Perhaps the context was not illuminating, but at any rate the word 'reproduce' was not in David's vocabulary, and putting back his spectacles he told me his difficulty in deciphering the exact meaning of his fine-lady patron.

He called at the Free Kirk manse,--the meenister was no' at hame; then to the library,--it was closed; then to the Estaiblished manse,--the meenister was awa'.

At last he obtained a glance at the schoolmaster's dictionary, and turning to 'reproduce' found that it meant 'nought but mak' ower again';--and with an amused smile at the bedevilments of language he turned once more to his loom and I to my canvas.
Notwithstanding his unfamiliarity with 'langnebbit' words, David has absorbed a deal of wisdom in his quiet life; though so far as I can see, his only books have been the green tree outside his window, a glimpse of the distant ocean, and the toil of his hands.
But I sometimes question if as many scholars are not made as marred in this wise, for--to the seeing eye--the waving leaf and the far sea, the daily task, one's own heart-beats, and one's neighbour's,--these teach us in good time to interpret Nature's secrets, and man's, and God's as well..