It was upon a Friday night that the frost finally broke up.

A day of wintry rain followed, dreary and depressing.

But the two boys, Alec Forbes and Willie Macwha, had a refuge from the _ennui_ commonly attendant on such weather, in the prosecution of their boat-building.
Hence it came to pass that in the early evening of the following Saturday, they found themselves in close consultation in George Macwha's shop, upon a doubtful point involved in the resumption of their labour.

But they could not settle the matter without reference to the master of the mystery, George himself, and were, in the mean time, busy getting their tools in order--when he entered, in conversation with Thomas Crann the mason, who, his bodily labours being quite interrupted by the rain, had the more leisure apparently to bring his mental powers to bear upon the condition of his neighbours.
"It's a sod pity, George," he was saying as he entered, "that a man like you wadna, ance for a', tak thoucht a bit, and consider the en' o' a' thing that the sun shines upo'." "Hoo do ye ken, Thamas, that I dinna tak thoucht ?" "Will ye say 'at ye _div_ tak thoucht, George ?" "I'm a bit o' a Protestant, though I'm nae missionar; an' I'm no inclined to confess, Thamas--meanin' no ill-will to _you_ for a' that, ye ken," added George, in a conciliatory tone.
"Weel, weel.

I can only say that I hae seen no signs o' a savin' seriousness aboot ye, George.