I aye had guid houps o' ye, Alec, my man.

But there may be sic a thing as loupin' into the sea o' life oot o' the ark o' salvation; an' gin ye loup in whan he doesna call ye, or gin ye getna a grip o' his han', whan he does, ye're sure to droon, as sure's ane o' the swine that ran heedlong in and perished i' the water." Alec had only a dim sense of his meaning, but he had faith that it was good, and so listened in respectful silence.

Surely enough of sacred as well as lovely sound had been uttered over the boat to make her faithful and fortunate! The hour arrived at length when _The Bonnie Annie_ was to be launched.
It was one of a bright Saturday afternoon, in the month of May, full of a kind of tearful light, which seemed to say: "Here I am, but I go to-morrow!" Yet though there might be plenty of cold weather to come, though the hail might; fall in cart-loads, and the snow might lie thick for a day or two, there would be no more frozen waters, and the boughs would be bare and desolate no more.

A few late primroses were peeping from the hollows damp with moss and shadow along the banks, and the trees by the stream were in small young leaf.

There was a light wind full of memories of past summers and promises for the new one at hand, one of those gentle winds that blow the eyes of the flowers open, that the earth may look at the heaven.