He's a kin' o' librarian at yer ain college i' the noo, Mr Forbes.

The auld man's deid, and Mr Cupples is jist doin' the wark.

They winna gie him the place--'cause he has an ill name for drink--but they'll get as muckle wark oot o' him as gin they did, and for half the siller.

The body hauds at onythiug weel eneuch a' day, but the minute he comes hame, oot comes the tappit hen, and he jist sits doon and drinks till he turns the warl upo' the tap o' 'm." The next day, about noon, Alec went into the library, where he found Mr Cupples busy re-arranging the books and the catalogue, both of which had been neglected for years.

This was the first of many visits to the library, or rather to the librarian.
There was a certain mazy sobriety of demeanour about Mr Cupples all day long, as if in the presence of such serious things as books he was bound to be upon his good behaviour, and confine his dissipation to taking snuff in prodigious quantities.