Page:Martha Spreull by Zachary Fleming.pdf/108

96 the boat, puts his hooks into the water, and efter lettin’ oot a lang piece o’ the line, he settled doon and lookit into the air sae eager-like that Mrs. Warnock nudged me wi her elbow and smiled, as much as to say, “ Just look at the earnest face o’ that callarit.'’

Weel, we sailed alang for a while lookin’ at the sea and the muckle hills, and the white hooses on the beach, when the boat gaed a jerk, and Willie Warstle jumpit to his feet.

“Sit doon,” says I, “or ye’ll coup the boat.” Mrs. Warnock laid hold o’ my airm, but the laddie never heeded us—he wis ower intent on pu’in’ in his line. He had a fish on as sure as life, for it jumpit divers times oot o’ the watter, and shook its head, as if it didna want into the boat.

Willie stuck by his prize, hooever, and in a few seconds brocht in as bonny a haddie as ye could see in ony shop window in Glasgow. I couldna help thinkin’ on the contrivance of the callant, as he sat there wi’ his sober face at the hin’-en’ o’ the vessel, bringing in fish efter fish till we had as mony as wud serve Mrs. Warnock and mysel’ for twa days; sae we were thinkin’ to turn, when the line plays ' whish ’ through the laddie’s fingers again, and the four-cornered reel danced i’ the bottom o’ the boat, but wis cleverly grippet just as it wis gaun ower the side.

“ Hold on, and I ’ll back-water,” cried the callant at the oars; “ ye hae got a richt ane this time.”

This wis a time o’ great peril, but I had the presence o’ min’ to lay hold o’ the bit laddie's legs, for he wis hauf-wye ower the hin’-en’ o’ the boat, and the thing wis like to tak’ him awa’ a’thegither. Mrs. Warnock began to greet, and begged he wud cut the string; but the callant, though nae match for the fish in strength, had his wits aboot him, and gied the line twa turns roon’ a pin on the side o’ the boat, and held on. I could see