464 A WIDOW'S STORY. [CHAP. x. 



tidyin' up the hoose afore gangin' till my bed, I heard the 

 men in the boats cryin' till arie anither, as they were workin' 

 oot intae the firth. Tae bed I gaed, and lookin' at the low o' 

 the fire, as it keepit flichterin' up and deein' aw a', sune set me 

 soond asleep. What daftlike things folks think, see, and dae 

 in their sleep. I dreamt that nicht that I was walkin' alang 

 the sands till meet my guidman, wha had landed his boat at 

 Morrison's Haven. The sun was shinin' beautifu', and the 

 waves were comin' tumlin' up the sand, sparklin' and lauchin' 

 in the sunlicht, dancin' as if they never did ony ill. I saw 

 my guidman at the distance, and I put my best fit forrit till 

 meet him. I was as near him as tae see his face distinckly, 

 and was aboot tae cry oot, * Archibald, what sort o' fishin' hae 

 ye had?' when a' on a suddint a great nmckle hand cam' doon 

 frae the sky, and puttin' its finger and thoom roond my guid- 

 man, lifted him clean oot o' my sicht jist in a meenit. The 

 fricht o' the dream waukened me, and I turned on my side 

 and lookit at whaur the fire ought tae be, but it was a' black- 

 ness. The hoose was shakin' as if the great muckle hand had 

 gruppit it by the gavel, and was shakin' it like a wunnelstraw. 

 Hech, sir, ye leeve up in a toon o' lands, and dinna ken what 

 a storm is. Aiblins ye get up in the mornin' and see a tree or 

 twa lyin' across the road, and a lum tummilt ower the rufe, and 

 a kittlin' or twa smoort aneath an auld barrel ; but bless ye, 

 sir, that's no a storm sic as we folk on the seaside ken o'. 

 Na, na ! The sky sky ! there's nae sky, a' is as black as 

 black can be ; ye may put your hand oot and fill your nieve 

 wi' the darkness, exceppin' the times when the lichtnin' flashes 

 doon like a twisted threid o' purple gowd ; and then ye can 

 see the waves lookin' ower ane anither's heads, and gnashin' 

 their teeth, as ye micht think, and cryin' oot in their anger for 

 puir folk's lives. Siccan a nicht it was when I waukened. 

 My guidmau had been oot in mony a storm afore, sae I com- 

 forted mysel' wi' thinkin' that he would gey and likely mak 



