FROM EDINBURGH TO THE ANTARCTIC 
kept as true to her as the needle to the Pole, and when 
he came into port went straight " up the toon," with heart 
pumping under his jacket, and his pockets full of bank- 
notes, refusing even to have a " sma yin " with his drouthie 
cronies on Dock Street. 
'There was no one to let him in when he knocked at 
his door on the fifth flat in High Street, but he was not 
surprised. Liz would be working out-bye, he thought, for 
a sailor's half-pay is none too much for the wife at home. 
So, to put in the time and slacken rather a dry throat, he 
went down the long stair again and turned into the Tay bar 
— a great sailors' howf in Dundee — when who should he 
see but his Liz clinking glasses with another sailor man.' 
'"Weel, Liz," he said, " I Ve come hame." The East 
Scotch are an undemonstrative people. 
An dod, man," she said, "but it's fell glad I am to 
see ye, laddie. Wullie, this is my guidman ; and Sandy, 
this is Wullie Lindsay, ma cousin, ye ken, just ca frae th' 
Wast Ice \vi' a full ship." 
' So Sandy was introduced to Wullie, and ordered a gill 
of the special, to celebrate his home-coming, and Liz went 
"over the way to fettle up the house a wee," taking with 
her Sandy's two years' earnings, for, as every one knows, a 
sailor fresh from the sea is not to be trusted with money. 
. . . Old Sandy was treading on air when he left cousin 
Lindsay a little later, and went over the way to see his 
wife ; but his throat grew dry again when he found his 
door still shut. Then he went back to the Tay bar and 
heard Liz had " been, and gaed awa wi' Meester Lindsay." 
Some other local gossip he heard too, which gave him a 
