The Tub and the Portent [pp. 251-258]

THE TUB AND THE PORTENT.
he invested the object of it with a kind of glory and
attraction that incited him to earnest endeavor in stead of awakening slothful feelings. Given a wor thy object and his spontaneous appreciation of it,
and he might safely be trusted to prosecute it with
energy and success. On the evening in question he
conducted his friend to this retreat, in order to ex change confidences. After scrambling to the "look out," Quentin, who was bursting to unbosom himself
as much as if overwhelmed with the cares of a na tion, broke out with-" Alec!"
AZec. "Weel, laddie?"
Quentin. "D'ye ken'at I'm forbidden the boa tie?"
AZec. "Ay, I ken. She'll win roun'."
Quentin. "Win roun'! What mean ye?"
Alec. "The boatie maun hae a rest. She's ower dune; your daddie, honest man, is feared lest she
come tae grief afore ye're fit to nawvigate her across
the Atlauntic, and sae he maun lay her up for re pairs. I heerd him speer faither anent her."
Quentin. "What said he?"
Alec. "He said she cost him five pun' sterlin' ten
year ago, but that noo-"
Quentin. "Ay, ay, I ken. He'd as lief sell her
fastenin's as burn the timmer o' her; but ye needna
lauch at me, callant; ye're ower wise to live lang, I
reckon."
Alec. "I'm no lauchin'; faither tell't me'at ye
suld burn a' thay buiks, for'at they're like roarin'
lions gaein' aboot seekin' whom they may devoor;
'at they're the breath of the bottomless pit; and,
gin ye gang on stickin' till them, ye'll be like a
rollin' stane'at gaithers nae moss, unstable in a' thy
ways."
Quentin. "Ay, ay, ye come o' a worthy fai ther! Man, what a fine minister ye'd mak'! ye'd gar
the clachan ring on a saicrament Thursday; belike
ye'll wear the bands afore your mother, noo. Harken till me-but maybe ye're grown sae douce, ye
wadna grant a puir, feekless body like me a favor.
Ye ken your mother's big wash-tub?"
Alec. " Oo, ay; what's comin' noo, I wunner?"
(sotto voce).
Quentin. "I had a gran' sail in her yestreen;
she swung roun' a wee, but she only wants guidin'
to mak' her a bonny ship. To-morrow my faither
will be awa' veesitin', and I intend doing my exerceese the nicht, and settin' sail the morn, and gin
ye wad like to come and shove her off, and tak' your
turn, I'd be muckle beholden till ye."
Alec. "The Lord preserve us, laddie! Ye wadna
dae sic a glaicket thing?"
Quentin. "Ay, wull I, though. Will ye stead
me?"
Alec. "Na, na, laddie. I wadna be your friend
to dae sic an evil thing. Supposin' ye got droont,
folks wud ca' me murderer; we're gettin' auld noo,
and suld hae mair discreetion."
Quentin. "Ay, ye're getting auld, and pawky,
too" (with spirit). "Ye're a runnin' commentary
on the Scriptures-your heid's fu' o' holy lere."
"Quentin, my dear chiel," sorrowfully responded
Alec, "whiles a man must e'en withstand his best
freen' and hairt's dear brither whan he's gaein' a
wrang gait."
"Oo, ay, there ye're at your homilies again,"
quoth crusty Quentin, "but let's win' doon."
On regaining terra firma, Quentin, seized with
sudden compunction for his unkind language to his
oldest playmate, grasped his hand and said: "Ye'll
forgie me, Alec? I didna mean onything to hurt
ye; ye'll no tell?"
"No," incautiously replied Alec, glad at even
this show of concession on his friend's part.
"Then I'll shove her off mysel'; guid-day," was
the parting salutation of Quentin; and, having in veigled his scrupulous friend into giving this promise
of secrecy, he made his way to the manse, while
Alec remained behind, biting his lips with vexation
at having suffered himself to be betrayed into such
a dangerous promise. "I'll no tell, but I'll hae to
watch the dear laddie mrysel'," he thought, and with
this reflection the honest lad went home, little dream ing of what was to happen on the morrow.
And it was not long before Quentin had grave
reason to feel the force of his friend's sober remarks,
for, years afterward, when he himself had learned to
regulate his actions by Alec's honest standard, he
was often heard to say, "Thus would Alec have
done, and he was always right," and, when perplexed
and baffled by the myriad complications of little
duties, he would, before deciding on a final course,
ask himself the question, "What would Alec have
done in such a case?" Ah, how few there are whose
lives and principles we can thus hold out before us as
a glass, in which we can see the wrinkles and blemishes of our own souls, the incrustations of petty care
and avarice, the surging of mean ambitions, the absorbing devotion to self! and alas! when we are
blessed with such a one-God's best gift-how seldom we value him until he is lost to us, and his goodness is as a tale that is told!
On the morning of the day on which the events
we are recording culminated in a disaster as heartrending as any that the sober annals of the little
parish can produce, matters stood as follows at the
manse and "smiddy:" The minister was going his
weary miles of parochial visiting, wlhich he always
accomplished on foot; his wife was superintending
and assisting in ironing operations in the laundry;
Pryse was laboriously digging round the gooseberrybushes in the manse-garden; the smith was hammering away on his anvil; Alec was. perched in the
" lookout" in the larch-tree, from which, unperceived,
he could survey the whole surface of the lake, except
that part of it which lay behind the manse, and on
which the boat-the bone of contention —rode at
anchor; and Quentin, as yet, did not put in an appearance.
I ought to have stated that that part of the loch
which adjoined the left of the peninsula was much
smaller than that to the right, and, being removed
from the purifying effects of the mountain rivulet, it
was stagnant, deep, with soft, sticky bottom, producing abundance of eels, pike, tadpoles, and leeches.
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