water, his feet being held close to the parapet by the muscular arms of
his eldest brother, Tammas Cassilis, commonly known as the Whaup.

"Wattie," repeated the Whaup, "say a sweer, or into the burn ye'll gang
as sure as daith!" and he dipped Wattie a few inches, so that the
ripples touched his head. Wattie set up a fearful howl.

"Now, will ye say it?"

"_Deevil!_" cried Wattie. "Let me up; I hae said a sweer!"

The other brothers raised a demoniac shout of triumph over his apostacy.

"Ye maun say a worse sweer, Wattie. Deevil is no bad enough."

"I'll droon first!" whimpered Wattie, "and then ye'll get your paiks,
I'm thinking."

Down went Wattie's head into the burn again, and this time he was raised
with his mouth sputtering out the contents it had received.

"I'll say what ye like! _D--n;_ is that bad enough?"

With another unholy shout of derision Wattie was raised and set on the
bridge.

"Noo," said the Whaup, standing over him, "let me tell you this, my man.
The next time ye gang to my faither, and tell a story about any one o'
us, or the next time you say a word against the French lassie, as ye ca'
her, do ye ken what I'll do? I'll take ye back to my faither by the lug,