with the general opinion of the district that the only harm in it was
the penalty due "'gin ye get foond oot by the gauger." He assured me
that in his young days the practice was widespread. This had brought
us to Davie Forbes and his persistence in escaping government dues, and
led on to the narrative which I here set down in intelligible English.

Davie was a fine, hearty specimen of a Scottish crofter, whose
appearance did not tally with his acknowledged seventy-nine years; for
his handsome, ruddy face, framed by white whiskers, and crowned with
abundant, curly white locks, showed scarcely a wrinkle. He was
stalwart and straight, too, as many a man twenty years his junior would
dearly love to be.

Davie's wife had been dead many years at the date of this story; his
only daughter, Maggie Jean, was housekeeper for him and her two
unmarried brothers, Jock and Peter. Like many of his fellows who might
have to support a widowed mother or other helpless relatives, he had
not married until rather late in life. Consequently, Maggie Jean, the
youngest of the family, was a strapping lass of thirty, and Jock, the
eldest, a "lad" of thirty-six; for an unmarried man in our
neighborhood, be it known, is a lad till he becomes decrepit!

The family residence of the Forbes stood about half-way up Ben
Sgurrach, the highest hill in the district, and the house was at least
1,000 feet above the sea. It was sheltered from the east wind by a
clump of scarecrow-looking pine trees, and a spur of barren rock rose
behind it on the north. I could imagine those trees, though I have
never seen them; we have some such in our little wood behind the
presbytery. Gaunt-looking figures they are indeed! Some have been
twisted into uncouth shapes by adverse winds; others stand draped in