"Weel, ye may pey for 't gien ye like," she rejoined.

"But I dinna like," replied Donal.

"Weel, ye're a some queer customer!" she remarked.

"I thank ye, but I'm nae customer, 'cep' for a drink o' watter," he
persisted, looking in her face with a smile; "an' watter has aye
been grâtis sin' the days o' Adam--'cep' maybe i' toons i' the het
pairts o' the warl'."

The woman turned into the cottage, and came out again presently with
a delft basin, holding about a pint, full of milk, yellow and rich.

"There!" she said; "drink an' be thankfu'."

"I'll be thankfu' ohn drunken," said Donal. "I thank ye wi' a' my
heart. But I canna bide to tak for naething what I can pey for, an'
I dinna like to lay oot my siller upon a luxury I can weel eneuch du
wantin', for I haena muckle. I wadna be shabby nor yet greedy."

"Drink for the love o' God," said the woman.

Donal took the bowl from her hand, and drank till all was gone.

"Wull ye hae a drap mair?" she asked.

"Na, no a drap," answered Donal. "I'll gang i' the stren'th o' that
ye hae gi'en me--maybe no jist forty days, gudewife, but mair nor
forty minutes, an' that's a gude pairt o' a day. I thank ye