tiny bare room in the roof--not supperless, indeed, motherly Mrs.
Moore had seen to that. And there he would lie awake and listen
with a fierce contempt as his father, hours later, lurched into the
kitchen below, lilting liquorishly:

"We are na Lou, we're nae that Lou,
But just a drappie in our e'e;
The cock may craw, the day may daw',
And ay we'll taste the barley bree!"

And in the morning the boy would slip quietly out of the house
while his father still slept; only Red Wull would thrust out his
savage head as the lad passed, and snarl hungrily.

Sometimes father and son would go thus for weeks without sight
of one another. And that was David's aim--to escape attention. It
was only his cunning at this game of evasion that saved him a
thrashing.

The little man seemed devoid of all natural affection for his son.
He lavished the whole fondness of which his small nature
appeared capable on the Tailless Tyke, for so the Dales-men called
Red Wull. And the dog he treated with a careful tenderness that
made David smile bitterly.

The little man and his dog were as alike morally as physically they
were contrasted. Each owed a grudge against the world and was
determined to pay it. Each was an Ishmael among his kind.

You saw them thus, standing apart, leper-like, in the turmoil of