hands-Heaven knows why! "Vous êtes contents?" they oried.

"We are more than content," we answered.

When we returned to the harbour after lunch the MarieMarthe was already gone out of port, into the easterly gale. That night, and every night till the end of the herring season, fair and foul, the immense labour we had witnessed was to be done all over again. On the quay Jim made his great discovery. He stopped dead, like a man suddenly inspired. "Lookse here!" he shouted. "Lookse here! They gert steam-drifters, wi' their three hunderd thousand to a haul,

MARY ANN was a queer character; the widow, her mother, was another queer character; and as for her three brothers, Sandy, Rory, and Neil, they were no characters at all. They lived in a small island off the coast of Argyleshire, and as there was no other family so worthless in the the whole length and breadth of it, and as this story is moreover no fiction, it would be a pity to mention it by name. For the purposes of convenience, however, we might call it Saasa.

The old woman was fond of whisky, and the three brothers of Mary Ann were more than fond of it. As for Mary Ann, she was used to the sight of it, and to the quarrels that arose from the free use of it, and she thought little either of the one or the other. She had herself the temper of a fiend. From this it may be seen that the home of Mary Ann neither very peaceable nor very pleasant.

was

Though this was so, it was a fact that the girl was much sought after. She was very pretty in a gipsy-like way, her hair was black and crisp and curly; her black eyes sparkled with mischief or with anger; she had a clear dark skin, red lips, and small white teeth. She was altogether small and trim, and her movements were instinct with a kind of restless vitality. She

had also a high opinion of herself, and whenever she could get any money together she spent it in adorning her person. The family was looked down upon in Saasa, but Mary Ann treated both the girls and the lads of the island as though they were the dirt beneath her feet. feet. For the rest, she had a sharp and venomous tongue, was as quick and active as a wild thing from the woods, and kept her house as clean as a new pin.

Despite her faults and her family, then, Mary Ann had no lack of admirers, and here it was that her extraordinary misfortunes began. When she was eighteen she became engaged to a good-looking young fisherman; but just as every one was wondering at at his choice, he was drowned at sea in a storm. The girl was very sad, but in less than a year she promised to marry a crofter lad who had been half crazy about her for some time. Just before the time arranged for the wedding, however, he hurt himself when working at a house, became an invalid, and before long had to take to his bed altogether. It appeared he had injured his spine.

Mary Ann did not seem as concerned about this second misfortune as might have been expected. She gave sharp answers to anyone who spoke to her about the matter, went flaunting about in the clothes

she had made for the wedding, and though at first she used to go to see the poor young lad who had been hurt, and was kind enough to him, it was soon rumoured that she was keeping company with some one else. He was a mason, and very comfortably off, and his parents and friends were greatly against his having anything to do with Mary Ann. They said among other things that there was clearly a misfortune upon those who took up with her. The mason would not listen, however; he was wild about the girl, and gave her some of his savings, so that she might make preparations for their marriage. Their banns were put up on the board, the invitations to the wedding sent out, and some of the cooking done for the festivity, when the bridegroom was stricken down suddenly with typhoid fever, which had broken out a week or two before on the island. As soon as the news of his illness went about, people said there was no hope for him. It was clear that "something" must befall the lovers of Mary Ann. In three weeks the young mason was dead.

From this time forward the young men of Saasa were as much afraid of Mary Ann as if she had the plague. Her handsome looks, her saucy ways, the sparkle of her black eyes, made them now only avoid her. Sandy, Rory, and Neil seemed to feel the disgrace on the house, and were only sober when they had no money, and

therefore could not help it. The old mother tippled more than ever. Mary Ann's tongue made life bitter for them all. The old woman told the neighbours that her girl was never done weeping for him that was dead and gone, but the neighbours saw little signs of grief about her. She her head as high 88 and decorated herself with wedding-garments.

held

ever,

After a couple of years the girl left Saasa and went to service in Glasgow. People had been saying to her that she would never get a husband, and she took a dislike to the island. Soon she wrote home that she was getting £24 of wages in the year, and was highly thought of in the town. The Saasa people laughed when they heard this. A year passed, and more news came. Mary Ann wrote that she was going to be married. He was in a very good position, and had a shop of his own. The marriage would take place in the island soon after the term, and they must be making preparations, as she would only have a week or ten days at home before it came off.

The brothers did not know what to do when they heard this. They had prepared for Mary Ann's marriages before, and that year the fishing was a failure and they were poor. The old mother was now beginning to get rather "dottled," and was in a great state about it.

As for the neighbours, they would do nothing but laugh at the news. They did not now

believe that Mary Ann would ever be married.

Time went past, and Mary Ann came home. She was handsomer than ever, her dress was most fashionable, and her air, as before, somewhat grand. She had only been a year away, but she had forgotten the Gaelic language altogether, and could now only speak English. She was very angry to find that no preparations had been made for the wedding, and at once set to work to make them herself,-cleaning the long, low, thatched house like a very fury; darting up and down the hill to and from the well for water, the crisp black curls of her hair blown by the breeze over her determined little face and into the sparkle of her black eyes. She went herself round the island giving invitations to the wedding, and so pretty did she look and so agreeable did she make herself that she got no refusals. People were indeed filled with curiosity. "If there is a wedding, we'll be there," was what they thought and what they said among themselves.

The young woman had great accounts of the bridegroom. He was a most respectable lad, it seemed, and a great teetotaller. He had a fine business, and an assistant in the shop; he went to church "regular" on Sundays, and wore a clean collar every day. He thought nothing of the expense. Some of the Saasa lads were quite bashful at the thought of such high society, and although they were not altogether sure of the wed

ding, some of them bought new collars out of the shop.

Meantime Mary Ann went on with her preparations. There was to be a great dinner. Fowls were to be boiled by the dozen, and the bride made their feathers fly like chaff on a windy day as she plucked them at the end of the house. There were to be innumerable puddings indigenous to Glasgow and suchlike homes of the aristocracy; there was, moreover, a generous jar of whisky to be provided somehow by Sandy, Rory, and Neil. Despite all that had come and gone, the neighbours began to take the wedding seriously.

At last the day arrived, and with the morning of it came the bridegroom in the steamer. Without doubt, notwithstanding the records of Mary Ann's ill-luck, despite the croakings of prophets and prophetesses, the hour and the man had both arrived. There were a number of people on the shore when the boat landed from the steamer, there were a number of people at the doors of the houses by which the bridegroom passed, there were others at the windows, and not a few of the younger sort looked out from behind peat-stacks or over the tops of rocks. Every one was interested and surprised, for the new arrival was hardly less to all appearance than Mary Ann had painted him. He was a most eminently respectablelooking young man. He wore a "stylish suit of checked tweed, a flower in his buttonhole, a shining white collar,

"Och, the Object!" said one old crone who had hobbled to her door to have a look at him. "He's too good for Mary Ann!"

The ceremony was fixed for three o'clock, and about two the guests began to arrive, and the "best room "9 of the queer,

crazy old house was soon packed to the door. There was just room left for the minister, the young couple, and the Bible. In the kitchen end the dinner was spread out. Pots bubbled on the fire, and a savoury smell of cooking pervaded the house and escaped outside, where a crowd of little boys hovered about, hoping for the sweets it was the custom in the island for the bridegroom to distribute before the ceremony. They began to peep in at the windows. "Oh, the dinner," said the first, who caught a glimpse of the spread in the kitchen. The mouths of every one of them watered when they saw it. They were discontented to think that they were too young to have an invitation.

By-and-by the minister arrived. He did not see any boys, but from behind the peat-stack and other places they saw him. "And we got nothing from Mary Ann's man," said they, darkly," not so much

as

They looked in again through the kitchen windows. The room was long and narrow. Above were sooty rafters, underneath was an earthen floor; but the stones of the hearth were white with pipeclay, and the place had a glowing, cheery look to Highland boys. All the length of the room tables were set end to end, covered with snowy tablecloths and laden with the feast. "Scones, oat-cake, loaf-bread, butter, crowdie, cheese, and cold hens," one of the boys told off the list enviously.

"It's not in one day they'll eat all the hens that are there," he commented.

They were unprincipled boys, and they began to consider whether they might not be able to lay hands on some of the dainties and have a feast of their own out on the hillside, and from this idea a queer situation arose.

Mary Ann was very anxious

to make the best of things before the stranger bridegroom. She had warned the old woman to keep from the whisky, and had besought Sandy, Rory, and Neil to be sparing in the use of it. "He is a great teetotaller,' said she. "He is not thinking it respectable to be tasting at all." It was agreed that though spirits were to flow freely, the family was to show becoming caution towards them.

Everything went well to begin with. The manners of the company, and particularly