But as they went on, the stones
were so heavy, and bumped the Laird's side so hard, that he threw away
a second, dropping it as gently as he could. But the sound of its
fall did not escape the ears of the Man of Peace, who cried as before:
"What's yon?"
"It's jest a nasty hoast[5] that I have," said the Laird.
[Footnote 5: "Hoast" = cough.]
"Man, you're daft," said the Dwarf, contemptuously; "that's what ails
ye."
The Laird now resolved to be prudent, but the inconvenience of his
burden was so great that after a while he resolved to risk the
displeasure of the Man of Peace once more, and gently slipped a third
stone to the ground.
"Third time's lucky," he thought. But the proverb failed him, for the
Dwarf turned as before, shouting: "What's yon?"
"It'll be my new brogues[6] that ye hear bumpin' Upon the muckle
stanes," said the Laird.
[Footnote 6: "Brogues" = shoes.]
"Ye're fou, Brockburn, I tellt ye so. Ye're fou!" growled the Man of
Peace, angrily, and the Laird dared not drop any more of the Dwarfs
gifts. After a while his companion's good-humour seemed to return, and
he became talkative and generous.
"I mind your great-grandfather weel, Brockburn. He was a hamely man, I
found his sheep for him one nicht on this verra hill-side. Mair by
token, ye'll find your beasties at hame, and the men and the dogs
forebye."
The Laird thanked him heartily, and after a while the Dwarf became
more liberal-spirited still.
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