Thus Alick mused, laughing a little to himself as he went over to borrow Mistress Fraser's cradle. He had an idea. "There'll be some amusement at ony rate," he said, "but I maunna be ower keen. Na, and I maun haud back an' make difficulties. And then the wife will tak' the ither side and be juist daft to get her ain way and keep them." Alick was well aware of the value of a certain amount of opposition, judiciously distributed. He arrived before long at the cottage of Mistress Fraser. It was set like his own in the midst of a garden. But instead of being bosomed in flowers, with beeskeps scattered about, the garden was wholly taken up with potatoes, cabbage, and curly greens. It was a strictly utilitarian garden. As soon as Muckle Alick hove in sight, turning up off the main road, a covey of children broke from the door of the house and ran tumultuously towards him. They tripped one another up. They pulled each other back by the hair, or caught those in front by the heels or the coat-tails. It was a clean-limbed, coltish lass of thirteen who gained the race and sprang first into the arms of Muckle Alick. Then two smaller boys gripped each a mighty leg, while a whole horde of smaller banditti swarmed up Alick's rearward works and took his broad back by storm. When he got to the potato garden he looked more like the show elephant his wife had called him than ever. For he was fairly loaded with children "all along the rigging," as Mistress Fraser said. She was a buxom, rosy-cheeked woman, gifted upon occasion with an astonishing plainness of speech. "Guidnicht to ye, Alick," she said, "thae bairns maks as free wi' ye as if they were a' your ain?" Alick disentangled the hands of one of the rearward harpies from his beard and mouth. Whereupon the offended rascal was not to be appeased. He slid down, caught the giant about the knee, and began to kick an outlying shin with all his might. "Ye should ken best whether they are or no," said Alick, "there's plenty o' them at ony gait!" "An' what wind has blawn ye awa' frae Sandyknowes this nicht? It takes naething less than an earthquake to shake ye awa' frae Mirren. Ye hae fair forgotten that there's ither folk in the warl." "I was wanting the lend o' your cradle, guidwife," said Alick, with affected shamefacedness, well aware of the astonishment he would occasion by the simple request. Mistress Fraser had been stooping over a basin in which she was mixing meal and other ingredients, to form the white puddings for which she was famous. She stood up suddenly erect, like a bow straightening itself. Then she looked sternly at Alick. "Ye are a nice cunning wratch to be an elder—you and Mirren Terregles baith—and at your time o' life. An' hoo is she?"