"Night is the mither o' thoughts." He relapsed into silence again. After some moments he took his pipe out and remarked to the stove: "Oaks fall when reeds stand." "Fergus," I said, "you're cryptic to-night. What do you consider yourself, an oak or a reed?" "Well, David, I'm the oak that falls, while the reed stands." I tried to draw him out still further on this interesting point, but not another explanatory word would he say. It was the beginning, however, of a new understanding of Fergus. A little later, that very evening, Anthy and her uncle came in for a moment on their way home from some call or entertainment, and not a minute behind them, Nort. I saw Fergus's eyes dwell a moment on Anthy and then return to his moody observation of the fire. And Anthy was well worth a second glance that evening. The sharp winter wind had touched her cheeks with an unaccustomed radiance, and had blown her hair, where the scarf did not quite protect it, wavily about her temples. She was in great spirits. "Fergus," she cried out, "what do you mean sitting here all humped up over the fire on a wonderful night like this!" Here Nort broke in: "Fergus is thinking about what he will put into his issue of the _Star_." "They're all my issues, so far's I can see," growled Fergus. "But now, Fergus," persisted Nort, "if you were editing a column in the newspaper what would you put in it?" Fergus began to liven up a little. "Tell us, Fergus," said Anthy. Fergus took his pipe out of his mouth and rubbed the bowl of it along his cheek, screwing up his face as though he were thinking hard. We all watched him. No one could ever tell quite where Fergus would break out. "What is most interesting to you?" prompted Nort. "That's easy," said Fergus, and turning in his chair he reached across to the shelf and produced his battered volume of "Tom Sawyer." This he opened gravely and began to read the passage in which Tom beguiles the other boys in the village to do his white-washing for him: "Tom appeared on the sidewalk with a bucket of whitewash and a long-handled brush. He surveyed the fence, and all gladness left him and a deep melancholy settled down upon his spirit. Thirty yards of board fence nine feet high. Life seemed to him hollow and existence but a burden." Fergus read it with a deliciously humorous Scotch twist in the words, a twist impossible to represent in print. Occasionally he would pause and bark two or three times, his excuse for laughter. When he had reached the end of the passage, Nort said: "I've got it! This is the very thing: let's put it in the _Star_. Where's a pencil and paper? _Fergus MacGregor's Favourite Passage from 'Tom Sawyer.'_ Everybody in town knows that Fergus likes 'Tom Sawyer.'" "Humph!" said Fergus, but it was evident that he was not a little pleased. Do what he would, he could not help liking Nort. "I know something that represents Fergus still better," said Anthy.