“Mistress Burns,” he remonstrated almost tearfully, “ye should teach your servants better manners. Molly Dunn is a——” but he never finished his sentence, for Molly, hurrying back with the hot water, ran into him and, whether by design or accident it was never known, spilled the hot contents of the pan over Tam’s shins, whereupon he gave what resembled a burlesque imitation of a Highland fling to the accompaniment of roars of pain and anger from himself and guffaws of laughter from Souter and Molly. Even Mrs. Burns and Gilbert could not resist a smile at the antics of the old tyke. “Toots, mon,” said Molly, not at all abashed at the mischief she had done, “ye’re no hurt; ye’ll get mair than that at hame, I’m tellin’ ye,” and she nodded her head sagely. “Molly, hold your tongue,” said Mistress Burns reprovingly, then she turned to Tam. “I hope ye’re nae burnt bad.” But Tam was very angry, and turning to Souter he cried wrathfully, “I’m gang hame, Souter Johnny. I’ll no stay here to be insulted; I’m gang hame.” And he started for the door. “Dinna mind Molly; she’s daft like,” replied Souter in a soothing voice. “Come and sit doon,” and he tried to pull him toward the fireplace, but Tam was not to be pacified. His dignity had been outraged. “Nay, nay, Souter, I thank ye!” he said firmly. “An’ ye, too, Mistress Burns, for your kind invitation to stay langer,” she looked at him quickly, then gave a little sniff, “but I ken when I’m insulted,” and disengaging himself from Souter’s restraining hand, he started for the door once more. “An’ where will ye be gang at this hour, Tam?” insinuated Souter slyly. “Ye ken your guidwife’s temper.” “I’m gang over to the Inn,” replied Tam defiantly, with his hand on the open door. “Will ye gang alang wi’ me, Souter? A wee droppie will cheer us both,” he continued persuasively. Souter looked anxiously at Gilbert’s stern, frowning face, then back to Tam. “I’d like to amazin’ weel, Tam,” he replied in a plaintive tone, “but ye see——” “Johnny has promised me he’ll keep sober till plantin’ is over,” interrupted Gilbert firmly; “after that he can do as he likes.” “Ye should both be ashamed o’ yoursel’s drinkin’ that vile whisky,” said Mrs. Burns angrily, and she clacked her lips in disgust. “It is your worst enemy, I’m tellin’ ye.” “Ye mind, Mistress Burns,” replied Souter, winking his left eye at Tam, “ye mind the Scriptures say, ‘Love your enemies.’ Weel, we’re just tryin’ to obey the Scriptures, eh, Tam?” “Aye, Souter,” answered Tam with drunken gravity, “I always obey the Scriptures.” “Here, mon, drink a cup of tea before ye gang awa’,” said Mrs. Burns, and she took him a brimming cup of the delicious beverage, thinking it might assuage his thirst for something stronger. Tam majestically waved it away.