"Ye maunna lippen ower muckle to a' this," said he of the Peatstacknowe; "else ye may play like Marion's Jock, when he gaed away to douk in Commonside loch. 'It is a hard matter,' says Jock to himself, 'that a' the lave o' Commonside's men can swatter and swim in the loch like sae mony drakes but me. I am fain either to poutter about the side, or down I gang. I can neither sink nor swim; for when I try to get to the bottom to creep, there I stick like a woundit paddock, wagging my arms and my legs, and can neither get to the top nor the bottom. Just half way, there stick I. But I's be even hands wi' them an' mair, an' then I'll laugh at the leishest o' them; for I'll stand, and wade, and gang ower the waves afore them a', aye, and that wi' my head boonmost.' Jock, after this grand contrivance, coudna rest, but off he sets to Hawick, and gets four big blawn bladders; and the next day, when a' the lave went to bathe, Jock he went to bathe amang the rest; and he gangs slyly into a bush by himsel', and ties twa o' the bladders to every foot. 'Now,' thinks Jock, 'I'll let them see a trick.' Sae he slips into the loch, and wades into the deep; but the bladders they aye gart him hobble and bob up and down, till, faith, he loses the balance, and ower he coups. Nane o' them kend o' Jock's great plan, and they were a' like to burst their sides wi' laughing when they saw Jock diving. But when they saw he wasna like to come up again, they swattered away to the place, and there was Jock swimming wi' his head straight to the bottom, and his feet and the four bladders walking a minuay aboon. Now, let me tell ye, an ye lippen to the friar's warlockry, and his enchantments, and divinations, ye trust to as mony bladders fu' o' wind, and down gae a' your heads, and your heels uppermost. Na, na; nane maun try to cope wi' auld Michael." "I hae heard, indeed, that he coudna brook ony rivalry," said Charlie; "and I hae heard waur instances, and waur stories too, than that o' yours, laird. But let us draw slyly near to the twasome, and make lang lugs, to try if we can learn ony mair about that same beuk. If the friar hae ony power o' enchantment, it is my opinion the first glamour he'll thraw will be ower that bonny wench." "We ought to keep them asunder by force," said the poet; "it would be a shame and a disgrace to us, if we were to let the auld rogue seduce either her person or her morals." "Morals?" said Charlie; "I dinna ken about them, for I watna weel what they are; but as to seducing hersel', I think I could answer for auld Roger the friar. I see there's nae man can help liking a bonny lass; but the better a good man likes ane he'll be the mair sweer to do her ony skaith." "Aye; but then how can an enchanter be a good man?" said the poet. "That's the thing that puzzles me," said Charlie: "Let us hear what they are on about sae briskly now."