Angus McRae's smile, as he drove away, was like the sun breaking out over Lake Algonquin, and the lawyer felt as if their positions were reversed, and he had just put a mortgage on his farm and Angus were trying to comfort him. He stood for a moment on the sidewalk, his bright eyes grown misty, and watched the pair drive down the hill. Then he looked across the street and saw Doctor Archibald Blair climbing into his mud-splashed buggy, satchel in hand. Lawyer Ed walked across to him, his shining boots sinking in the soft mud. By descent Lawyer Ed was partly Scotch, by nature he was entirely Irish. He possessed a glib tongue of the latter order and his habit was to address every one he met, be he Indian, Highland Scot, or French Canadian, in the dialect which the person was supposed to favour. So he roared out in his magnificent baritone, as he picked his way among the puddles: "Hoot! Losh! Is yon yersel', Aerchie mon?" Doctor Blair glared down at him from under lowering brows. "Dear me, Ed, you're an object of pity, when you try to get that clumsy tongue of yours, hampered as it is by a brogue from Cork, around the most musical sounds of the most musical language under heaven. Give it up, man! Give it up!" "Haud yer whisht! Or whisht yer blethers!--whichever way that outlandish, heathenish gibberish your forebears jabbered, would have it. You see, Archie, one great advantage of being Irish--and it's not your fault that you're not, man, I don't blame you--one great advantage is that you can speak all languages with equal ease. Now a Scotchman's tongue is like his sense of humour and his brains--a bit hard to wiggle." "_'Beware a tongue that's smoothly hung, A heart that warmly seems to feel'_"---- quoted Doctor Blair, who was always ready with his Burns. He shoved his black satchel under the seat, and hauled the muddy lap-robe over his knees. "Do you want anything in the line of common sense, or did you just come over here to blather?" "I came to see what you thought of Angus. Is he very sick?" "Angus McRae? Yes he is, Ed, I'm sorry to say. I felt I ought to tell him to quit work altogether, but he can't afford it." "Is it anything dangerous?" "Well, if anything should happen--a shock or strain of any kind on his heart--he'd be laid up--maybe put out of business altogether." "And to-day he put a mortgage on his place, to help pay the debts of Peter McDuff and a dozen other old leeches that live on him." The two friends looked at each other and nodded silently. "He's a wonderful man, that Angus McRae," said Dr. Blair. "He's the finest man living!" cried Lawyer Ed, always enthusiastic. "I owe that man more than I can ever pay--not money, something more valuable--nearly everything I have that's worth while." His friend nodded. There were few men in Algonquin who were not indebted to Angus McRae for something of value. "Angus is rich in that sort of wealth," said Archie Blair.