further. One evening, however, when Betty was out, and he had got
hold of her candle, and gone up to keep Shargar company for a few
minutes, a sudden impulse seized him to have a peep into all the
closets. One of them he knew a little about, as containing, amongst
other things, his father's coat with the gilt buttons, and his
great-grandfather's kilt, as well as other garments useful to
Shargar: now he would see what was in the rest. He did not find
anything very interesting, however, till he arrived at the last.
Out of it he drew a long queer-shaped box into the light of Betty's
dip.

'Luik here, Shargar!' he said under his breath, for they never dared
to speak aloud in these precincts--'luik here! What can there be in
this box? Is't a bairnie's coffin, duv ye think? Luik at it.'

In this case Shargar, having roamed the country a good deal more
than Robert, and having been present at some merry-makings with his
mother, of which there were comparatively few in that country-side,
was better informed than his friend.

'Eh! Bob, duvna ye ken what that is? I thocht ye kent a' thing.
That's a fiddle.'

'That's buff an' styte (stuff and nonsense), Shargar. Do ye think I
dinna ken a fiddle whan I see ane, wi' its guts ootside o' 'ts wame,
an' the thoomacks to screw them up wi' an' gar't skirl?'

'Buff an' styte yersel'!' cried Shargar, in indignation, from the
bed. 'Gie's a haud o' 't.'