A quantity of rain having fallen and filled all the pools, George thought he would close with an offer that had been made him and swap one hundred and fifty sheep for cows and bullocks.  He mentioned this intention to McLaughlan one Sunday evening.  McLaughlan warmly approved his intention.  George then went on to name the customer who was disposed to make the exchange in question.  At this the worthy McLaughlan showed some little uneasiness and told George he might do better than deal with that person.

George said he should be glad to do better, but did not see how.

“Humph!” said McLaughlan, and fidgeted.

McLaughlan then invited George to a glass of grog, and while they were sipping he gave an order to his man.

McLaughlan inquired when the proposed negotiation was likely to take place.  “To-morrow morning,” said George.  “He asked me to go over about it this afternoon, but I remembered the lesson you gave me about making bargains on this day, and I said ‘To-morrow, farmer.’”

“Y’re a guid lad,” said the Scot demurely; “y’re just as decent a body as ever I forgathered wi’—­and I’m thinking it’s a sin to let ye gang twa miles for mairchandeeze whan ye can hae it a hantle cheaper at your ain door.”

“Can I?  I don’t know what you mean.”

“Ye dinna ken what I mean?  Maybe no.”

Mr. McLaughlan fell into thought a while, and the grog being finished he proposed a stroll.  He took George out into the yard, and there the first thing they saw was a score and a half of bullocks that had just been driven into a circle and were maintained there by two men and two dogs.

George’s eye brightened at the sight and his host watched it.  “Aweel,” said he, “has Tamson a bonnier lot than yon to gie ye?”

“I don’t know,” said George dryly.  “I have not seen his.”

“But I hae—­and he hasna a lot to even wi’ them.”

“I shall know to-morrow,” said George.  But he eyed McLaughlan’s cattle with an expression there was no mistaking.

“Aweel,” said the worthy Scot, “ye’re a neebor and a decent lad ye are, sae I’ll just speer ye ane question.  Noo, mon,” continued he in a most mellifluous tone and pausing at every word, “gien it were Monday—­as it is the Sabba day—­hoo mony sheep wud ye gie for yon bonnie beasties?”

George, finding his friend in this mind, pretended to hang back and to consider himself bound to treat with Thomson first.  The result of all which was that McLaughlan came over to him at daybreak and George made a very profitable exchange with him.

At the end of six months more George found himself twice as rich in substance as at first starting; but instead of one hundred pounds cash he had but eighty.  Still if sold up he would have fetched five hundred pounds.  But more than a year was gone since he began on his own account.  “Well,” said George, “I must be patient and still keep doubling on, and if I do as well next year as last I shall be worth eight hundred pounds.”