J. J. Bell

“ I wudna like to be you," said Macgregor, dabbling his already bare feet in the water. "Weel, ye can be the man on the pier. Some o' the stanes is a wee thing shoogly, but ye'll jist ha'e to luk whaur ye pit yer feet, Chairlie."
Charlie, after a little hesitation, walked gingerly down the narrow passage of loose stones which terminated with a large flat one, where he found a fairly sure foothold.
"That's it!" cried Macgregor, wading out from shore till the water was within half-an-inch of his clothing. "Ye're jist like a pier-man." ”

“ THE small boy in the trim sailor suit, broad-brimmed straw hat with "H.M.S. Valiant" in gold letters on the dark-blue ribbon, spotless white collar with gold anchors at the corners, and fine shoes and stockings, stood helplessly on the sunlit shore, and with misty eyes gazed hopelessly at his toy yacht drifting out to sea.
"Whit wey dae ye no' wade in efter yer boat?" demanded Macgregor, who for half-an-hour had been envying the owner his pretty craft from a little distance, and who now approached the disconsolate youngster. ”

“ Captains never tak' their bare feet," said Macgregor, cheeringly, wading off with the yacht.
He enjoyed himself tremendously for nearly an hour, at the end of which period Charlie announced, a trifle timidly, that it was time for him to go home. ”