He was a great boaster, too--he'd tell us, without a blush, of the most desperate things he'd done, and of how brave he'd been.

He was the bravest man alive, to hear him tell it.
They were askin' me to sing one day, and I was ready to oblige, when Jock started.
"Bide a wee, Harry, man," he said, "while I'll be tellin' ye of a thing that happened to me on the veldt in America once." "The veldt's in South Africa, Jock," someone said, slyly.
"No, no--it's the Rocky Mountains you're meaning.

They're in South Africa--I climbed three of them there in a day, once.

Weel, I was going to tell ye of this time when we were hunting gold----" And he went on, to spin a yarn that would have made Ananias himself blush.

When he was done it was time to gang back to work, and my song not sung! I'd a new chorus I was wanting them to hear, too, and I was angry with puir Jock--more shame to me! And so I resolved to see if he was as brave as he was always saying.