Cottony clouds stood in a great castle over the top of
Arran, and blew out in long streamers to the south. The sea was
bitten all over with white; little ships, tacking up and down the
Firth, lay over at different angles in the wind. On Shanter they
were ploughing lea; a cart foal, all in a field by himself, capered
and whinnied as if the spring were in him.
The road from Turnberry to Girvan lies along the shore, among sand-
hills and by wildernesses of tumbled bent. Every here and there a
few cottages stood together beside a bridge. They had one odd
feature, not easy to describe in words: a triangular porch projected
from above the door, supported at the apex by a single upright post;
a secondary door was hinged to the post, and could be hasped on
either cheek of the real entrance; so, whether the wind was north or
south, the cotter could make himself a triangular bight of shelter
where to set his chair and finish a pipe with comfort. There is one
objection to this device; for, as the post stands in the middle of
the fairway, any one precipitately issuing from the cottage must run
his chance of a broken head.
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