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Gin ye lippen to them, ye'll be i' the water in a cat-loup." Alec was beginning to enter into the humour of the man. "I see something like poetry lying about the table, Mr Cupples," said he, with a sly allusion to the rainbows. "Would you let me look at it?" Mr Cupples glanced at him sharply; but replied immediately: "Broken bits o' them!
They aye luik as gin they war hearin' 't. For the first time I loot the gloamin come doon upo' me i' this same leebrary, a' at ance I heard the sma' nicher o' a woman's lauch frae somewhaur in or oot o' the warl'. I grew as het's hell, and was oot at the door in a cat-loup. And as sure's death I'll hear't again, gin I bide ae minute langer. Come oot wi' ye."
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