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Weel-a-weel, we landit at Edinboro, an Meg was waitin's, an' as mony bairns wi' her as wudda startit a raggit schule although they were a' braw an' snod, I ashure ye. "Keep me, Meg," said Sandy, efter he'd shaken hands wi' her, "is thae a' your litlans? Dod, sic a cleckin!" The ass that he is! I saw Meg chowl her chafts gey angry like, an' I took Sandy a doish i' the back wi' my umberell.
The train gae a shoag juist at that meenit, an' he gaed doit ower on the tap o' Sandy, and brocht a tin box doish doon on his heid. He got a gey tnap, I can tell you.
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