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"'Drumtochty, a' said, 'an' we hev juist ae man as sma' as you in the hale Glen. "He gied awa' lauchin' like tae split his sides, an' the fac' is there's no ane o' them asks me a question but he lauchs. They're a licht-headed fouk, and no sair educat. But we maunna boast; they hevna hed oor advantages." The minister made a brave effort to assert himself.
This is an unco splutter, as the oald sow said when she tumbled in the gutter." "Ay," said Sandy Toddle, "a fuff in the pan, I'm thinking. He promises owre muckle to last long! He lauchs owre loud to be merry at the end o't. For the loudest bummler's no the best bee, as my father, honest man, used to tell the minister." "Ah-ah, I'm no so sure o' that," said Tam Brodie.
But the sea's never twa days the same. Even lauchin' she never lauchs twise wi' the same face, an' whan she sulks, she has a hunner w'ys o' sulkin'." "And how would you get a carriage up here?" said the marquis. "Fine that, my lord. There's a ro'd up as far's yon neuk.
She marries you in your dotage. She lauchs at you in company. She doesna allow you to smoke." "Away with you, you jade," cried the doctor in a fury, and feeling nervously for his pipe, "Mr. Dishart, you had better stay and arrange this matter as you choose, but I want a word with you outside." "And you're no angry wi' me, doctor, are you?" asked Nanny wistfully.
"We dinna hear 'at the Saviour himsel' ever sae muckle as smiled," said he. "Weel, that wad hae been little wonner, wi' what he had upo' 'm. But I'm nae sure that he didna, for a' that. Fowk disna aye tell whan a body lauchs.
An' he stands wi' his thooms i' the oxter holes o' his weyscot, an' lauchs, an' says, "Tyuch; naething ava; no wirth speakin' aboot," when I tell them hoo big I am aboot it. She's genna be broken on Munanday Nooeer's-day. If you're pasain' oor wey, look in an' get a crummie. I'll be richt gled to see you, I'm shure. A happy noo 'ear to you, when it comes an' mony may ye see! Ah-hy!
"Man, man, there's no nae doubt at ye lauoh at havers, an' there's mony 'at lauchs 'at your clipper-clapper, but they're no Thrums fowk, and they canna' lauch richt. But we maun juist settle this matter. When we're ta'en up wi' the makkin' o' humour, we're a' dependent on other fowk to tak' note o' the humour. There's no nane o' us 'at's lauched at anything you've telt us. But they'll lauch at me.
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