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"Wha's speirin? an' what richt hae ye to speir?" returned the old man in an angry voice, and lifting himself quickly, though with an aching sigh, looked at him with hard blue eyes. "A countryman o' yer ain," answered Cosmo. "Mony ane's that 'at's naething the better nor the walcomer. Gie an accoont o' yersel', or the doags'll be lowsed upo' ye here in a jiffey.

'Hoot! was there ever sic a laddie! said Betty, attempting to laugh it off. 'Be sure ye be back afore tay-time, 'cause yer grannie 'ill be speirin' efter ye, and ye wadna hae me lee aboot ye? 'I wad hae naebody lee about me. Ye jist needna lat on 'at ye hear her. Ye can be deif eneuch when ye like, Betty. But I s' be back afore tay-time, or come on the waur.

"Na, na; there's mony a lad mair ill-looking than yoursel', Davie." "I hae na seen him, lass, and I'm just a-thinkin' I shouldna' care to." "Better a plain man, Davie, that ye can depend a' than ane that would be a speirin' at the lassies, a-bringin' trouble into the hame wi' his flouting ways."

Where foot of man had once parted the undergrowth the very breath of the wind followed and threaded its way after him, bearing messages to and fro. "I'm no speirin'," said the oldster cautiously. "But though our lads have never been so far, there's talk of a braw house buildin'." Here, somewhat hastily, Sir Oliver took him aside, and they spent twenty minutes or so in converse together.

There's a trouble upo' ye. I'm no speirin' ony questons. But jist haud a grip o' yersel'. Rainbows! Rainbows! We'll jist hae a walk thegither, an' I'll instruck ye i' the first prenciples o' naiteral philosophy.

"O, I wad like to ken to the beggar-wife says I Why chops are guid to brander and nane sae guid to fry, An' siller, that's sae braw to get, is brawer still to gie. It's gey an' easy speirin', says the beggar-wife to me." It is always easier for poor human nature to weep with those who weep than to rejoice with those who rejoice.

The leddy took me up till a hoose, an' anither are that wis there came doon hame and gaed in ben, an' wis speirin' for ye, an' says she'll gie me till the polis for singin' an' askin' money in t' streets, an' wants you to gie me till her to pit in schuil." She stopped and fixed her eyes on him, watching the effect of her words. Wishart laid down his bread and cheese and stared back at her.

'Maybe I could ha'e endured it till the week was up, if it hadna been for ma auld frien'. Ye see, the puir body couldna speak or think o' onything excep' airyplanes fleein' through the air an' drappin' bombs on her dwellin' hoose an' her hen-hoose, no forgettin' her pig-hoose. Mornin', noon an' nicht, she kep' speirin' at me if I was prepared to meet ma Maker, maybe wantin' a leg.

"Hoo d'ye kin I'll be at the T'nowhead the nicht?" he asked, grinning in anticipation. "Ou, I'se warrant ye'll be after Bell," said Eppie. "Am no sae sure o' that," said Sam'l, trying to leer. He was enjoying himself now. "Am no sure o' that," he repeated, for Eppie seemed lost in stitches. "Sam'l!" "Ay." "Ye'll be speirin' her sune noo, I dinna doot?"

Mac Tavish remembered the crashing blow to his proud pronunciamiento that forenoon, and his natural caution regarding statements caused him to hesitate. "He is supposed to coom frae the mill at ten o'clock, antemeridian! Postmeridian, Master Morrison, of St. Ronan's not the mayor he cooms to his desk yon well, when he cooms isna the concern o' those who are speirin for a mayor."