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It was twa strucken 'oors afore he got to the shop door wi' the cairt, an' baith him an' the horse were sweitin' afore they startit on his roonds. Sandy was lookin' gey raised like, so I lut him get on a' his tatties an' said naething. Stumpie Mertin cam' by, an', lookin' at Princie, gae his heid a claw. "What are ye stanin' glowerin' at?" says Sandy till him, gey snappit like.
A body can aye streitch himself doon under a tree for a bit sleep withoot getting wasps and wee beasties crawling up inside his kilt, and puddocks craw-crawing in his ear! A body can keep himself frae sweitin' " "He can that!" assents M'Snape, whose spare frame is more vulnerable to the icy breeze than that of the stout corporal. However, the balance of public opinion is against Mucklewame.
Sandy landit cloit doon on the flure, an' sat sweitin', an' pechin', an' ac'ually greetin'. What a picture he presentit! I cudna tell ye a' what he said. There were a lot o' wirds amon't that's no' i' the dictionar'; an' I can tell ye, if Pottie Lawson an' Bandy Wobster get the half o' what Sandy promised them, baith in this world an' the next, they'll no hae far to find for a sair place.
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