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Bide ye a bit, though! WHAN he's gotten't, it's doon they're a' upo' their k-nees til 'im thegither. But gien they be prood, he's prooder, an' lat him ance get his heid up, an' rid o' the trustees, an' fowk upo' their marrow banes til 'im, haith, he'll lat them sit there, or I'm mistaen in 'im." "Then has my lady no companions at all?"
Sandy kickit at the door, an' Pottie yalled like a wild cat. Sandy cam' awa' an' met the ither billies, an', stoppin' them, tell'd them he was nae mare mismirized than they were. "I wantit to gie Pottie a fleg, an' I think he's gotten't," says he. "Him an' me's square noo." They gaed back to Stumpie's cellar, an' gin this time there were twenty laddies an' twa pileece roond the door.
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