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They wudda gane through the washin'-hoose door if it hadna happened to be open. I had forgotten aboot them at the time; but, keep me, when they cam' oot o' Dauvid's efter their tea, I floo to the door. I thocht it was somebody run ower.
"There's no' nae lions' dens nooadays, ye see," say Sandy, to feenish up wi'. "What is't they do wi' creeminals or notorious fowk noo?" "Pet them on for Toon Cooncillers," said ane o' the biggest o' Dauvid's laddies; an' Bandy Wobster lut oot a great ballach o' a lauch, an' roared at the pitch o' his voice "Confoond it! Feech! I've swallowed a bit tobacco!"
The ham dip gaed up the lum in a gloze, an' here was Sandy an' Dauvid's wife lyin' i' the middle o' a' the mairter o' rubbitch. Mistress Kenawee's face, puir thing, was as white as a cloot; but Sandy's was as black as the man More o' Vennis, the bleckie that smored his wife i' the theatre for carryin' on wi' a sodger. What a job Dauvid an' me had gettin' them roond.
"Wha's speakin' aboot stars?" says I; "I'm speerin' if your tea's het eneuch?" "O, ay, yea, I daursay; it's a' richt," says Sandy. "I was mindin' aboot Sirias, the nearest fixed star, ye ken. I winder what it's fixed wi'?" Seven o'clock cam' roond, an' Dauvid's bairns gaed throo oor entry like's they'd startit for Sandy's fixed star.
"This is a picture o' the deputation that waited on some o' the members o' the Toon Cooncil at lest election an' priggit wi' them to bide in, altho' they were awfu' anxious to hae dune wi't." "That's like a picture o' a bunghole withoot a barrel roond it," said ane o' Dauvid's laddies. "There's naebody there, Sandy," said Bandy Wobster. "Ay, but that's the deputation tho'," said Sandy.
"O, golly midgins!" says ane o' Dauvid's lassies, wi' her hands up, an' her moo an' her een wide open. You never heard sic a riffin' as there was, the laddies a' roarin' "The King o' the Cannibal Islands," an' Sandy wirrin' like a perfeck terrier. "That's some o' Robbie Boath's wark," he says in laich till himsel', wi' an awfu' girn on his face.
Among others told was one about the old Highland woman who said to him: "Doctor, nane of your modern improvements for me. I want naething but good old Dauvid's Psalms, and I want'em all sung to Dauvid's tunes, too."
"Ay weel, Sandy," says I, "gin ye get on wi' your magic lantern as weel's ye generally manish wi' the washin' machine, when I'm needin' a hand o' ye, I'll swag Dauvid's bairns 'ill no' be lang keepit." "Tach, Bawbie, you're aye takin' fowk aff wi' your impidence," says Sandy, gey ill-natured like. But Dauvid an' Bandy juist took a bit lauch at him.
"See that ye never get a drunkard's liver," said Sandy in a solemn voice; an' ane o' Dauvid's laddies says, "By golly, I wudna like a sowser o' a liver like that, onywey," an' set a' the rest a-lauchin'.
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