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Bandy grippit Sandy by the shuders an' heized him up on his feet; an' there he stuid, wi' his een shut' an' his airms an' legs hingin' like's he was dreepin' o' water. Bandy shot up his heid an opened his een wi' his fingers, an' there was Sandy juist like Dominy Sampson i' the museum.

"Speak aboot pettin' Sandy Bowden at the tap o' the poll. He'll be mair use at the end o' the bissam shaft, I'm thinkin'." "C'wey, you lads," says Bandy. "I'm soakin' dreepin' throo an' throo, an' it's time I was oot o' this." "Hear, hear," says Watty again; an' oot the entry they a' merched withoot a wird.

When we cam' aff at the Meadows, Sandy gaed roond aboot the beast, chucklin' awa' till himsel' juist like watter dreepin' intil a tume cistern; but he keepit oot o' the reach o' the cabby's kornals. I expeckit to see him get roond the linders wi' them for his impidence.

He turned an' gaed his ways oot o' that room, and locket the door ahint him; and step by step doon the stairs, as heavy as leed; and set doon the can'le on the table at the stair-foot. He couldnae pray, he couldnae think, he was dreepin' wi' caul' swat, an' naething could he hear but the dunt-dunt-duntin' o' his ain heart.

He turned an' gaed his ways oot o' that room, and lockit the door ahint him; and step by step, doon the stairs, as heavy as leed; and set doon the can'le on the table at the stairfoot. He couldnae pray, he couldnae think, he was dreepin' wi' caul' swat, an' naething could he hear but the dunt-dunt-duntin' o' his ain heart.