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Updated: April 30, 2025
"No, serjint, I canna, because I've to start airly the morn's mornin' wi' a pairty to meet the Scots Gairds comin' back frae Tamai, but the moment I come back I'll come to ye." "That will do thank you. And now, Gaspard, what's the news from England? I hear that a mail has just come in." "News that will make your blood boil," said Gaspard sternly.
Some women washin' doon below saw them and gied the alarm. The gairds cam', the hue and cry was raised, the yetts were shut and fifteen were catched an' brought back but twenty-five got away. My heart is wae for the fifteen.
When yon lassie was singin' sae bonnie, "John Anderson, my Jo," a' the fowk's heids were hingin'; but at "Scots wha hae" they sat up like life gairds, and ilky body near me lookit like's it wudna be cannie speakin' to them. There was ae thing they sang that wasna on the programme that I thocht awfu' muckle o'. It was something aboot "Tramp! Tramp! Tramp!"
I heard him yatterin' awa' till himsel' i' the back shop, "The great battle o' Waterloo was fochen in echteen fifteen atween the English an' the French, an' Bloocher landit on the scene juist as Wellinton was gien the order Tuts, ye stupid blockheid, Nathan, that saft-soap barrel disna gae there 'Up gairds an' at them." He gaed on like this for the feck o' the efternune, an' even in the middle o' his tea, when I speered if it was het eneuch, he lookit at me akinda ravelled like, and says, "Although ye was startin' for that star the day you was born, stride-legs on a cannon ball, ye wudna be there till ye was mair than ninety 'ear auld."
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