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He was berfit, an' had his jecket an' weyscot aff, an' his gallaces lowsed i' the front an' tied roond his weyst. "We've won the toss, Sandy," says he, "an' the Collie Park's genna handle the willa first. We've sent them in to see what they'll mak'." Sandy took me up the brae a bit, an' I got set doon on the girss wi' Nathan aside me.
I took him wi's juist to explain the match, d'ye see, an' aboot the bats an' wickets, an' sic like, an' so on, because I'm no' juist acquant wi' a' the oots an' ins o' the thing. A lot o' the loons gathered roond an' lay doon on the girss, an' they keepit their tongues gaen to the playin', I can tell ye. Ye wudda thocht they kent mair aboot cricket than the loons that were playin'.
We were sittin' enjoyin' a crack, an' lookin' oot at the windas, watchin' the bairns in their coaches, an' the birds fleein' aboot as happy as crickets, huntin' for wirms amon' the young girss. "The Meadows look very pretty i' the noo," said Mester Blair. "The very birds enjoy the fresh green grass." "They do that," put in Sandy. "It's a treat to see them, puir things.
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