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'Aw 'm sayin', he remarked to Merton, 'you're no Lairdie Bower. 'Hear till the man! Aw 'm Tammy Hamilton, o' Moss End in Lanerick. Aw 'm ganging to see ma Jean. 'For day or night Ma fancy's flight Is ever wi' ma Jean Ma bonny, bonny, flat-footed Jean, sang Merton, gliding from the strains of Robert Burns into those of Mr. Boothby.
'Aw 'm saying, billie, aw 'm saying, remarked one of the roughs, thrusting his dirty beard into Merton's face. 'Weel, be saying, said Merton. 'You're no Lairdie Bower, ye ken, ye haena the neb o' him. 'And wha the deil said a was Lairdie Bower? Aw 'm a Lanerick man. Lairdie's at hame wi' a sair hoast, answered Merton. 'But ye're wearing Lairdie Bower's auld big coat. 'And what for no?
'Jean's a Lanerick wumman, he added, 'she's in service in the Pleasance. Aw 'm ganging to my Jo. Ye'll a' hae Jos, billies? 'Aw 'm sayin', the intoxicated rough persisted, 'ye're no a Lanerick man. Ye're the English gentleman birkie that cam' to Kirkburn yestreen. 'Me ane o' the polis! Aw 'm askin' the company, div a look like a polisman?
'Haud up, man! said the rough, withdrawing the support. 'A' freens here, remarked Merton, drawing a dirty clay pipe from his pocket. 'Hae ye a spunk? The rough provided him with a match, and he killed some time, while Preston Pans was passed, in filling and lighting his pipe. 'Ye're a Lanerick man? asked the inquiring rough. 'Ay, a Hamilton frae Moss End. But I'm taking the play.
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