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"When I gaed up the stair wi' a licht, what did I see but my Auntie Leeb's braw lookin'-gless a' to flinders i' the flure? The licht o' the can'le had burned up against it, an' riven't a' to pieces. When I turned roond, here's Sandy stappin' ooten his kilt, an' gaen awa' to pet on his troosers.
Turn the lookin'-gless roond this wey a bittie on the dresser there, an I'll notice in't if onybody comes into the shop, an' tell them to hover a blink till ye rin yont to Mary's. Rin noo, Sandy, an' speer at Mary if she has coals an' sticks, an' tell her to keep on a gude fire. Puir cratur!"
Ay weel, here he was wi' a bawbee can'le stuck up again' the boddom o' the lookin'-gless, an' him maleengerin' aboot i' the flure afore't, wi' the shaft o' the heather bissam in his hand, whiskin't roond his lugs, progin' aboot wi't, an' lowpin' here an' there like a hen on a het girdle.
I turned roond to the dresser-heid, no' to lat him see me lauchin' for I cudna keep it in an' pretendit to be lookin' for something. "It is so, Bawbie," says he; an' I noticed him i' the lookin'-gless pettin' his thoom till his nose. I whiskit roond aboot gey quick, an' he drappit his hands like lichtnin', an' began whistlin' "Tillygorm."
"Auch, she's i' the shop," he says heich oot; an' then he floo back an' forrit, fencin' an' jookin', an glowerin' at himsel' i' the lookin'-gless; an' girnin' his teeth like a whitterit. I raley thocht the man had gane sketch. He made a sweech wi' the bissam shaft 'at garred the licht o' the can'le waggle frae side to side.
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