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Updated: May 21, 2025
I was juist in a fivver wi' him an' his ongaens. Hooever, we landit a' richt in Edinboro. An' what a day! I thocht when we got to a temperance hotel at nicht that I had a chance o' an 'oor's peace. But haud your tongue! Weesht! I'll juist gie you the thick o' the story clean aff luif.
"Come on, Wullie!" he cried. "'Scots wha hae'! Noo's the day and noo's the hour! Come on!" On the table before him, serene and beautiful, stood the target of his madness. The little man ran at it, swinging his murderous weapon like a flail. "Oor's or naebody's Wullie! Come on!
Na; they plotted, they conspired, they worked ilka ain o' them agin us, and they beat us. Ay, and noo they're robbin' us robbin' us! But they shallna ha' her. Oor's or naebody's, Wullie! We'll finish her sooner nor that." He banged the Cup down on the table and rushed madly out of the room, Red Wull at his heels. In a moment he came running back, brandishing a great axe about his head.
Efter a while he put oot the gas, an' syne began to tak' aff his claes, an' wide aboot amon' the furniture as uswal. He got intil his bed efter a quarter o' an oor's miscellaneous scramblin', an' was sune snorin' like a dragoon. When I got atower i' the mornin', what is there sittin' on my chair but a great muckle shortie in a braw box, wi' a Christmas caird on the tap o't.
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