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"'Won't ye step into the cabin, gentlemen, and take a glass o' wine? says Cap'n Carew, very polite; and the wind came in fresher, something like a squall for a few minutes, and the men had the sails spread before you could say Jack Robi'son, and before those fellows knew what they were about the old brig was a standing out to sea, and the folks on the wharves cheered and yelled.
'That's no what I meant. Christina wud never put up wi' Macgreegor lookin' at anither lass. 'Weemen was born jealous; but it's guid for them. 'John Robi'son! ha'e ye the face to tell me ye wud approve o' Macgreegor cairryin' on wi' anither lass when he's engaged to Christina? 'Of course I wudna exac'ly approve o' it. Mr. Robinson scratched his head.
'I'll tell ye what's wrang wi' you, Macgreegor Robi'son! Willie cleared his throat noisily. 'Listen! Ye're ower weel aff. Ye've got a dacent fayther an' mither an' brither an' sister; ye've got a dacent uncle; ye've got a dacent girl. . . . An' what the hell ha'e I got? A rotten aunt! Maybe she canna help bein' rotten, but she is damp rotten!
Meeker smilingly continued, "I was up there yisterday, and one of the young turkeys had come hoppin' and quawkin' round the doorsteps with its leg broke, and she'd caught it and fixed it off with a splint before you could say Jack Robi'son. She told how it was the way you'd done to Jim Finch that fell from the hay-rigging and broke his arm over to Jake an' Martin's, haying time."
McOstrich was painfully fluttered by having a real live kiltie in her little parlour, which was adorned as heretofore with ornaments borrowed from the abodes of her guests. Though Macgregor was acquainted with all the guests, she insisted upon solemnly introducing him, along with his betrothed to each individual with the formula: 'This is Private Robi'son an' his intended.
Then I'll come back an' go t' school if I don't git wrecked like Robi'son Crusoe." "My stars!" said Trove, with a look of awe. "Like t' go?" the other inquired. "Guess I would!" "Better stay t' home; it's a hard life." This with an air of parental wisdom. "I've read 'Robi'son Crusoe," said Trove, as if it were some excuse. "I've got half through the Bible," said Trove.
'I'm off, said Macgregor but his arm was gripped. The girl turned. 'Hullo, she said coolly; 'still livin'? Catching sight of Macgregor, she giggled. It was not an unpleasing giggle. Lean girls cannot produce it. 'This is Private Macgreegor Robi'son, said Willie, unabashed. She smiled and held out her hand. After a moment she said to Willie: 'Are ye no gaun to tell him ma name, stupid?
Seems ter me, Kiddie, if you was livin' on a desert island, same's that chap Robi'son Crusoe, you'd still show a example of perlite table manners t' the poll parrot an' the nanny goat." Kiddie smiled in amusement. "Well, well, Gid," he said, "you just wait until Rube an' I come back from our camp in the forest. I shall have dropped all the objectionable politeness by then.
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