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A few there were besides who always had been, for reasons perhaps best known to themselves, less than friendly. The women were all cordial. "Sic a mad-like thing," said old Futtocks, who was now the leader of the assembly at the barn, "to gang scoorin' the cuintry on that mad brute o' a mere! What guid, think ye, can come sic like?" "H'ard ye him ever tell the story aboot Colonsay Castel yon'er?"
As oor respeckit chairman says, I'm no' like Ralph the Rover, sailin' awa' an' scoorin' the sea for mony a day. That looks like a pure weyst o' soap juist like what goes on i' the Toon Cooncil daily-day. You may lauch, freends, but it's ower true; an' wha is't peys for't?" "It's his! It's his, lads!" roared a' the billies i' the washin'-hoose. "It is so," said Sandy.
Aggie, I'm grouin' auld, an' railly no fit to mak a bed my lane no to mention scoorin' the flure! It's no considerate o' ye, Aggie! jist 'cause yer father hoots, he was but yer gran'father! 's deid o' a guid auld age, an' gaithert til HIS fathers, to gang an' lea' me my lane! Whaur am I to get a body I cud bide to hae i' my sicht, an' you awa' you 'at's been like bane o' my bane to me!
"Oor Toon Cooncil's juist like this Ralph the Rover, gaen awa' scoorin' the sea for nae end for the sea's no' needin' scoorin' when he michta been at hame helpin' his wife to ca' the washin'-machine. It's usef'u' wark we want. Neen o' your Bailie Thingymabob's capers, wi' his donkey engines, eksettera. Echt thoosand pound for a noo kirkyaird! Did ye ever hear the like!
But eh! to see that puir negleckit bairn o' his rin scoorin' aboot the toon yon gait wi' little o' a jacket but the collar, an' naething o' the breeks but the doup eh, wuman! it maks a mither's hert sair to luik upo' 't. It's a providence 'at his mither's weel awa' an' canna see't; it wad gar her turn in her grave." George was the first arrival at Mistress Croale's that night.
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