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"Keep me, Bawbie, whaur i' the face o' the earth hae you been?" he says, wi' his een stanin' in's heid, an' drawin' in his breath like's a shooer o' cauld water had been skootit aboot him. "You've shurely been awa' at the whalin'. Bless me, your feet's as cauld's an iceikle. Keep them awa' frae me." Isn't that juist like thae men?
Well, sar, soon ez eber de moon riz, Brer Rabbit, he stole out'n his house, and he lit right out fur dem goobers; and by'mby he sees de tar man er stanin' dar, an' he hollers out, 'Who's dat er stanin' dar an' er fixin' ter steal Brer Fox's goobers? Den he lis'en, and nobody nuver anser, and he 'gin ter git mad, and he sez, sezee, 'Yer brack nigger you, yer better anser me wen I speaks ter yer; and wid dat he hault off, he did, and hit de tar baby side de head, and his han' stuck fas' in de tar.
I dinna ken hoo it is ava', I canna help mysel' sometimes. Man, the daftest-like ideas tak' a haud o' me whiles juist like a flesher grippin' a sheep by the horns an', do what I like, I canna get oot o' their grips. For instance, I was gaen up the brae juist the ither nicht, an' the kirk offisher was stanin' at the kirk door.
"Go on, Jock," says ane o' them, gien anither ane a shuve forrit. "You're the captain; speak you." Jock gae a host, an' syne layin' his hand a gey clorty ane it was on the coonter, an' stanin' on ae fit, he says "Isyin?" "Wha micht he be?" says I. "Sandy," said the captain. "What Sandy?" says I. "No," said ane o' the birkies ahent; "your Sandy Sandy Bowden."
"I dinna ken, Sandy," said Bandy; "but it strik's me you have him into the lantern upside doon. He's stanin' on his heid." "He was a gey upside-doon character, at ony rate," said the Smith. "He was juist aboot as muckle use the tae wey as the tither." Sandy got his Provost putten richt; but some o' the rest o' his notables were juist as pranky.
Again followed a brief silence. 'Eh, but isna it strange? said Marion. 'Here's you and me stanin murnin ower anither man's bairn, and naewise kennin what's come o' oor ain twa! Dauvid, what can hae come o' Steenie and Kirsty? 'The wull o' God's what's come o' them; and God hand me i' the grace o' wussin naething ither nor that same!
Juist the ither day, for instance, Sandy was jumpin' doon aff the fore-end o' his cairt. His fit had tickled in aboot the britchin somewey, an' he cam' lick doon on the braid o' his back i' the gutter. The bobby was stanin' juist ower the road at the time, an' cam' rinnin' across wi' his moo wide open. "Keep me, Sandy, cratur," he says, "what's happen'd? Did you fa' aff the cairt?"
Up wi' him to the tap o' the poll!" Bandy cam' doon wi' his tackety buit on the boddom o' the butter kit, an' in it gaed, an' him wi't, an' there he was, clappin' his hands, an' stanin' juist like's he'd on a wid crinoline. You never heard sic a roostin' an' roarin' an' hear-hearin' an' hurrain'! I had to shut my een for fear o' bein' knokit deaf a'thegither.
Nathan was stanin' at the table as uswal, growk-growkin' awa' for a bit o' my tea biskit. "I dinna like growkin' bairns," I says to Nathan, juist as I was genna gie him a bit piece an' some noo grozer jeel on't. "I'm no' carin'," he says, blawin' his nose atween his finger an' his thoom, an' syne dichtin't wi' his bonnet. "I wasna growkin'; but at ony rate I'll no tell ye aboot Sandy.
It's made Pottie fearder than ever; they tell me he's been looking efter a job at the Freek bleechin,, so as to get awa' oot o' the toon for a while. "Are ye there, Sandy? Sandy, are ye there? Sandy! I winder whaur that man'll be? He'll gae awa' an' leave the shop stanin' open to the street, as gin it were a byre, an' never think naething aboot it! Are ye there, Sandy?"
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