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"Na, na; twa's a plenty, I'm tellin' ye." "But I'm afraid we'll have to do with two." The Scotch-Canadian evinced his satisfaction openly. "Mair'd be a bother; an' I doot not ye'll mak' it all richt, lad." "And you'll make one of those two, Tommy," Corliss went on, inexorably. "Na; there's ithers a plenty wi'oot coontin' me." "No, there's not. Courbertin doesn't know the first thing. St.
It will have a gude active look, and I hae aye plenty on my list, that wadna be a hair the waur of a week or twa's imprisonment; and if ye thought it no strictly just, ye could be just the easier wi' them the neist time they did onything to deserve it; they arena the sort to be lang o' gieing ye an opportunity to clear scores wi' them on that account."
The ither twa's gey queer that wey; they get a'thing preserved in tins, frae aboot London they tell me." Mester Blair didna appear to understand Sandy, an' he speered, "Do you get cash again' Billy Lowden; or hoo d'ye get peyment?" "If the bawbees is no' at the back o' the cairt, up goes the bawk, an' Donal' ca's awa," says Sandy. "Na, na, neen o' your Billy Lowden tick for me.
"Sandy's a fulish man," said Dauvid, when we landit at the shop door. "Ye micht as weel tell me that twice twa's fower, Dauvid," says I. "Fulish is no' the wird for't." "There's been some haiverin' amon' them aboot rinnin'; an' Sandy, like an auld fule, had been bouncin' aboot what he could do," gaed on Dauvid, withoot mindin' what I said.
Willie, his mischievous self again, got in a nasty one by inquiring how much he had paid for the cab the night before last. 'Ye dirty spy! cried Macgregor. 'What for did ye hook it in the pictur' hoose an' leave her wi' me? She was your affair. 'I never asked her to spend the evening', Willie retorted, truthfully enough, 'Twa's comp'ny. Macgregor felt his face growing hot.
"Twa's better at onything nor ane himblane. The sutor's wife's gaein' in to see Grannie, an' Grannie 'll like her cracks a heap better nor mine. She thinks I hae nae mair brains nor a hen,'cause I canna min' upo' things at war nearhan' forgotten or I was born." Cosmo desisted from useless persuasion, and they struggled on together, through the snow above and the snow beneath.
It will have a gude active look, and I hae aye plenty on my list, that wadna be a hair the waur of a week or twa's imprisonment; and if ye thought it no strictly just, ye could be just the easier wi' them the neist time they did onything to deserve it; they arena the sort to be lang o' gieing ye an opportunity to clear scores wi' them on that account."
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