"Wha's speirin? an' what richt hae ye to speir?" returned the old man in an angry voice, and lifting himself quickly, though with an aching sigh, looked at him with hard blue eyes. "A countryman o' yer ain," answered Cosmo. "Mony ane's that 'at's naething the better nor the walcomer. Gie an accoont o' yersel', or the doags'll be lowsed upo' ye here in a jiffey.