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"Surely ye maun hae an ill-wull at puir Jock, that wusses ye weel; what wad ony body say gin I poo'ed out sic a lump of gowd? 'There's that loon Jock been breakin' somebody's bank, an' then 'Fare-ye-weel, Kilaivie, to Jock's guid name. It's gane, like his last gless o' whusky, never to return." "But you are a long way from home, Jock; how will you get back?"
"An' they cam' to see you, granny?" asked Winsome, who approved of the subject. There we heard him routin' for three days till the cotmen fand him i' the hinderend, an' poo'ed him oot wi' cart-rapes. But when he got oot certes, but he was a wild beast! Reed breeks did na suit Jock's taste at the best o' times, and he had no been brocht up to countenance yellow facin's.
"Where is your brother? what is he doing all this time?" "Sittin alongside the coo, I dare say lest Daffady should be gettin the credit of her," said Polly, laughing. "The poor creetur fell three days sen summat like a stroke, t' farrier said, an Hubert's bin that jealous o' Daffady iver sen. He's actually poo'ed hissel' oot o' bed mornins to luke after her!
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