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"I'll wager my next year's salary it's that young Turk, Neil, who's at the bottom of it all!" he cried when he had finished the dismal recital and wiped the perspiration from his face. "By Jove, if it isn't a fix! There's Splinterin' Andra over by the platform; he'll never get over it! Yes sir, it's young Neil Neil's done it all, with Patsy Regan's help.
Is that C Battery? I want to speak to FIRST CHATTY SIGNALLER. Haw, Jock, was ye hearin' aboot Andra? SECOND CHATTY SIGNALLER. No. Whit was that? FIRST CHATTY SIGNALLER. Weel Is that C Battery? "The worrking-parrty in question was duly detailed for tae proceed to the rendiss vowse at" THE ADJUTANT. Is that B Company, curse you? You're makin' a 'orrible mess of this message, ain't you?
Not one in the family looked at the insides of these relations of marvels except Andra, who, when he read the story of the Indian scout trailing the murderers of his squaw across a continent in order to annihilate them just before they entered New York city, felt that he had found his vocation which was to be at least an Indian scout, if indeed it was too late for him to think of being a full-blooded Indian.
We fixed on a cache, a hundred yards from the highway in a place where two ridges of hill enclosed the view so that only a short bit of road was visible. 'I'll get back to the Kyle, he told me, 'and a'body there kens Andra Amos, if ye should find a way of sendin' a message or comin' yourself. Oh, and I've got a word to ye from a lady that we ken of.
His young pastor's interests were his own and he had spoken from the highest motives. But he sighed when he thought how much better Duncan Polite would have dealt with the situation. Wee Andra was the only one who was quite at his ease; he seemed to realise that this pastoral visitation was something less rigid than former affairs of the sort, and chewed a straw with unconscious impudence. Mrs.
Old Andrew's sympathy moved him to rough, quick speech. "Ye're tryin' to carry the sins o' people who must suffer for their ain, Duncan McDonald," he said, with a harshness Duncan did not misunderstand. "It's nane o' your fault, man!" "It will be my inheritance, Andra," said the other, with quiet but firm conviction.
Shake your transmitter, do! Honkle, honkle, honk. Yang! BRIGADE HEADQUARTERS. Buzz it, my lad, buzz it! Ping, ping! Ping, ping! Ping, ping, ping! Ping GENERAL CHORUS. Stop that , , , buzzing! FIRST CHATTY SIGNALLER. Weel, Andra says tae the Sergeant-Major of Beer Company, says he THE ADJUTANT. Is that B Company? FIRST CHATTY SIGNALLER. No, sir; this is Beer Company. I said Beer Company!
She stumbled awkwardly through a loud, noisy march, which made the visitor want to grind his teeth, and as she finished Wee Andra came to life again. "Won't you sing something, Mr. Egerton?" he asked cordially. "He can sing jist boss, father; you ought to hear him." Old Andrew drew in a deep breath, but made no reply. The minister demurred at first, but finally yielded.
"If you boys are up to any mischief about the minister," warned Bella, "I'll tell your father. Andra Hish!" For the minister had arisen and was returning thanks for the food of which they had partaken. The noise was hushed and every head instantly lowered. The company broke up with the unanimous verdict that they had had a grand time and that the new minister was beyond praise.
They clasp, the same hands as fought and played together in the golden boyhood days. "Andra," said Gavin, "I'll repeat to you the twa best lines o' rhyme i' the language: An' div ye ken hoo true they are? "'We twa hae paidl't i' the burn Frae mornin' sun till dine'
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