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That was a nicht that has never been forgotten in Ba'weary, the nicht o' the seeventeenth of August, seventeen hun'er' an' twal'. It had been het afore, as I hae said, but that nicht it was hetter than ever.
'I ken naethin' aboot that, retorted the other, bringing his gaze down from the ceiling to rest upon the swag-bellied green bottle on the table beside him. 'It's gettin' on intil the "wee sma' hours ayont the twal," he added; 'ye mun hae a "deoch-an-doruis" afore startin' "aff."
D'ye think I wad hae comed out at twal o'clock at night, and amaist broken the Lord's day, just to tell a fa'en man o' his backslidings? Na, na, that's no Bailie Jarvie's gate, nor was't his worthy father's the deacon afore him.
"And there'll be the beastie to buy, my leddie. He'll be a lump of money, my leddie. Pownies ain't to be had for nowt in Ayrshire, as was ance, my leddie." "Of course I must pay for him." "He'll be a matter of ten pound, my leddie." "Very well." "Or may be twal; just as likely." And Mr. Gowran shook his head at his mistress in a most uncomfortable way.
But gin ye'll gan up the trap- stair to the laft, an' open Jenny's kist, ye'll see sic a story about it, printed by ane o' your learned Aberdeen's fouk, Maister Keith, I think; she coft it in Aberdeen for twal' pennies, lang ago, an' battered it to the lid o' her kist.
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