"
"Ou, weel," said Sam'l, implying that a man must take these things as
they come.
"For ye're a dainty chield to look at, Sam'l."
"Do ye think so, Eppie? Ay, ay; oh, I d'na kin am onything by the
ordinar."
"Ye mayna be," said Eppie, "but lasses doesna do to be ower-partikler."
Sam'l resented this, and prepared to depart again.
"Ye'll no tell Bell that?" he asked, anxiously.
"Tell her what?"
"Aboot me an' Mysy."
"We'll see hoo ye behave yersel', Sam'l."
"No 'at I care, Eppie; ye can tell her gin ye like. I widna think twice
o' tellin' her mysel'."
"The Lord forgie ye for leein', Sam'l," said Eppie, as he disappeared
down Tammy Tosh's close. Here he came upon Henders Webster.
"Ye're late, Sam'l," said Henders.
"What for?"
"Ou, I was thinkin' ye wid be gaen the length o' T'nowhead the nicht,
an' I saw Sanders Elshioner makkin' 's wy there an 'oor syne."
"Did ye?" cried Sam'l, adding craftily, "but it's naething to me."
"Tod, lad," said Henders, "gin ye dinna buckle to, Sanders'll be
carryin' her off."
Sam'l flung back his head and passed on.
"Sam'l!" cried Henders after him.
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