He remained at the pigsty until
Sam'l left the farm, when he joined him at the top of the brae, and they
went home together.
"It's yersel', Sanders," said Sam'l.
"It is so, Sam'l," said Sanders.
"Very cauld," said Sam'l.
"Blawy," assented Sanders.
After a pause--
"Sam'l," said Sanders.
"Ay."
"I'm hearing ye're to be mairit."
"Ay."
"Weel, Sam'l, she's a snod bit lassie."
"Thank ye," said Sam'l.
"I had ance a kin o' notion o' Bell mysel'," continued Sanders.
"Ye had?"
"Yes, Sam'l; but I thocht better o' 't."
"Hoo d' ye mean?" asked Sam'l, a little anxiously.
"Weel, Sam'l, mairitch is a terrible responsibeelity."
"It is so," said Sam'l, wincing.
"An' no the thing to tak' up withoot conseederation."
"But it's a blessed and honourable state, Sanders; ye've heard the
minister on 't."
"They say," continued the relentless Sanders, "'at the minister doesna
get on sair wi' the wife himsel'."
"So they do," cried Sam'l, with a sinking at the heart.
"I've been telt," Sanders went on, "'at gin ye can get the upper
han' o' the wife for a while at first, there's the mair chance o' a
harmonious exeestence.
Pages:
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36