"
"I'm sure ye can hae no rizzon to tak' shame o' your legs, gude wife,"
was the gallant rejoinder; to which their owner replied, with a laugh:
"They warna made for public inspection, ony gait."
"Hoot! hoot! Naebody saw them. I s' warran' ye didna lie lang! But thae
loons--they're jist past a'! Heard ye hoo they saired Rob Bruce?"
"Fegs! they tell me they a' but buried him alive."
"Ow! ay. But it's a later story, the last."
"It's a pity there's no a dizzen or twa o' them in Awbrahawm's
boasom.--What did they till him neist?"
Here Andrew Constable dropped in, and Chapman turned towards him with
the question:
"Did _ye_ hear, Mr Constable, what the loons did to Robert Bruce the
nicht afore last?"
"No. What was that? They hae a spite at puir Rob, I believe."
"Weel, it didna look a'thegither like respeck, I maun alloo.--I was
stannin' at the coonter o' his shop waitin' for an unce o' sneeshin';
and Robert he was servin' a bit bairnie ower the coouter wi' a
pennyworth o' triacle, when, in a jiffey, there cam' sic a blast, an' a
reek fit to smore ye, oot o' the bit fire, an' the shop was fu' o'
reek, afore ye could hae pitten the pint o' ae thoom upo' the pint o'
the ither.
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