A' that ye say deserves attention.
It would be a shame to lat an auld body like you--"
"No that auld, Maister Bruce, gin ye kent the trowth!"
"Weel, ye're no ower young to need to be ta'en guid care o'--are ye,
Tibbie?"
Tibbie grunted.
"Weel, to come to the pint. There's nae doobt the hoose wants a hantle
o' doctorin'."
"'Deed does't," interposed Tibbie. "It'll want a new door. For forbye
'at the door's maist as wide as twa ordinar doors, it was ance in twa
halves like a chop-door. And they're ill jined thegither, and the win'
comes throu like a knife, and maist cuts a body in twa. Ye see the bit
hoosie was ance the dyer's dryin' hoose, afore he gaed further doon the
watter."
"Nae doobt ye're richt, Tibbie. But seein' that I maun lay oot sae
muckle, I'll be compelled to pit anither thrippence on to the rent."
"Ither thrippence, Robert Bruce! That's three thrippences i' the ook in
place o' twa. That's an unco rise! Ye canna mean what ye say! It's a'
that I'm able to do to pay my saxpence. An auld blin' body like me
disna fa' in wi' saxpences whan she gangs luikin aboot wi' her lang
fingers for a pirn or a prin that she's looten fa'."
"But ye do a heap o' spinnin', Tibbie, wi' thae lang fingers.
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