"
"I dinna think, wi' sic an opingon o' 'm, it can maitter muckle to you
whether I like him or no," returned Mr Cupples, looking at her
quizzically.
"Na, nae muckle as regairds him. But it says weel for you, ye ken, Mr
Cupples," replied Annie archly.
Mr Cupples laughed good-humouredly, and said,
"Weel, I s' gang and see him the morn's nicht, ony gait."
And so he did. And the porridge and the milk were both good.
"This is heumble fare, Mr Cupples," said Thomas.
"It maitters little compairateevely what a man lives upo'," said
Cupples sententiously, "sae it be first-rate o' 'ts ain kin'. And this
_is_ first-rate."
"Tak' a drappy mair, sir."
"Na, nae mair, I thank ye."
"They'll be left, gin ye dinna."
"Weel, sen' them ower to Mr Bruce," said Cupples, with a sly wink. "I
s' warran' he'll coup them ower afore they sud be wastit. He canna bide
waste."
"Weel, that's a vertue. The Saviour himsel' garred them gaither up the
fragments."
"Nae doobt. But I'm feared Bruce wad hae coontit the waste by hoo mony
o' the baskets gaed by his door. I'm surprised at ye, Mr Crann, tryin'
to defen' sic a meeserable crater, jist 'cause he gangs to your kirk.
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