"Noo, Mr Doo?" he said.
"My business'll keep," replied Dow.
"But ye see we're busy the nicht, Mr Doo."
"Weel, I dinna want to hurry ye. But I wonner that ye wad buy ill
butter, to please onybody, even a bonnie lass like that."
"Some fowk likes the taste o' neeps, though I dinna like it mysel',"
answered Bruce. "But the fac' that neeps is no a favourite wi' the
maist o' fowk, brings doon the price i' the market."
"Neeps is neither here nor there," said the girl; and taking up her
basket, she was going to leave the shop.
"Bide a bit, my lass," cried Bruce. "The mistress wad like to see ye.
Jist gang benn the hoose to her wi' yer basket, and see what she thinks
o' the butter. I may be wrang, ye ken."
So saying he opened the inner door, and ushered the young woman into
the kitchen.
"Noo, Mr Doo?" he said once more. "Is't tobawco, or sneeshin (snuff),
or what is't?"
"It's Annie Anderson's kist and a' her gear."
"I'm surprised at ye, Jeames Doo. There's the lassie's room up the
stair, fit for ony princess, whanever she likes to come back till't.
But she was aye a royt (riotous) lassie, an' a reglar rintheroot."
"Ye lee, Rob Bruce," exclaimed Dow, surprised out of his proprieties.
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