"And if ye wanted to bend?" demanded Jim.
Ellen shoved out her tongue at him.
"Ye never said onything aboot bendin', and ye dinna need to bend onywye."
"What aboot when ye're gaitherin' tatties?" crowed Jim.
Ellen tossed her head.
"Aw wasna thinkin' o' the sort o' man that gaithers tatties; Aw was thinkin' o' gentlemen's breeks ... the kind o' breeks ye'll never hae, Jim Jackson."
Jim sighed and gave me a look which I took to mean: "Women are impossible when it comes to arguing." He thought for a time; then he looked up with twinkling eyes.
"Aw've got it!"
"Well?"
"Do away wi' breeks a'-the-gether, and wear kilts."