Merton carolled.
‘Thon’s no a Scotch lilt,’ remarked one of the roughs.
‘A ken it’s Irish,’ said Merton. ‘But, billie, the whusky’s Scotch!’
The train slowed and the old gentleman got out. From the platform he stormed at Merton.
‘Ye’re no an awakened character, ma freend,’ answered Merton. ‘Gude nicht to ye! Gie ma love to the gude wife and the weans!’
The train pursued her course.
‘Aw ’m saying, billie, aw ’m saying,’ remarked one of the roughs, thrusting his dirty beard into Merton’s face.
‘Weel, be saying,’ said Merton.
‘You’re no Lairdie Bower, ye ken, ye haena the neb o’ him.’
‘And wha the deil said a was Lairdie Bower? Aw ’m a Lanerick man. Lairdie’s at hame wi’ a sair hoast,’ answered Merton.