“My lad!”
“I want to paint your likeness.”
This was for a souvenir, poor fellow!
“Hech! I wad like fine to be painted.”
“It must be exactly the same size as yourself, and so like you, that, should we be parted, I may seem not to be quite alone in the world.”
Here he was obliged to turn his head away.
“But we'll no pairt,” replied Christie, cheerfully. “Suppose ye're puir, I'm rich, and it's a' one; dinna be so cast down for auchty pund.”
At this, a slipshod servant entered, and said: “There's a fisher lad, inquiring for Christie Johnstone.”
“It will be Flucker,” said Christie; “show him ben. What's wrang the noo I wonder!”
The baddish boy entered, took up a position and remained apparently passive, hands in pockets.