Christie. “Aweel, what est?”
Flucker. “Custy.”
Christie. “What's your will, my manny?”
Flucker. “Custy, I was at Inch Keith the day.”
Christie. “And hae ye really come to Edinbro' to tell me thaat?”
Flucker (dryly). “Oh! ye ken the lasses are a hantle wiser than we are—will ye hear me? South Inch Keith, I played a bowl i' the water, just for divairsion—and I catched twarree fish!”
Christie. “Floonders, I bet.”
Flucker. “Does floonders swim high? I'll let you see his gills, and if ye are a reicht fishwife ye'll smell bluid.”
Here he opened his jacket, and showed a bright little fish.
In a moment all Christie's nonchalance gave way to a fiery animation. She darted to Flucker's side.