"I thocht ye was a wild beast!" said Annie.
"I was only growlin' for fun to mysel'," answered Curly, who would have done it all the more if he had known there was any one on the road. "I didna ken 'at I was fleggin' onybody. An' hoo are ye, Annie? An' hoo's Blister Bruce?"
For Curly was dreadfully prolific in nicknames.
Annie had not seen him for six months. He had continued to show himself so full of mischief, though of a comparatively innocent sort, that his father thought it better at last to send him to a town at some distance to learn the trade of a saddler, for which he had shown a preference.
This was his first visit to his home. Hitherto his father had received no complaints of his behaviour, and had now begged a holiday.
"Ye're grown sair, Annie," he said.
"Sae are ye, Curly," answered Annie.
"An' hoo's Alec?"
"He's verra weel."
Whereupon much talk followed, which need not be recorded. At length
Curly said: