There were lots of merry Scotch lassies here, and they delighted to torment and tease Sandie.
“Sandie,” said one, “I’ve a good mind to tie the dish-cloth round your head.”
“Tie it round your own,” said Sandie. “Anything becomes a good-looking face, my bonnie Betsy.”
“Sandie,” said another buxom girl, “you were drunk last night. I’m sure of it.”
“No, not so very full, Fanny. I hadn’t enough to get happy and jolly on.”
“But wouldn’t you like a hair of the doggie that bit you this morning?”
“Indeed would I, Fanny. I never say no to a drop of good Scotch.”
“Well, ye’ll have to go to the village. Ye’ll get none here. Just make your brose, and be content.”
Sandie did as he was bidden. Into a huge wooden bowl, called a “caup,” he put three large handfuls of fine oatmeal and a modicum of salt. The kettle was boiling wildly on the fire, so the water was poured on and stirred, and the “brose” was made.
A huge piece of butter was placed in the centre, and the bowl was flanked by a quart of new milk.