‘Ax yor mither, then,’ shouted Tommy, as he ducked and broke away from his captor’s clutch.
A night or two after this encounter Geordie was surprised by a visit from Scotty.
‘Whatten a tale’s this ye’re spreadin’ aboot o’ yor showin’ yoor pansies as mine, I’d like to ken?’ demanded the intruder wrathfully.
Geordie looked up quietly from his book, and: ‘I’ve spread no tales aboot thoo or thy pansies,’ he replied.
‘Weel, it’s either thoo or that wee, impittent son o’ yoors, Tommy. Noo, I’ve been axin’ my missus aboot it, an’ she says she did gie ye my pansies to tak’ up to the show wi’ yoors; an’ what I want to be at is what i’ the deil’s name ye did to them.’
Geordie, in reply, exactly related what had occurred.
‘Then, wey didn’t ye tell us aboot it?’ demanded Scotty, still dissatisfied.
‘Because thoo has a tarr’ble sharp tongue i’ thy mouth, an’ I divvn’t want to be scandalized aboot the village as one who would sharp another for the sake o’ winnin’ a floo’er prize.’
‘Hum!’ ejaculated Scotty, ‘it’s an extraordinar’ thing this! But hoo can ye explain aboot the pansies, then? I’m pansy champion, an’ therefore thae pansies that win the prize mun ha’ been mine, yet here ye are sayin’ that they were yoors.’
Geordie got up from his seat, and, without immediately replying, went into the room at the back, and came forth again bearing in his arms a shattered green case.