'Maybe I wud,' Macgregor sympathetically admitted.
'But ye couldna droon her in twa hauf pints. Ach, I'm fed up wi' her. She startit yatterin' at me the nicht because I askit her for saxpence; so at last I tell't her I wud suner jine Kitchener's nor see her ugly face for anither week.'
'What did she say?'
'Said it was the first guid notion ever I had.'
'Weel,' said Macgregor eagerly, after a slight pause, 'since ye're for enlistin', ye'd best dae it the nicht, Wullie.'
'I suppose I micht as weel jine your lot,' said Willie, carelessly.
Macgregor drew himself up. 'The 9th H.L.I, doesna accep' onything that offers.'
'I'm as guid as you—an' I'm bigger nor you.'
'Ye're bigger, but ye're peely-wally. Still, Wullie, I wud like fine to see ye in ma company.'
'Ye've a neck on ye! Your company! . . . Aweel, come on an' see me dae it.'