'But they're awfu' tasty.'
'Are they? . . . Weel, what dae ye dae if it bursts?'
'Never let bug.'
'Ay, but—but what aboot the cream?'
'Best cairry an extra hanky an' plug yer sleeve wi' it.'
After a dismal pause, Willie inquired: 'Could ye no get her to leave the cream cookies oot o' her programme, Macgreegor?'
Macgregor looked dubious. 'She's gey saft on them hersel', an' she micht be offendit if we refused them. Of course they dinna scoot up the sleeve every time.'
'Oh!'—more hopefully.
'Whiles they explode doon the waistcoat—I mean tunic.'
'That's enough!' wailed Willie. 'If the Clyde was handy, I wud gang an' droon masel'!'