"Peece, vile slave, or I'll dekappytate ye wi' my skittimir," says Sandy, glowerin' at Stumpie.
"He thinks he's the Shaw o' Persha," says Bandy, fingerin' awa' amon' Sandy's hair.
Here Sandy took to the greetin', an' grat something fearfu'.
"Bliss me," says Dauvid Kenawee, "I never saw the like o' that. Is he ac'ually sleepin'?"
"As soond's a tap," says Bandy, an' he touched Sandy again an' stoppit the greetin'. "Noo, we'll see what like a job he wud mak' o' a speech at a ward meetin'," continued Bandy; an' he gae Sandy a slap on the shuder an' says, "Noo, Mester Bowden, we're at a ward meetin', an' you're stanin' for the Cooncil. There's Pottie Lawson in the chair, an' it's your turn to speak noo. Lat's hear ye gie them a gude screed on the topiks of the day."
Sandy gae a bit hauch, an' swallowed a spittal, an' stappin' forrit a bittie, began—"Mester Chairman——" He gae Pottie a glower that nearhand knokit him aff the box he was sittin' on. "Mester Chairman," says he, "we are gaithered thegither to meet wan anither as fella ratepayers. If you want a tip-top cooncillor, I'm your man. Regairdin' this noo kirkyaird bisness, I think it's ridic'lous to spend the toon's bawbees buyin' buryin' grund for fowk that's no' deid. Time eneuch to look oot for buryin' grund when fowk's deid. An' lat fowk bury themsel's, juist as they like. Lat them look oot for their ain grund, an' no' bather the ratepeyers lookin' oot grund for them. We'll hae to get oor brakfast frae the Toon Cooncil by an' by, an' it'll a' go on the rates, that's juist as fac's ocht. A' thing's on' the rates nooadays, frae births to burals. But I hear wan of my audience cry, 'What aboot the Auld Kirk?' Weel, that's anither question. I think that the shuner the Auld Kirk's aff the pairis the better. We've plenty paupirs withoot it. If it canna do withoot parokial relief, lat it into the puirhoose. That's what they wud do wi' you an' me if we was needin' on the pairis. What d'ye think o' that? Then there's the toon's wall an' the herbir. Weel, there's no muckle in ony o' them. There's hardly ony watter i' the teen, an' there's naething but watter i' the tither. But mibby if there was a noo licence or twa doon aboot the shore, there micht be mair traffik i' the herbir. The trustees wud mibby need to chairge shore dues on lads 'at was landit on the kee noo-an'-than. They cud be shedild as live stock, altho' they were half-deid wi' drink an' droonin' thegither. An' noo a wird or twa aboot——"
Bandy touched Sandy here, an' he stoppit, an' a' the lads clappit their hands.
Then Bandy gae Sandy a touch here an' there, an' ye never saw the like. He ate a penny can'le, an' drank half a bottle o' ink, an' I cudna tell ye a' what. The billies lookit as gin they were gettin' terrifeed at Sandy, when I noticed him gie Bandy a bit wink on the sly; an' I saw syne that Sandy was nae mair mismirized than I was.
"There's neen o' ye here 'at Sandy has ony ill-will at," says Bandy; "we'll see what like his fechtin' bump wirks." Wi' that he gae him a touch ahent the lug, an' Sandy was layin' aboot him in a wink. "Dinna touch him, or he'll mittal some o' ye," says Bandy; an' the billies a' cleared awa' to the ither end o' the washin'-hoose.
A' o' a sudden Sandy grippit an' auld roosty hewk that was lyin' on the boiler, an' roarin', "Whaur's Pottie Lawson, an' I'll cut his wizand till him," he made a flee at the door. You never saw sic a scramblin' an' fleein'. Stumpie Merlin dived in ablo the sofa, an' Dauvid Kenawee jumpit up on the boiler, an' aff wi' the lid for a shield. Pottie was gaen bang oot at the door when Sandy grippit him by the cuff o' the neck. But Pottie sprang oot o' the coat—it wasna ill to get ooten, puir chield—an' doon the yaird a' he cud flee, wi' Sandy at his tail, whirlin' the hewk roond his heid, an' skreechin' like the very mischief. Bandy an' a' the rest cam' fleein' efter Sandy. Pottie took the yaird dyke at ae loup, an' landit richt on Mistress Mollison's back, an' sent her bung into the middle o' a lot o' Jacob's ledder 'at she has growin' in her yaird. She gaed clean oot o' sicht, an' juist lay an' roared till her man cam' oot an' helpit her into the hoose.