"Pa has three dozen of 'em," said Charlotte with pride, "'cos of the trouble of getting 'em washed when he goes about so much. I think, though, you lose 'em on the road, pa."
"It's a silly thought that's like ye," returned her parent shortly. "Young leddy, what dae ye mak' it?".
"There are only thirty-three here," replied Mary, struggling with a laugh, "and—-and one is thirty-four!"
"Thirty-three," exclaimed Mr. Macpherson, "and are is thirty-four! Twa shirts missin', twa shirts at five and saxpence apiece wasted—lost through repreheensible carelessness!" He sat down on the box by his wife's side, and contemplated her severely. "Aweel," he said at last, sociable under difficulties, "an' Collins was agreeable, ye tell me?"
"He was very nice indeed."
"Hoh!" he sighed, "ye will na mak' a penny by it. But the pursuit may serve tae occupy ye!"
"Not make a penny by it?" she ejaculated.
"Don't you mind him," said his partner; "he's got the 'ump, that's what's the matter with him!"
"It may serve tae occupy your mind," repeated Mr. Macpherson funereally; "'tis pleasant walkin' in the fine weather. Now mind ye, 'oman, I dinna leave withoot ma twa shirts. I canna banish them frae ma memory."
"Bless and save us, James, haven't I rummaged every drawer in the place?"