“‘Then ye can ripe me,’ says her paw, and the wee tot’ll feel in a’ his pooches, and find half a sovereign in his waistcoat. They’ll let on it’s jist a bawbee (the wee thing never saw a rale bawbee in her life, I’ll warrant), and he’ll wonner whit wye he forgot aboot it, and tell her to keep it and buy jujubes wi’t, and she’ll be awa’ like a whitteruck and come back in a while wi’ her face a’ sticky for a kiss, jist like rale.
“Fine I ken the wee smouts; it was that wye wi’ oor ain Teenie.
“Other whiles she’ll hae a wee tin bank wi’ a bee-skep on’t, and she’ll hae’t fu’ o’ sovereigns her faither’s veesitors slip’t in her haund when they were gaun awa’, and she’ll put it on the mantelpiece and gang out. Then her paw’ll get up lauchin’ like onything to himsel’, and tak’ doon the wee bank and rattle awa’ at it, lettin’ on he’s robbin’t for a schooner o’ beer, and at that she’ll come rinnin’ in and catch him at it, and they’ll hae great fun wi’ that game. I have nae doot her faither and mither get mony a laugh at her playin’ at wee washin’s, too, and lettin’ on she’s fair trauchled aff the face o’ the earth wi’ a family o’ nine dolls, an’ three o’ them doon wi’ the hoopin’-cough. Oh! they’re no’ that bad aff for fine fun even in Skibo Castle.”
VIII A SON OF THE CITY
My old friend came daundering down the street with what might have been a bag of cherries, if cherries were in season, and what I surmised were really the twopenny pies with which Jinnet and he sometimes made the Saturday evenings festive. When we met he displayed a blue hyacinth in a flower-pot.
“Saw’t in a fruiterer’s window,” said he, “and took the notion. Ninepence; dod! I dinna ken hoo they mak’ them for the money. I thocht it wad please the wife, and min’ her o’ Dunoon and the Lairgs and a’ thae places that’s doon the watter in the summer-time.
“Ye may say whit ye like, I’m shair they shut up a’ thae coast toons when us bonny wee Gleska buddies is no’ comin’ doon wi’ oor tin boxes, and cheerin’ them up wi’ a clog-wallop on the quay.
“It’s a fine thing a flooer; no’ dear to buy at the start, and chaper to keep than a canary. It’s Nature—the Rale Oreeginal. Ninepence! And the smell o’t! Jist a fair phenomena!”