“‘There’s naething dirtier nor a dirty Gleska man,’ said yin o’ them to me ae day.
“‘There is,’ says I.
“‘Whit?’ says he.
“‘Twa clean Edinburgh yins,’ says I.
“Och! but I’m only in fun. Edinburgh’s a’ richt; there’s naething wrang wi’ the place ance ye’re in it if ye hae a book to read. I hate to hear the wye Duffy and some o’ them speak aboot Edinburgh, the same as if it was shut up a’thegither; hoo wad we like it oorsels? I hae maybe a flet fit, but I hae a warm hert, and I’ll aye stick up for Edinburgh. I had an uncle that near got the jyle there for running ower yin o’ their tramway caurs. They’ve no skoosh cars in Edinburgh; they’re thon ither kin’ that’s pu’ed wi’ a rope, and whiles the rope breaks; but it doesna maitter, naebody’s in ony hurry gaun to ony place in Edinburgh, and the passengers jist sit where they are till it’s mended.”
“Well, anyhow, Erchie, we’re glad to see you back,” I said.
“Gled to see me back!” he cried. “I’ll wager ye didna ken I was awa’, and the only folk that kent we werena in Gleska for the past twa or three months was the dairy and the wee shop we get oor vegetables frae.
“When I was in Edinburgh yonder, skliffin’ alang the streets as fast’s I could, and nippin’ mysel’ every noo and them to keep mysel’ frae fa’in’ asleep, I wad be thinkin’ to mysel’, ‘Hoo are they gettin’ on in Gleska wantin’ Erchie MacPherson? Noo that they’ve lost me, they’ll ken the worth o’ me.’ I made shair that, at least, the skoosh cars wad hae to stop runnin’ when I was awa’, and that the polis band wad come doon to the station to meet me when I cam’ hame.
“Dod! ye wad hardly believe it, but ever since I cam’ back I meet naebody but folk that never ken’t I was awa’. It’s a gey hertless place Gleska that way. Noo, in Edinburgh it’s different. They’re gey sweart to lose ye in Edinburgh ance they get haud o’ ye; that’s the way they keep up the price o’ the railway ticket to Gleska.
“I was tellin’ Duffy aboot Edinburgh, and he’s gaun through wi’ a trip to see’t on Monday. It’ll be a puir holiday for the cratur, but let him jist tak’ it. He’ll be better there than wastin’ his money in a toon. When Duffy goes onywhere on ony o’ the Gleska holidays, it’s generally to Airdrie, or Coatbrig, or Clydebank he goes, and walks aboot the streets till the polis put him on the last train hame for Gleska, and him singin’ ‘Dark Lochnagar’ wi’ the tears in his een.