"An' I'm sure thae puir bairns hae had their share o't," said Muckle Alick.
"I suppose," said Mistress Fraser, as she prepared to take her leave, "that ye canna keep your thumb on the joke aboot the twa laddies and a lassie. Na, it's no to be expected o' you, Mirren. It's ower guid a tale to tell, specially on me, that aye prided mysel' on letting naebody draw my leg. But ye did me to richts this time, ye great stirk—to bring me fleein' ower here wi' my coaties kilted as if I had the back-door trot, a' to see three newly-come-hame bairns, and the auldest o' them near woman muckle. And the loon that gaed me the cheat an elder o' the kirk! Sorrow till ye, Alick, but I could find it in my heart to clour your lugs even yet."
"Ye hae my richt guidwull," said Mirren, encouragingly.
But Muckle Alick only laughed. Then Tam Fraser came in seeking his wife.
"I hae been hearin' a' aboot your daft ploy, rinnin' in front o' the engine and gettin' dunted oot o' the road," said he. "Some folk was threepin' that it was awesome brave o' ye, but I think it was juist a daft, rackless triflin' wi' Providence. That's my thocht on't."
"What was that? I hae heard tell o' it for the first time," said Mirren. "But that's nae new thing in this hoose. Alick's married wife is aye the last to hear o' his daft-like doin's."
"O, nocht very special this time," said Tam Fraser. "He only threw a hundred and six Irish drovers oot o' a third story window ower the engine o' the Port express, but there's nae mair than ten o' them dead. And then he louped in front on an engine gaun at full speed and to draw some bairns frae below the wheels," said Tam Fraser, giving the local version, corrected to date.
"Is this true?" said his wife severely, fixing her eyes upon Alick with a curious expression in them.
"There's juist aboot as muckle truth in it as there is in maist Netherby stories for common, after they hae gotten ten minutes' start," said Muckle Alick.
"What is your version o't?" said his wife, never taking her eyes off her husband.