"And mine," said Cleg Kelly, taking off his stemmed bonnet as politely, "is Cleg Kelly o' the Sooth Back o' the Canongate, and late o' Callendar's Yaird!"
The General bowed ceremoniously.
"And now," he said, "what do you propose to do about my railway ticket?"
"I'll work it out!" said Cleg, quickly.
There was something in "the looks of the starchy old geeser" (as Cleg remarked to himself) which the boy rather liked, though without doubt he was mad as a hatter.
"Work it out," cried the General; "what can you do?"
"Anything!" said Cleg. (It was his one touch of his father's dialect that he still said "annything.")
"That's nothing!" said the General.
"Wait till you see," retorted Cleg. "You try me. I'm nae country gawk, but reared in the heart o' the toon. I can rin errands. I can howk[8] yairds for taties—or," he added, thinking of his flower-garden round the old construction hut, "for flooers. And if I dinna ken the way to do onything, I can find oot."
The General appeared to consider.