Cleg Kelly stood up with the teapot in his hand, taking care to keep the lid on as he did so. His life was so constant a succession of surprises provided against by watchfulness that hardly even an earthquake would have taken him unprepared.
He balanced the teapot in one hand, and with the other he pulled at his hat-brim to make his manners.
"If ye please, sir," he said, "they turned me oot at the brickyaird, and I brocht the bits o' things here. I kenned ye wadna send me away, Maister Callendar."
"How kenned ye that I wadna turn ye away, boy?" said the builder.
"Oh, I juist prefarred to come back here, at ony rate," said Cleg.
"But why?" persisted Mr. Callendar.
Cleg scratched the turned-up earth of his garden thoughtfully with his toe.
"Weel," he said, "if ye maun ken, it was because I had raither lippen[2] to the deil I ken than to the deil I dinna ken!"
The builder laughed good-naturedly.