"Deuced odd, Donald, I can't get a fish over seven pounds, when they say Major Grant above us killed half a dozen last week that turned twenty pounds apiece!"
Donald. "Aweel, sir, it's no that muckle odds i'th' sawmon,—but thae fowk up the watter is bigger leears than we are doon here!"
"One Good Turn," etc.—City Man (to one of his clerks he finds fishing in his ornamental water). "Look here, Smithers, I've no objection to giving you a day now and then 'to attend your aunt's funeral'—but I think you might send some of the fish up to the house!"
