This was scarcely what Tammas had expected. Hendry was usually one of his most devoted admirers. There was an awkward silence, which made me feel uncomfortable. I am only a poor Dominie, but some of my happiest hours had been passed on the pig-sty. Were these merry meetings to come to an end? Pete took up the talking.
“Hendry, my man,” he observed, as he helped himself out of Tammas’s snuff-mull, “ye’re ower kyow-owy. Ye ken humour’s a thing ’at spouts out o’ its ain accord, an’ there’s no nae spouter in Thrums ’at can match wi’ Tammas.”
A VESTED INTEREST
Bystander (to excited Scot, whose friend had been run over). “Not a near relative, I hope, sir.”
Scot. “Na—but—he has on a pair of ma breeks!”
He looked defiantly at Hendry, who was engaged in searching for coppers in his north-east-by-east-trouser pocket. T’nowhead said nothing, and Hookey was similarly occupied. At last, the stranger spoke.
“Gentlemen,” he began, “may I say a word? I may lay claim to some experience in the matter. I travel in humour, and generally manage to do a large business.”
He looked round interrogatively. Tammas eyed him with one of his keen glances. Then he worked his mouth round and round to clear the course for a sarcasm.