“It was michty hurried,” said Sam’l wofully.
“It’s a serious thing to speer a lassie,” said Sanders.
“It’s an awfu’ thing,” said Sam’l.
“But we’ll hope for the best,” added Sanders, in a hopeless voice.
They were close to the tenements now, and Sam’l looked as if he were on his way to be hanged.
“Sam’l!”
“Ay, Sanders.”
“Did ye—did ye kiss her, Sam’l?”
“Na.”
“Hoo?”