"Would ye be wanting my services, sir?"
"What services in a' the world can ye render, auld carle?" says I.
"I'm the man that marries the folk," says he; "my name's Peter Moodie."
"And what do you seek for your marriage-service?" says I.
"Three half-crowns frae working-folk, and a guinea frae the like o' you, sir," says he.
"There's a crown-piece, my guid fellow," says I, "and let me see you go owre the foolery—for the very fun o' the thing."
"Do, do, Peter!" cried the youngest Cochrane and her cousin, eagerly.
"Wha shall I buckle, then?" says the mimicking priest.
"Our two selves," says I, pressing Miss Cochrane's hand, in maudlin fondness.
"What's your name, sir?" says the white-headed impostor, looking me gravely in the face.