"'Certainly, sir,' said he, 'you know that follows as a matter of course.'
"'Yes, sir,' continued I, 'and I have found that it sometimes follows also as a matter o' coercion! I never had to do wi' what ye call a bill in my life but once, which was merely writing my name upon the back o't, and that cost me three hundred pounds—exactly sixteen pounds, two shillings and threepence, and a fraction, for every letter in the name of Nicholas Middlemiss, as my wife has often told me. Therefore, sir, I would never wish to see the face o' a bill again; or, I should say, the back o' one.'
"'But, my good sir,' said the gentleman, 'I have told you that it is not convenient for me to give you the cash just now; and, if you won't take my bill, why, what do you wish me to do? Do you intend to affront me? Do you suppose I have nothing to attend to but your account?'
"'Oh, by no means, sir,' said I; 'and it would be the last thing in my thoughts either to offend you or ony man. If ye have not the money at command, I suppose I must take the bill; for I know that cash down is a sort o' curiosity, as I sometimes say, and is very difficult to be met wi'.'
"While we were conversing thegither, I heard my wife gie a tap, tap, tap, twice or thrice upon the parlour door, and I was convinced that she owreheard us; but I didna take the least notice o' it, for I felt conscious that it would only be to ring the auld sang in my ears, about the simple man. So I took the gentleman's bill at six months; and immediately after he left me, Nancy came into the parlour.
"'Weel,' said she, 'ye've gotten your money.' But she said it wi' a scornful air, such as I had never seen her use before, and which caused me to feel excessively uncomfortable.
"'Yes, I've got my money,' says I, 'but, dear me, Nancy, what business is it o' yours whether I have got my money or no?'
"'If it isna my business, Nicholas,' said she, 'I would like to ken whase business it is? I am the wife o' your bosom—the mother o' your family—am I not? Guidman, ye may take ill what I say to ye, but it is meant for your good. Now, ye hae ta'en the bill o' the man that has just left ye, for four hundred and odd pounds! What do ye ken aboot him? Naething!—naething in the blessed world! Ye are a simple man, Nicholas!'
"'Dinna say that,' said I; 'I am not simple. I told him to his face that I didna like his bills. But ye are like a' women—ye would do wonders if ye were men! But his bill prevents a' disputes about his account—do ye not see that—and I can cash it if I wish.'
"'Very true,' said she, 'ye can cash it, Nicholas, but upon your own credit, and at your own risk.'