“Sit in, Mr Dunshunner, sit in!” said Toddy Tam, in a tone of great cordiality, after I had effected my introduction. “Ye’ll no hae had your morning yet? Lass, bring in a clean glass for the gentleman.”
“I hope you will excuse me, Mr Gills. I really never do—”
“Hoots—nonsense! Ye maun be neighbour-like, ye ken—we a’ expect it at Dreepdaily.” And so saying, Toddy Tam poured me out a full glass of spirits. I had as lieve have swallowed ink, but I was forced to constrain myself and bolt it.
“Ay, and so ye are coming round to us as a candidate, are ye? What d’ye think o’ that, Mr Thamson—hae ye read Mr Dunshunner’s address?”
The rubicund individual chuckled, leered, and rose to go, but Toddy Tam laid a heavy hand upon his shoulder.
“Sit ye down man,” he said; “I’ve naething to say to Mr Dunshunner that the hail warld may not hear, nor him to me neither, I hope.”
“Certainly not,” said I; “and I really should feel it as a great obligation if Mr Thomson would be kind enough to remain.”
“That’s right, lad!” shouted Gills. “Nae hole-and-corner work for me! A’ fair and abune board, and the deil fly away with the Clique!”
Had Thomson been an ordinary man, he probably would have grown pale at this daring objurgation: as it was, he fidgetted in his chair, and his face became a shade more crimson.
“Weel, now,” continued Toddy Tam, “let us hear what Mr Dunshunner has got to say for himsel’. There’s naething like hearing opinions before we put ony questions.”