fechtin' a'thegither.
An' faigs, Sandy snoddit him geylies afore we got to Dundee.

There was a lot o' men' an' loons staiverin' aboot Carnoustie playin'
at the gowf; an' Sandy says--"Look at thae jumpin'-jecks o' craturs wi'
their reed jeckets on, like as mony organ-grinders' monkeys, rinnin'
aboot wi' their bits o' sticks, wallopin' awa' at Indeen-rubber ba's.
Puir craturs!"

Man, the chappie wi' the nickerbuckers got up in an awfu' pavey, an'
misca'ed Sandy for a' the vagues--you never heard the like!

"Look ye hear, my bit birkie," says Sandy, gien a gey wild-like wink
wi' his richt e'e, "you speak when ye're spoken till! I dinna bather
mysel' wi' paper-mashie peeriewinkles like the likes o' you; but if you
gi'e me ony o' your sma' chat, man, I'll tak' an' thrapple you wi' that
fowerpence-happeny-the-dizzen paper collar ye've roond the wizand o'
ye."

"Wud ye?" said the Carnoustie birkie, jumpin' till his feet.

The train gae a shoag juist at that meenit, an' he gaed doit ower on
the tap o' Sandy, and brocht a tin box doish doon on his heid. He got
a gey tnap, I can tell you. Sandy keepit his temper something
winderfu', an' he juist quietly set doon Nickerbucker Tammie on the
seat an' says, "Ay, loonie; juist you sit still there till your mither
gie's your nose a dicht, an' ties your gartins; an' you'll get a piece
an' jeely on't when the trainie stops."

You never heard sic lauchin' as there was; an' Sandy's frien' lookit as
gin he'd haen a dram, an' gotten an awfu' dose o' cauld. He didna say
"guid-mornin'" when he gaed oot at the Toy Brig Station.

Sandy had twa-three mair pliskies atween Dundee an' Edinboro, but I
hinna time to tell you o' them. Peety the man that starts to write
Sandy's beebliographie. If he tells the hale truth, eksettera, he'll
hae a gey job. The faimly Bible 'ill be like a heym-book aside the
volum. They'll need to get up early i' the mornin' that reads Sandy's
life, I tell you. The man that writes it 'ill never win to his bed ava.

Weel-a-weel, we landit at Edinboro, an Meg was waitin's, an' as mony
bairns wi' her as wudda startit a raggit schule--although they were a'
braw an' snod, I ashure ye.

"Keep me, Meg," said Sandy, efter he'd shaken hands wi' her, "is thae
a' your litlans? Dod, sic a cleckin!"

The ass that he is! I saw Meg chowl her chafts gey angry like, an' I
took Sandy a doish i' the back wi' my umberell. "Say Mistress Blair,
ye ill-mennered whaup atya