ey queer wey o' speakin'. "I hinna very
muckle to say, you ken," says he, "an' konsequently, I'll no' say very
muckle."

"Hear, hear," roared Watty Finlay.

"The Toon Cooncil elections is leemin' in the distance," continued
Bandy, "an', as ceetizens o' the Breetish Empyre, we maun look oot for
fit an' proper persons to reprisent the opinions o' the democracy in
the Hoose o'--in the Toon Hoose, an' on the Police Commission.
Gentlemen----"

This garred a' the billies sit back in their seats, an' dicht their
moos wi' their jeckit sleeves, an' host. Watty Finlay nearhand cowpit
ower the bucket he was sittin' on; but he got his balance again, an'
sayin', "Ay, man," heich oot, he got a' richt sattled doon again.

"Gentlemen," says Bandy, "the time for action draws at hand. Oor
watter is no fit for ki drinking; an' there's fient a thing but watter
in the weet dock. My heart bleeds when I go roond the shore an' see
all the ships sailin' oot o' the herbir, an' no' a livin' sowl comin'
in. Gentlemen, that herbir's growin' a gijantic white elephant."

"An' so's the Watter Toor, an' the Lifeboat too," roared Dauvid Kenawee.

"The toon's foo o' white elephants, a' colours," said Moses Certricht.
"The Toon Cooncil's made it juist like a wild beast show."

"Hear, hear," cried the whole lot; an' Stumpie Mertin, gettin' a little
excited, roared "Order," an' set them a' a-lauchin'.

"Gentlemen," said Bandy again, "it's as plen's a pikestaff that a' oor
municeepal affairs is clean gaen to the deevil a'thegither; an' I have
much pleasure----"

"Hear, hear," said Watty Finlay, "he's the very man." There was a bit
lauch at this, an' Watty added, "I mean Sandy, of coorse--no' the
deevil 'at Bandy was speakin' aboot."

"I was genna say," said Bandy, "when I was interrupit by the honourable
gentleman----"

"O, gie's a rest," said Watty; an' Bandy had to begin again.

"I was genna say," he said, "that we maun get a hand o' a puckle men o'
abeelity an' straucht-forritness, an' I have much pleasure in proposin'
a vote of thanks to oor worthy freend, Mester Bowden, for comin' forrit
to abolish the Toon Cooncil o' every rissim o' imposeeshin, till
taxation shall vanish into oblivion, an' be a thing o' the past.
Mester Bowden is a man----"

"Hear, hear," says Watty again.

"Mester Bowden is a man that will never do onything----"

"Hear, hear," Watty stricks in again. He juist yatter-yattered awa'
like a parrot a' the time.