e
baith equal to that ane, the teen maun be equal to the tither. A blind
bat cud see that wi' its een shut."

Sandy set himsel' up like's he'd pey'd a big account or something, an',
gien his heid a gey impident cock to the tae side, he says, "D'ye no'
see't?"

"See't?" says I, I says. "What wud bender's frae seein't? An' is
that what gomitry learns you?" says I.

"It is that," says Sandy. "That's the first exyem."

"Weel," says I, "it tak's a michty lang road to tell you what ony
three-'ear-auld bairn in the G-O goes cud tell you in a jiffy."

"Ah, but it's the mental dreel that's the vailable thing," says Sandy.
"It learns you to argey, d'ye no' see? If I had a glisk at gomitry for
a nicht or twa, an' got a puckle triangles an' parilelly grams into my
heid, I'll be fit to gie a scrieve on the watter question, or the
scaffies' wadges, that'll garr some o' oor Toon Cooncillers crook their
moos. Wait till you see!"

"Ay, Sandy," says I, "you'll go an' get the swine suppered an' your
ither jobs dune, an', gin ten o'clock were here, you'll get a coo's
drink, wi' plenty o' pepper in't, an' get to your bed. Thae
washin'-hoose argeymints are affectin' your nervous system, I'm
dootin'. Rin, noo, an' see an' stick in."

I raley thocht, mind you, the wey the cratur was haiverin', that he
wantit tippence i' the shillin'.

"I wad juist like you to hear ane o' oor debates, an' you'd cheenge
your opinion," says Sandy. "Bandy promised to tell's something the
morn's nicht aboot the postylate in gomitry. I juist wiss you heard
him."

"What wud there be to hear aboot that?" says I. "Oor ane's juist the
very same; he's near-hand aye late."

"Wha?" says Sandy, wi' a winderin' look in his e'e.

"Oor postie!" says I; "he's aye late. You'll of'en hear his whistle i'
the street when it's efter ten o'clock at nicht."

Sandy gaed shauchlin' oot at the door, chuck-chuck-chuckin' awa' till
himsel' like a clockin' hen, an' I didna see hint nor hair o' him for
mair than twa 'oors efter. But what cud ye expeck? That's juist aye
the wey o' thae men when they get the warst o't.

III.

SANDY AND THE DINNER BELL,

Crack aboot holidays! I tell you, I'd raither do a day's washin' an'
cleaning', ay, an' do the ironin' an' manglin' efter that, than face
anither holiday like what Sandy an' me had this week. Holiday! It's a
winder there wasna a special excursion comin' hame wi' Sandy's bur'al.
If that man's no' kill