cam across. He cam' thrash doon on the kribstane there i' the noo,
an' when I ran anower to see if he was ony waur, he juist gae me
impidence, an' said he cud come doon aff his cairt ony wey he liket.
Did you ever hear the like?"

"He's a queer chield, Sandy," said Stumpie. "There's some folk thinks
he wants tippence i' the shillin', but it's my opinion there's aboot
fourteenpence i' the shillin' o' him. He's auld wecht; mind I tell
you."

That's exactly my ain opinion, d'ye ken; an' it akinda astonished me to
hear Stumpie speakin' sense for ance in's life. He's uswally juist a
haverin' doit.

But that's no' what I was genna tell you aboot. Sandy and Bandy
Wobster have had a terriple fortnicht's colligin' thegither. Every
ither nicht they've been ether i' the washin'-hoose or i' the garret;
an' Sandy's been gaen aboot scorin' a' the doors wi' kauk, an' makin'
rings an' lines like railroads an' so on a' ower them.

"What's this you an' Bandy's up till noo?" I says to Sandy the ither
mornin', juist when we were sittin' at oor brakfast. "I howp noo,
Sandy," I says, says I, "that you'll keep clear o' the eediotikal
pliskies you played lest winter."

"You can wadger your henmist bodle on that," says Sandy, as he took a
rive ooten a penny lafe. "There's to be ither kind o' wark on this
winter. Bandy an' me's been busy at the gomitry. Man, Bawbie, it's
raley very interestin'. You mind I spak to you aboot some o' the
triangles an' things that it tells you aboot afore?"

"Weel, look here, Sandy," I says, "I notice you've been scorin' every
door aboot the place wi' your triangles, an' they're juist the very
shape o' the ane Ekky Hebbirn played in the flute band; an', as I
tolled you afore, I'm no' to hae ane o' them aboot the hoose. Preserve
me, man, you'll get as muckle music oot o' the taings, an' mair."

"Keep on your dicky, 'oman," says Sandy. "You're clean aff the scent
a'thegither. There's nae music aboot gomitry triangles ava. They've
naething to do wi' music. They're for measurin' an' argeyin' oot
things till a conclusion. Flute bands! Sic a blether o' nonsense. I
maun lat you see the triangle book. We was haen a bit rin ower the
exyems again lest nicht juist. Noo, juist to gie you an idea, Bawbie!
You mind I tell'd you the exyem aboot things bein' equal to ane anither
when they're equal to some ither thing that's equal to the things that
are equal to ane anither?"

"I mind aboot you haiveri