loonikie, your exyems may do amon' your triangles an' sic like
fyke-facks an' kyowows, but they're a' blethers you see brawly ony
ither wey."

What a raise Sandy got intil! He was that kankered that he took twa or
three ill-natured rives o' a shreed o' breed, an' a gullar o' tea, an'
fair stankit himsel'. It gaed doon the wrang road, an' Sandy was
nearhand chokit.

"Sairs me richt for argey-bargeyin' wi' a doited cratur that canna see
a thing that's as plen's a pikestaff," he says, efter he had gotten his
nose blawn. Syne he cowshined doon a bittie, an' says, wi' a bit
snicker o' a lauch, "I maun hae you tried wi' the pond's ass anowerim."

"An wha micht he be?" says I.

"That's the fift proposition, Bawbie," says Sandy. "It's ca'ed the
pond's ass anowerim. That's Latin for the cuddy's brig. If you canna
get ower't, you're set down for an ass."

"Have you been ower't, Sandy?" I says, says I.

"No' yet," he says, never lattin' wink that he noticed the dab I had at
him; "but I'm beginnin' to see throo't, I think. Gin I had anither
glisk or twa at her I'll be on the richt side o' her, I'se wadger."

Fient a glint o' sense cud I see in Sandy's palaver; so I says, says
I--"What is this fift proposition you're haiverin' aboot?"

"Weel, it's juist this," says Sandy; an' he began to mak' a lot o'
fairlies wi' his finger amon' the floor aff the rows on the table.
"Look sae, there's what ye ca' a soshilist triangle. Weel, you see the
twa corners at the doon end o' her hare? They're juist the very
marrows o' ane anither; an' if you cairry the lines at the side o' them
here a bit farrer doon, an' get in ablo the boddam o' the triangle,
ye'll find that the corners aneth the boddam are juist the very marrows
o' ane anither too. D'ye see?"

"Ay, Sandy," I says, says I, "you'll better awa' an get Donal' yokit.
I dinna ken what use thae soshilist triangles an' ither feelimageeries
like hen's taes are genna be to you, but I howp they'll no' be learnin'
ye to gie fowk jimp wecht, or it'll juist be the ruin o' your trade.
I've nae objections to you haein' a hobby; but shurely you cud get a
better ane gin a lot o' thae blethers o' Bandy Wobster's. Get ane o'
thae snap-traps, or whativer ye ca' them, for takin' photographs; get
on for the fire brigade or the lifeboat, join the Rifles or something.
There wud be some sense in the like o' that. But fykin' an' scutterin'
awa' amon' exyems, as you ca' them, an' triangles, a