Sandy had a gey efternune o't. He was
steerin' aboot, carryin' in soap boxes for seats to the bairns, an'
learnin' up his leed aboot the pictures, an' orderin' aboot Nathan; ye
never heard the like! I heard him yatterin' awa' till himsel' i' the
back shop, "The great battle o' Waterloo was fochen in echteen fifteen
atween the English an' the French, an' Bloocher landit on the scene
juist as Wellinton was gien the order--Tuts, ye stupid blockheid,
Nathan, that saft-soap barrel disna gae there--'Up gairds an' at
them.'" He gaed on like this for the feck o' the efternune, an' even
in the middle o' his tea, when I speered if it was het eneuch, he
lookit at me akinda ravelled like, and says, "Although ye was startin'
for that star the day you was born, stride-legs on a cannon ball, ye
wudna be there till ye was mair than ninety 'ear auld."

"Wha's speakin' aboot stars?" says I; "I'm speerin' if your tea's het
eneuch?"

"O, ay, yea, I daursay; it's a' richt," says Sandy. "I was mindin'
aboot Sirias, the nearest fixed star, ye ken. I winder what it's fixed
wi'?"

Seven o'clock cam' roond, an' Dauvid's bairns gaed throo oor entry
like's they'd startit for Sandy's fixed star. They wudda gane through
the washin'-hoose door if it hadna happened to be open. I had
forgotten aboot them at the time; but, keep me, when they cam' oot o'
Dauvid's efter their tea, I floo to the door. I thocht it was somebody
run ower.

Sandy had on his sirtoo an' his lum gin this time, an' he was gaen
about makin' a terriple noise, blawin' his nose in his Sabbath hankie,
an' lookin', haud your tongue, juist as big's bull beef. He gaed into
the washin'-hoose to cowshin the laddies, for they were makin' a
terriple din.

"Now, boys an' loons--an' lassies, I mean," says Sandy, "there must be
total nae noise ava, or the magic lantern 'ill no wirk."

"Hooreh! Time's up!" roared a' the laddies thegither; an' they
whistled, an' kickit wi' their feet till you wudda thocht they wud haen
my gude soap boxes ca'd a' to crockineeshin.

Dauvid appeared to tak' the whole thing as a maitter o' coorse, an'
when I speered if this was juist their uswal, "Tuts ay," says he, "it's
juist the loons in the exoobrians o' their speerits, d'ye know, d'ye
see."

Thinks I to mysel', thinks I, I wud tak' some o' that exoobrians oot o'
them, gin I had a fortnicht o' them. A Sabbath class! It was mair
like a half-timers' fitba' club. But, of coorse, it's no' ilka