, referring to sarcasm, "she's no a critter to force. Ye
maun lat her tak her ain time. Sometimes she's dry like the pump, an'
syne, again, oot she comes in a gush." The most sarcastic thing the
stone-breaker ever said was frequently marvelled over in Thrums, both
before and behind his face, but unfortunately no one could ever
remember what it was. The subject, however, was Cha Tamson's potato
pit. There is little doubt that it was a fit of sarcasm that induced
Tammas to marry a gypsy lassie. Mr. Byars would not join them, so
Tammas had himself married by Jimmy Pawse, the gay little gypsy king,
and after that the minister re-married them. The marriage over the
tongs is a thing to scandalise any well-brought-up person, for before
he joined the couple's hands, Jimmy jumped about in a startling way,
uttering wild gibberish, and after the ceremony was over there was
rough work, with incantations and blowing on pipes. Tammas always held
that this marriage turned out better than he had expected, though he
had his trials like other married men. Among them was Chirsty's way of
climbing on to the dresser to get at the higher part of the plate-rack.
One evening I called in to have a smoke with the stone-breaker, and
while we were talking Chirsty climbed the dresser. The next moment she
was on the floor on her back, wailing, but Tammas smoked on
imperturbably. "Do you not see what has happened, man?" I cried.
"Ou," said Tammas, "she's aye fa'in aff the dresser."

Of the schoolmasters who were at times members of the club, Mr. Dickie
was the ripest scholar, but my predecessor at the school-house had a
way of sneering at him that was as good as sarcasm. When they were on
their legs at the same time, asking each other passionately to be calm,
and rolling out lines from Homer, that made the inn-keeper look
fearfully to the fastenings of the door, their heads very nearly came
together although the table was between them. The old dominie had an
advantage in being the shorter man, for he could hammer on the table as
he spoke, while gaunt Mr. Dickie had to stoop to it. Mr. McRittie's
arguments were a series of nails that he knocked into the table, and he
did it in a workmanlike manner. Mr. Dickie, though he kept firm on his
feet, swayed his body until by and by his head was rotating in a large
circle. The mathematical figure he made was a cone revolving on its
apex. Gavin's reinstalment in the chair year after year was mad