Chapter II

As I said, we were all on the pig-sty. Of the _habitués_ I scarcely need to speak to you, since you must know their names, even if you fail to pronounce them. But there was a stranger amongst us, a stranger who, it was said, had come from London. Yesterday when I went ben the house I found him sitting with Jess; to-day, he, too, was sitting with us on the pig-sty. There were tales told about him, that he wrote for papers in London, and stuffed his vases and his pillows with money, but Tammas Haggart only shook his head at what he called “such auld fowks’ yeppins,” and evidently didn’t believe a single word. Now Tammas, you must know, was our humorist. It was not without difficulty that Tammas had attained to this position, and he was resolved to keep it. Possibly he scented in the stranger a rival humorist whom he would have to crush. At any rate, his greeting was not marked with the usual genial cordiality characteristic of Scots weavers, and many were the anxious looks exchanged amongst us, as we watched the preparations for the impending conflict.

_The “Macwhuskey.”_ “Weel, my braw wee English laddie! Here have I come a’ the way to London to veesit y’r guid feyther and mither, that brought ye with ’em to see me in Thrumnitrochit last year--where ye rode a cockhorse on my knee! D’ye _mind_ me, noo?”

_The Braw Wee English Laddie._ “Oh no--_I_ don’t mind you--not a bit. It’s _papa and mamma_!”]

_First Gael (just come ashore from the Herrin’ Fushin’)_ “Hoo’s a’ wi’ you, Donal’? Hae ye ony news yonder?”

_Second Gael._ “Na, I hear naething,--oo, aye,--they were sayin’ Mac Callum Mohr’s son’s goin’ to get marri’t!”

_First Gael._ “Ay! ay! An’ wha’s he goin’ to get marri’t on?”

_Second Gael._ “Ye ken the Queen--e-ch?”

_First Gael._ “Ay--I ken the Queen.”

_Second Gael._ “A--weel, it’s on her young dochter he’s goin’ to get marri’t.”

_First Gael._ “E--ch! Dod! the Queen mun be the _prood woman_!!!”]

_M‘Phusky (Scots Partner)._ “Any war news this morning, Brown?”

_Brown (English ditto)._ “Well, freights are low, money seems to be tight, and consols have fallen two----”

_M‘Phusky._ “Na, but war news, I mean.”

_Brown (risking the operation)._ “Well, you wouldn’t wish to hear _waur_ news than that, would you?”]

_Fond Father._ “I see ye’ve put my son intil graummer an’ jography. Noo, as I neither mean him tae be a minister or a sea-captain, it’s o’ nae use. Gie him a plain bizness eddication.”]

_Scots Cook._ “Whisht! There’s master whustlin’ o’ the Saubath! Losh save us! an’ ‘Maggie Lauder,’ too!”]