dram afore drawin' in to the tea. She wis unco cracky for
a while, but efter we had puttin’ a guid wheen o’ things
through hands, I saw the woman had something on her mind.
I didna’ hurry her, but speert on an’ on in a general sort o’ wye,
till at last I asked for Mrs. Whangy, wife o’ the leather tanner
in Shuttle Street. At this the body wis sair owercome. I do
believe if I hadna’ just gien her anither thimlefu’ o’ speerits at
the time she might hae gane awa’ in a dwam. Hooever I gied
her time to draw her breath.
“ Deed, Mrs. Warnock,” I said quite cheery-like, “ ye may say on, for that wumman an’ me never were great freen’s.” “ Ye may weel say’t,” quoth she, “ an’ had ye no pressed me I never wud hae opened my lips on the subject, I’m sure; but efter what the limmer said aboot ye, I think ye canna coont on Mrs. Whangy as a freen’.”
“ She wis aye a brazen-faced randy,” said I, somewhat excited beforehand, “ ye needna’ fear to tell onything that she may have said, Mrs. Warnock, for it’ll no* put me ae bit aboot.”
“Weel, ye see, this maitter o’ the bursary, or whatever ye ca’ it, had won to her ears, an’ she comes doon to the shop to order a dizzen cookies. She aye insists on a.penny to the shillin’. Her mither, ye ken, keepit a wee victualling shoppie i’ the Calton, an’ she minded the custom. When she had payed her sixpence and asked the thirteen cookies to be sent hame, she glowered through her gowd glesses unco kennin’-like, an’ said, ‘Ye’ll no’ hae heard o’ this new move o’ Martha Spreull’s ? ’ ‘ No,’ said I, quite innocent, ‘ I havena heard frae Miss Spreull since she flittit to the West-en’.’ ‘ Oh,’ quoth she, ‘Martha’s a great wumman noo, she has opened a bursary, nae less. She did her best to get a doctor, or at least a sticket minister in George Street, while she leeved by them; noo she’s
