purdie's embarrassment. 243 



mindet it na mair ; but our wife war in a terrible bad 

 key the morning, because I war sail' wanted last niclit. 



** ' Well,' said the maister, ' ye mun never do the like 

 again, Tom.' We then ganged to the woods, and thinned 

 the trees ; and I laboured with the axe at thae that Sir 

 Walter marked. 



" ' Now Tom,' says he, * you will go home with me, for 

 you have been working very hard, and a glass of whis- 

 key will do you good ; ' and he cawed to Nicholson to 

 bring Tom a glass o' Glenlivet. I tuk it doon; and, mon, 

 if yee'd found it, it beat a' the whiskey I ever tasted in 

 my life. * Well, Tom,' said Sir Walter, ' how do ye 

 feel after it ? Do ye think another glass Avill do ye ony 

 harm ? ' I said naetliing, but I thoucht I wad like 

 anither, and Nicholson poured out ain, and I tuk it. 

 Then the maister said, ' Tom, do ye feel ony thing the 

 war o' it ? ' 'Nau, nau,' said I, 'but it's terrible powerfu', 

 and three times as Strang as ony whiskey I ever drank 

 in my life.' ' Then, Tom,' says Sir Walter, ' never tell me 

 that three glasses o' Susy's whiskey will fill ye fou, when 

 ye have drank twa of mine, which you say is three times 

 as strong, and you feel aU the better for it.' Hey, mon, 

 I never was so taen by the face in a' my life ! I didna 

 ken where to luk. The deil faw me if ever he cotch me 

 so again ! " 



Tom Purdie's forbearance, however, was not of an 

 enduring quality ; liis eyes gHstened as he followed the 

 course of the bottle ; three times was his arm extended 

 to make a grap at it, and thrice did he draw it back 

 with modest confusion. At length when all were served 

 he could hold out no longer, but elongating his dexter, 



R 2 



