My Man Sandy

nither holiday like what Sandy an' me had this week. Holiday! It's a winder there wasna a special excursion comin' hame wi' Sandy's bur'al.

opis, as Sandy ca'd it to the fowk i' the train. He garred me start twa-thre

rat like onything. "I winder what I'll do wi' this bairn?" said the lassie; an' Sandy, in the middle o' argeyin' wi' anither ass o' a ma

e o' yoursel! Gie me the bairnie," says I;

' an' awfu'-like name. I canna mind what it was, an' never will,

; an' you never heard what lauchin' as there was on the pletform. The stationmester's fac

rain moved awa' the fowk hurrehed like's it had been

n' his ongaens. Hooever, we landit a' richt in Edinboro. An' what a day! I thocht when we got to a temperance hotel at nicht

ed, an' whaur John Knox redd her up for carryin' on like a pagan linkie instead o' the Queen o' Scotland. Weel, it was gey late when we got back to oor hotel, an' we juist had a bit snack o' supper, an' up t

was juist a' ready, when he cudna fa' in wi' his nichtkep. It was in a handbag o' Sandy'

hite nichtgoon, and he gaed to the room door an' opene

rin doon, an' I'll bring up my umberell an' my hat at the s

st like some corp escapit frae the kirkyaird. He wasna a meenit oot when

he had forgotten. By ill-fortune he cam' on the handle o' the denner bell, an' liftin't, it ga'e a creesh an' a clang that knokit a' the sense oot o' Sandy's heid, and wauken'd half the fowk i' the hoose. Sandy took till his heels up the stair; an' a gey like picture he was, wi' his lang, white sark-t

got hoo mony stairs he had to clim', and he gaed bang in on an auld sea captain an' his wife, in the room below oors. It fair paralised

alang a passage he gaed, fleein' like a huntit tod. I heard him as gin he'd been doo

or what's ado wi' him?"

oice. "It's shurely some mi

man do wi' an umberell, a

he room doors were bangin' like thunder, an' Sandy's bell was ringin' like's Gabriel had lost his trumpet. You never heard sic a din. I saw him comin' leggin' up the stair. The stairheid was fu' o' fowk, a' oot in their nicht-goo

ve been fleein' a' roond Edinboro wi' naething on but my nicht-goon, an' my lum, an' a' the coal cairters i' t

," says I. "That's the denner bell you'

n. He lut it drap on the flure wi' a clash like a clap o' thunder,

eard sic lauchin'. A' the chaps were clappin' Sandy on the shuder; an' ane o' them says-"Ay

' them a'. Hoo he raggit Sandy aboot b

"carry't by the tongue, man. It's safer that wey. Bells

was bidin' in Carnoustie, and he wadna hae a nasay but we wud come an' hae a cup o' tea wi' him. "An' if you'll bide a

's a' ower. But if you'd been in my plac