Page:Tales of my landlord (Volume 2).djvu/80

 aye the warst lick in the fray. If the sodgers draw their swords, ye'll cry on the corporal and the guard. If the countra folk tak the tangs and poker, ye'll cry on the baillie and town-officers. But in nae event cry on me, for I am wearied wi' doudling the bag o' wind a' day, and I am gaun to eat my dinner quietly in the spence.—And, now I think on't, the Laird of Lickitup (that's him that was the laird) was speering for sma' drink and a saut herring—gi'e him a pu' be the sleeve, and round into his lug I wad be blyth o' his company to dine wi' me; he was a gude customer anes in a day, and wants naething but means to be a gude ane agane—he likes drink as weel as e'er he did. And if ye ken ony poor body o' our acquaintance that's blate for want o' siller, and has far to gang hame, ye needna stick to gi'e them a waught o' drink and a bannock—well ne'er miss't, and it looks creditable in a house like ours. And now, hinny, gang awa', and serve the folk, but first bring me