"It's most michty," said Jess, turning on her husband, "'at ye should tak a pleasure in bringin' this hoose to disgrace. Hoo did ye no tell's suner?" "I fair forgot," Hendry answered, "but what's a' yer steer?" Jess looked at me (she often did this) in a way that meant, "What a man is this I'm tied to!" "Steer!" she exclaimed. "Is't no time we was makkin' a steer? They'll be in for their tea ony meenute, an' the room no sae muckle as sweepit. Ay, an' me lookin' like a sweep; an' Tibbie Mealmaker 'at's sae partikler genteel seein' you sic a sicht as ye are?" Jess shook Hendry out of his chair, while Leeby began to sweep with the one hand, and agitatedly to unbutton her wrapper with the other. "She didna see me," said Hendry, sitting down forlornly on the table. "Get aff that table!" cried Jess. "See haud o' the besom," she said to Leeby. "For mercy's sake, mother," said Leeby, "gie yer face a dicht, an' put on a clean mutch." "I'll open the door if they come afore you're ready," said Hendry, as Leeby pushed him against the dresser. "Ye daur to speak aboot openin'the door, an' you sic a mess!" cried Jess, with pins in her mouth. "Havers!" retorted Hendry. "A man canna be aye washin' at 'imsel." Seeing that Hendry was as much in the way as myself, I invited him upstairs to the attic, whence we heard Jess and Leeby upbraiding each other shrilly. I was aware that the room was speckless; but for all that, Leeby was turning it upside down. "She's aye ta'en like that," Hendry said to me, referring to his wife, "when she's expectin' company. Ay, it's a peety she canna tak things cannier." "Tibbie Mealmaker must be some one of importance?" I asked. "Ou, she's naething by the ord'nar'; but ye see she was mairit to a Tilliedrum man no lang syne, an' they're said to hae a michty grand establishment. Ay, they've a wardrobe spleet new; an' what think ye Tibbie wears ilka day?" I shook my head. "It was Chirsty Miller 'at put it through the toon," Henry continued. "Chirsty was in Tilliedrum last Teisday or Wednesday, an' Tibbie gae her a cup o' tea. Ay, weel, Tibbie telt Chirsty 'at she wears hose ilka day." "Wears hose?" "Ay. It's some michty grand kind o' stockin'. I never heard o't in this toon. Na, there's naebody in Thrums 'at wears hose." "And who did Tibbie get?" I asked; for in Thrums they say, "Wha did she get?" and "Wha did he tak?" "His name's Davit Curly. Ou, a crittur fu' o' maggots, an' nae great match, for he's juist the Tilliedrum bill-sticker." At this moment Jess shouted from her chair (she was burnishing the society teapot as she spoke), "Mind, Hendry McQumpha, 'at upon nae condition are you to mention the bill-stickin' afore Tibbie!" "Tibbie," Hendry explained to me, "is a terrible vain tid, an' doesna think the bill-stickin' genteel. Ay, they say 'at if she meets Davit in the street wi' his paste-pot an' the brush in his hands she pretends no to ken 'im."