“‘’Look at thon wee wean, Erchie,’ she wad aye be tellin’ me, ‘does’t no’ put ye in mind o’ Rubbert’s wee Hughie? Oh, the cratur!’ “‘Wumman,’ I tellt her, ‘this is no’ a kinderspiel ye’re at; it’s a Royal procession. I wonder to me ye wad be wastin’ yer e’esicht lookin’ at weans when there’s sae mony braw sodgers.’ “‘Oh, Erchie!’ says she, ‘I’m bye wi’ the sodgers;’ and jist wi’ that the procession cam’ up the street. First the Lancers wi’ their dickies stickin’ ootside their waistcoats. “‘Man, them’s fine horses,’ says Duffy, wi’ a professional eye on the beasts. ‘Chaps me that broon yin wi’ the white feet.’ “Then cam’ the King and Queen. “‘Whaur’s their croons?’ asks Duffy’s wife. ‘I divna believe that’s them at a’.’ “‘That’s them, I’ll bate ony money,’ I says. ‘Ye can tell by the hurry they’re in.’ “‘Oh, the craturs!’ says Jinnet, and then says she, ‘Oh, Erchie! look at the wean hanging ower that window. I’m feart it’ll fa’ ower.’ “Afore she could get her een aff the wean the King’s cairrage was past, and the rest o’ the Lancers cam’ clatterin’ after them. “‘Noo for the brass bands!’ says Duffy, lookin’ doon the street. But there was nae brass bands. The show was bye. “‘If I had kent that was to be a’ that was in’t, I wad never hae ta’en oot my lorry,’ says Duffy, as angry as onything, and made a breenge for anither bottle o’ broon robin. “‘Och, it was fine,’ says Jinnet. ‘I never saw sae mony weans in a’ my days.’. “And the crood began to scale. “His Majesty reached Maryhill Station exact to the minute, wi’ his eye on his watch. “‘Weel, that’s bye ony wye,’ says he, and somebody cries for a speech. “‘People o’ Gleska,’ he says, ‘I have seen your toon. It’s fine--there’s naething wrang wi’t,’ and then the gaird blew his whustle, and the train went aff. “The great event was ower, the rain begood to fa’ again; the Gilmorehill student hurried hame to blacken his face and put on his sister’s frock. The coloured ping-pong balls strung ower Sauchieha’ Street was lighted, the illuminated skoosh cars began to skoosh up and doon the street, the public-hooses did a fine tred. “‘I’m gled it’s a’ bye,’ says Jinnet, when we got hame to oor ain hoose. “‘Indeed, and so am I,’ says I. ‘There wad be fine fun in this warld a’ the time if we werena tryin’ for’t.’” XI ERCHIE RETURNS |For weeks I had not seen Erchie. He was not to be met on the accustomed streets, and St Kentigern’s Kirk having been closed since July for alterations and repairs, it was useless to go there in search of its beadle. Once I met Duffy, and asked him what had become of the old man.