````She made my life a burden; ````I don’t want to live, ````And I’m gey sweart to dee. ````She’s left me a’ forlorn, ````And I wish I’d ne’er been born, ````Since fause Maggie Jurdan ````Went and jilted me."= Leezie only heard one verse, and then began hysterically to cry. “Look you here, Mac,” broke in Erchie, “could ye no’ mak’ it the sword dance, or the Hoolichan, or something that wadna harrow oor feelin’s this way?” “Onything that’ll gie us a rest,” said Duffy, soothing his fiancee. “The nicht air’s evidently no’ very guid for the voice.” “Coals!” cried the policeman, in a very good imitation of Duffy’s business wail; and at that Leezie had to be assisted into the kitchen by the other two women. Duffy glared at his jealous and defeated rival, thought hard of something withering to hurl at him, and then said “Saps!” “What iss that you are saying?” asked Macrae. “Saps! Big Saps! That’s jist whit ye are,” said Duffy. “If I wasna engaged I wad gie ye yin in the ear.” Jinnet’s tea-party broke up as quickly as possible after that. When her guests had gone, and she found herself alone in the kitchen with Erchie and the tea dishes he carried in for her, she fell into a chair and wept. “I’ll never hae anither tea-pairty, and that’s tellin’ ye,” she exclaimed between her sobs. “Fancy a’ that cairry-on ower a big, fat, cat-witted cratur like thon! Her and her lads!” “It’s a’ richt, Jinnet,” said Erchie; “you syne oot the dishes and I’ll dry them if ye’ll feenish yer greetin’. It’s no’ the last tea-pairty we’ll hae if we hae oor health, but the next yin ye hae see and pick the company better.” XVII THE NATIVES OF CLACHNACUDDEN “You are looking somewhat tired, Erchie,” I said to the old man on Saturday. “I suppose you were waiter at some dinner last night?” “Not me!” said he promptly. “I wasna at my tred at a’ last nicht; I was wi’ Jinnet at the Clachnacudden conversashion. My! but we’re gettin’ grand. You should hae seen the twa o’ us sittin’ as hard as onything in a corner o’ the hall watchin’ the young yins dancin’, and wishin’ we were hame. Och, it’s a fine thing a conversashion; there’s naething wrang wi’t; it’s better nor standin’ aboot the street corners, or haudin’ up the coonter at the Mull o’ Kintyre Vaults. But I’ll tell ye whit, it’s no’ much o’ a game for an auld couple weel ower sixty, though no’ compleenin’, and haein’ their health, and able to read the smallest type withoot specs. I wadna hae been there at a’, but Macrae, the nicht polisman that’s efter Jinnet’s niece, cam’ cravin’ me to buy tickets.”