“I weel thoucht there sud be mair intil ’t nor appeart! Ye wad fain hae the auld man’s shune, an’ mak sur o’ them afore he kickit them frae him! Ay! It’s jist like the likes o’ ye! Mine’s a place the like o’ you’s keen set efter! Ye think it’s a’ ait an’ play! Gang awa’ wi’ ye, an’ latna me see the face o’ ye again, or I s’ ca’ to them ’at ’ll tak accoont o’ ye.” “Hoot, man!” returned Cosmo, and went on turning the ground over, “ye’re unco hard upon a neebor!” “Neebor! ye’re no neebor o’ mine! Gang awa’ wi’ ye, I tell ye!” “Did naebody never gie’ _you_ a helpin’ han’, ’at ye’re sae dooms hard upo’ ane ’at needs ane?” “Gien onybody ever did, it wasna you.” “But dinna ye think ye’re a kin’ o’ b’un’ to du the like again?” “Ay, to him ’at did it--but I tell ye ye’re no the man; sae gang aboot yer business.” “Someday ye may want somebody ance mair to du ye a guid turn!” “I hae dune a heap to gie me a claim on consideration. I hae grown auld upo’ the place. What hae _ye_ dune, my man?” “I wadna hae muckle chance o’ duin’ onything, gien a’ body was like you. But did ye never hear tell o’ ane ’at said: ‘Ye wad du naething for nane o’ mine, sae ye refeesed mysel’?” “Deed, an’ I wull refeese yersel’,” returned the old man. “Sic a chield for jaw an’ cheek--saw I never nane--as the auld sang says! Whaur on this earth cam ye frae?” As he spoke, he gave Cosmo a round punch on the shoulder next him that made him look from his work, and then began eying him up and down in the most supercilious manner. He was a small, withered, bowed man, with a thin wizened face, crowned by a much worn fur cap. His mouth had been so long drawn down at each corner as by weights of discontent, that it formed nearly a half-circle. His eyebrows were lifted as far as they would go above his red-lidded blue eyes, and there was a succession of ripply wrinkles over each of them, which met in the middle of his forehead, so that he was all over arches. Under his cap stuck out enormous ears, much too large for his face. Huge veiny hands hung trembling by his sides, but they trembled more from anger than from age. “I tellt ye a’ready,” answered Cosmo; “I come frae the auld country.” “Deil tak the auld country! What care I for the auld country! It’s a braid place, an’ langer nor it’s braid, an’ there’s mony ane intil ’t an’ oot on ’t ’at’s no warth the parritch his mither pat intil ’im. Eh, the fowth o’ fushionless beggars I hae seen come to me like yersel’!--Ow ay! it was aye wark they wad hae!--an’ cudna du mair nor a flee amo’ triacle!--What coonty are ye frae, wi’ the lang legs an’ the lang back-bane o’ ye?” Cosmo told him. The hands of the old man rose from his sides, and made right angles of his elbows. “Weel,” he said slowly, “that’s no an ill coonty to come frae. I may say _that_, for I belang til ’t mysel’. But what pairt o’ ’t ran ye frae whan ye cam awa’?”