"Ay, Johnnie was a simple man, an' we shouldna say onything against the corp ahint his back that we couldna say to his face; an' if he could dae ye a guid turn, ye had jist to ask it. I'm share it's no a fortnicht sin' my man was plantin' tatties in the back gairden, an' Johnnie lookit ower the hedge, an' he never said onything but jist 'Try they,' an' he put six Dalmahoy earlies in my man's hand. Ay! it's a lesson to us a'; as I aye say, If ye havena a guid word to say o' onybody, 'od sake haud yer tongue,--there they're comin'! Wha's that young man in the front?--that's no their auldest son Jamie, is't? It's jist him; ay, my Alec telt me he met um comin' ower fae the station this mornin' tryin' to talk English, an' him naething but in a draper's shop. Says he, 'I could hardly get away this morning, we're so thrang in our estaiblishment.' Ay, there's nae fear o' him talkin' shop; an' see what a graund hat he's got, an nae weepers on't, an' him the corp's son; an' black kid gloves tae, instead o' white cotton yins; an' see what a grand coffin they've got tae,--they mun get it oot o' Edinburgh, as if Wull Binnie couldna mak' them a guid enough yin. I can tell ye, the yin he made to me when my grandfaither deid was as guid a coffin as a man need pit on his back, a' covered ower wi' big brass-heided nails like a jail door; an' she's gaun to gie them a graund denner tae when they come back, mair like a mairrage than a funeral. She was ower to me for the len' o' hauf-a-dizzen knives an' forks an' as mony spoons, an' a' among the neebors tae for a cruet-stand; dash't, d'ye ken, when she cam' to me I didna ken what she meant, so I says, 'Eh I'm rale sorry, but I doot mines is ower sair torn.' "'A cruet-stand,' says she, 'for haudin' mustard an' catshup, ye ken." "'Oh! a cruet-stand,' says I, pretendin' I hadna heard her; 'eh no, I never had onything that way bit a pepper-an'-saut dish.'--Hev ye seen her new murnin' goon an' weedy's kep?" "That wad be the bundle Jamie brocht oot ablow his oxter; I was wonderin' what it was. Weel, I'm share she micht a' gien Maggie Simpson the job to mak' it; though maybe Maggie's better athoot it, an' couldna wait lang enough for her siller. I declare there she's comin' ower to show aff her graund new frock.--Come awa' in, Mrs. Gibb; we wus jist sayin' hoo sorry oo wus for ye, an' what a consolation it wud be to ye to see sic a wiselike turn-oot at the funeral." "Ay! it's a sad day for me. Hoo d'ye like my frock? Jamie brocht it oot; rale mindfu' o' um, wasn't it?" "Eh ay, it jist looks as if it had been made for ye; it's easy seen it's no Maggie Simpson's dain'. I'm share it's just spoilin' guid cloth to gie her a goon to mak'." "I've jist come in to see if ye wad len' me yer tureen for the soup." "Oh ay; John keeps his nails an' things in't, but I'll gie't a bit dicht oot for ye." So away went Mrs. Gibb, saying to herself, "Haverin' bodies! nae doot they've been speakin' aboot me."