He put down pinion and file, pushed back his chair, and rose to receive them.
"A fine mornin', Jeames!" said the laird.

"I houp ye're weel, and duin' weel." "Muckle the same as usual, laird, an' I thank ye," answered Jeames, with a large smile.

"I'm no jist upo' the ro'd to be what they ca' a millionaire, an' I'm no jist upon the perris--something atween the twa, I'm thinkin'." "I doobt there's mair o' ane's in like condition, Jeames," responded the laird, "or we wad na be comin' to tax yer skeel at this present." "Use yer freedom, laird; I'm yer heumble servan'.

It wadna be a watch for the yoong laird?
I kenna--" He stopped, and cast an anxious eye towards the window.
"Na, na," interrupted the laird, sorry to have raised even so much of a vain hope in the mind of the man, "I'm as farfrae a watch as ye are frae the bank.

But I hae here i' my pooch a bit silly playock,'at's been i' the hoose this mony a lang; an' jist this last nicht it was pitten intil my heid there micht be some guid intl the chattel, seein' i' the tradition o' the faimily it's aye been hauden for siller.