"Look at Mrs.M'Cosh!" Miss Bathgate snorted.
"Ay," said Mrs.M'Cosh, with imperturbable good-humour, "she seen me, and she thinks yin auld fool is enough at a time.

Never heed, Bella, juist gie us a verse." Miss Bathgate protested that she knew no songs, and had no voice, but under persuasion she broke into a ditty, a sort of recitative: "Gang further up the toon, Geordie Broon, Geordie Broon, Gang further up the toon, Geordie Broon: Gang further up the toon Till ye's spent yer hale hauf-croon, And then come singin' doon, Geordie Broon, Geordie Broon." "I remember that when I was a child," Jean said.

"We used to be put to sleep with it; it is very soothing.

Thank you so much, Miss Bathgate ...

Now I think we should have a game." "Forfeits," Miss Teenie suggested.
"That's a silly game," said Mhor; "there's kissing in it." "Perhaps we might have a quiet game," Jean said.