[The Life of Mansie Wauch by David Macbeth Moir]@TWC D-Link bookThe Life of Mansie Wauch CHAPTER VIII 7/10
I could thole it no longer; so, buttoning my breeches-knees, I threw my cowl into a corner, clapped my hat on my head, and away down in full birr to the Duke's gate. I speired at the porter, if the gentleman with the velveteen breeches and powdered hair, that was dining with the Duke, had come up the avenue yet? "Velveteen breeches and powdered hair!" said auld Paul laughing, and taking the pipe out of his cheek, "whose butler is't that ye're after ?" "Well," said I to him, "I see it all as plain as a pikestaff.
He is off bodily; but may the meat and the drink he has taken off us be like drogs to his inside; and may the velveteens play crack, and cast the steeks at every step he takes!" It was no Christian wish; and Paul laughed till he was like to burst, at my expense.
"Gang your ways hame, Mansie," said he to me, clapping me on the shoulder as if I had been a wean, "and give over setting traps, for ye see you have catched a Tartar." This was too much; first to be cheated by a swindling loon, and then made game of by a flunkie; and, in my desperation, I determined to do some awful thing. Nanse followed me in from the door, and asked what news ?--I was ower big, and ower vexed to hear her; so, never letting on, I went to the little looking-glass on the drawers' head, and set it down on the table.
Then I looked myself in it for a moment, and made a gruesome face.
Syne I pulled out the little drawer, and got the sharping strap, the which I fastened to my button.
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