A HUMORIST ON HIS CALLING After the eight o'clock bell had rung, Hendry occasionally crossed over to the farm of T'nowhead and sat on the pig-sty.

If no one joined him he scratched the pig, and returned home gradually.

Here what was almost a club held informal meetings, at which two or four, or even half a dozen assembled to debate, when there was any one to start them.
The meetings were only memorable when Tammas Haggart was in fettle, to pronounce judgments in his well-known sarcastic way.

Sometimes we had got off the pig-sty to separate before Tammas was properly yoked.
There we might remain a long time, planted round him like trees, for he was a mesmerising talker.
There was a pail belonging to the pig-sty, which some one would turn bottom upwards and sit upon if the attendance was unusually numerous.
Tammas liked, however, to put a foot on it now and again in the full swing of a harangue, and when he paused for a sarcasm I have seen the pail kicked toward him.

He had the wave of the arm that is so convincing in argument, and such a natural way of asking questions, that an audience not used to public speaking might have thought he wanted them to reply.