The farmers of the neighbourhood, who looked forward to providing the young people with drills of potatoes for the coming winter, made a bid for their custom by sending them a fowl gratis for the marriage supper.

It was popularly understood to be the oldest cock of the farmyard, but for all that it made a brave appearance in a shallow sea of soup.

The fowls were always boiled--without exception, so far as my memory carries me; the guid-wife never having the heart to roast them, and so lose the broth.

One round of whisky-and-water was all the drink to which his shilling entitled the guest.

If he wanted more he had to pay for it.