The Equinox (Volume I, Number VIII)

ELDER EEL AWL. Three lies in three words, Elder. Ye'll win the Bishop's Kettle this year, for sure! But what is it? Hae the Glasgie fowk got wind 0‘ your little affair wi' Bungs? What d'ye mak’ a year oot 0' that? EEL. Ye wicked deevil l AWL. I dinna care. It's your affair to take the King's siller, and the whisky man’s gowd ! But I'm wondering 1100 it gangs wi' sae muckle releegion ! EEL. Ηοο dare ye? AWL. Or have they found your ain private still o‘er the brae? An exciseman wi' a still 0’ his ainl ha! 1131 ha! κει. Ye fausse fiend ! Hae ye gi’en me awa‘? AWL, Nal I’m no sae releegious as ye are. But I doot it's fowk ken 0‘ your dealin’s wi‘ Jeannie Maekay ! EEL. Hoo did ye ken that? AWL. Why, the lass is in trouble; and you best ken wha‘s the fault is. ΕΕΙ͵᾿Ay ! And didna Ι gie her {ower shilling an' saxpence to get tae Glasgie an’ hide her shame? An' didna I rebuke her for the sin at by the reever bank, so that she might hae found grace to droon hersel‘ ? AWL. Ay 1 ye're 3 mean, sneakin’, coordly, murderous dog! That 1 didna ken, an' I thank ye {or tellin‘ me. I'm for ben. [Ηe spits osteiztafz'ously on the ground andgoes qflR, But remains visible to audz'eizee as one 645113/?ןעשthe scene. He wins/[es softly and bee/eons, of] EEL. Bad! Badl I maun be fey to hae tellt him that. But I'll see Jeannie, and gie her twa pund sterling—ma Ι one pund fifteen shillin’—nal one pund ten shillin'—an’ get her VIII P 225