Languages & literature > A window in Thrums

THE SON FROM LONDON
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endowed; yet, as the month neared its close, it was
the daughter who put on the humorist, Jess thinking
money too serious a thing to jest about Then if
Leeby had a moment for gossip, as when ironing a
dickey for Hendry, and the iron was a trifle too hot,
she would look archly at me before addressing her
mother in these words—
“ Will he send, think ye ? ”
Jess, who had a conviction that he would send,
affected surprise at the question.
“ Will Jamie send this month, do ye mean ? Na,
oh, losh no! it’s no to be expeckit Na, he couldna
do’t this time.”
“ That’s what ye aye say, but he aye sends. Yes,
an’ vara weel ye ken ’at he will send.”
“Na, na, Leeby; dinna let me ever think o’ sic
a thing this month.”
“ As if ye wasna thinkin’ o’t day an’ nicht 1 ”
“ He’s terrible mindfu’, Leeby, but he doesna hae’t
Na, no this month; mebbe next month.”
“ Do you mean to tell me, mother, ’at ye’ll no be
up oot o’ yer bed on Monunday an hour afore yer
usual time lookin’ for the post ? ”
“Na, no this time. I may be up, an’ tak a look