Faith! I cud hae leed ance wi' onybody, barrin'
the de'il. I winna lee. I'm nae leein'. The fac's jist this: I
cudna bide ahin' ye ony langer.'
'But what, the muckle lang-tailed deevil! am I to do wi' ye?'
returned Robert, in real perplexity, though only pretended
displeasure.
'Gie me something to ate, an' I'll tell ye what to do wi' me,'
answered Shargar. 'I dinna care a scart (scratch) what it is.'
Robert rang the bell and ordered some porridge, and while it was
preparing, Shargar told his story--how having heard a rumour of
apprenticeship to a tailor, he had the same night dropped from the
gable window to the ground, and with three halfpence in his pocket
had wandered and begged his way to Aberdeen, arriving with one
halfpenny left.
'But what am I to do wi' ye?' said Robert once more, in as much
perplexity as ever.
'Bide till I hae tellt ye, as I said I wad,' answered Shargar.
'Dinna ye think I'm the haveless (careless and therefore helpless)
crater I used to be. I hae been in Aberdeen three days! Ay, an' I
hae seen you ilka day in yer reid goon, an' richt braw it is. Luik
ye here!'
He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out what amounted to two or
three shillings, chiefly in coppers, which he exposed with triumph
on the table.
'Whaur got ye a' that siller, man?' asked Robert.
'Here and there, I kenna whaur; but I hae gien the weicht o' 't for
't a' the same--rinnin' here an' rinnin' there, cairryin' boxes till
an' frae the smacks, an' doin' a'thing whether they bade me or no.
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