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MacDonald, George, 1824-1905

"Robert Falconer"

Duv ye min', Robert, hoo, whan ye was
aboot the age o' aucht year aul', ye cam to me ance at my shop aboot
something yer gran'mither, honest woman, wantit, an' I, by way o'
takin' my fun o' ye, said to ye, "Robert, ye hae grown desperate;
ye're a man clean; ye hae gotten the breeks on." An' says ye, "Ay,
Mr. MacGregor, I want naething noo but a watch an' a wife"?'
'I doobt I've forgotten a' aboot it, Mr. MacGregor,' answered
Robert. 'But I've made some progress, accordin' to your story, for
Dr. Anderson, afore I cam hame, gae me a watch. An' a fine crater
it is, for it aye does its best, an' sae I excuse its shortcomin's.'
'There's just ae thing, an' nae anither,' returned the manufacturer,
'that I cannot excuse in a watch. Gin a watch gangs ower fest, ye
fin' 't oot. Gin she gangs ower slow, ye fin' 't oot, an' ye can
aye calculate upo' 't correck eneuch for maitters sublunairy, as Mr.
Maccleary says. An' gin a watch stops a'thegither, ye ken it's
failin', an' ye ken whaur it sticks, an' a' 'at ye say 's "Tut, tut,
de'il hae 't for a watch!" But there's ae thing that God nor man
canna bide in a watch, an' that's whan it stan's still for a
bittock, an' syne gangs on again. Ay, ay! tic, tic, tic! wi' a fair
face and a leein' hert. It wad gar ye believe it was a' richt, and
time for anither tum'ler, whan it's twal o'clock, an' the kirkyaird
fowk thinkin' aboot risin'. Fegs, I had a watch o' my father's, an'
I regairdit it wi' a reverence mair like a human bein': the second
time it played me that pliskie, I dang oot its guts upo' the
loupin'-on-stane at the door o' the chop.


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