That she had an object in desiring her company
that night, may seem probable from the conversation which arose as
they plodded their way thither along the sands.
"I h'ard a queer tale aboot Meg Horn at Duff Harbour the ither
day," said the midwife, speaking thus disrespectfully both to ease
her own heart and to call forth the feelings of her companion, who
also, she knew, disliked Miss Horn.
"Ay! an' what micht that be?"
"But she's maybe a freen' o' yours, Mrs Findlay? Some fowk likes
her, though I canna say I'm ane o' them."
"Freen' o' mine!" exclaimed the Partaness. "We gree like twa bills
(bulls) i' the same park!"
"I wadna wonner!--for they tellt me 'at saw her fechtin' i' the
High Street wi' a muckle loon, near han' as big 's hersel'! an'
haith, but Meg had the best o' 't, an' flang him intil the gutter,
an' maist fellt him! An' that's Meg Horn!"
"She had been at the drink! But I never h'ard it laid till her
afore."
"Didna ye than? Weel, I'm no sayin' onything--that's what I
h'ard."
"Ow, it's like eneuch! She was bulliraggin' at me nae langer ago
nor thestreen; but I doobt I sent her awa' wi' a flech (flea) in
her lug!"
"Whaten a craw had she to pluck wi' you, no?"
"Ow fegs! ye wad hae ta'en her for a thief catcher, and me for the
thief! She wad threpe (insist) 'at I bude to hae keepit some o'
the duds 'at happit Ma'colm MacPhail the reprobat, whan first he
cam to the Seaton--a puir scraichin' brat, as reid 's a bilet
lobster.
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