' the world chuse? Na, lad, ye are putten oot o' the room, like
witnesses."

_Flucker._ "Then I'd toss a penny; for gien ye trust to luck, she whiles
favors ye, but gien ye commence to reason and argefy--ye're done!"

_Christie._ "The suitors had na your wit, my manny, or maybe they had na
a penny to toss, sae ane chused the gowd, ane the siller; but they got
an awfu' affront. The gold kist had just a skull intil't, and the siller
a deed cuddy's head!"

_Chorus of Females._ "He! he! he!"

_Ditto of Males._ "Haw! haw! haw! haw! Ho!"

_Christie._ "An' Porsha puttit the pair of gowks to the door. Then came
Bassanio, the lad fra Veeneece, that Porsha loed in secret. Veeneece,
lasses, is a wonderful city; the streets o' 't are water, and the
carriages are boats--that's in Chambers'."

_Flucker._ "Wha are ye making a fool o'?"

_Christie._ "What's wrang?"

_Flucker._ "Yon's just as big a lee as ever I heerd."

The words were scarcely out of his mouth ere he had reason to regret
them; a severe box on the ear was administered by his indignant sister.
Nobody pitied him.

_Christie._ "I'll laern yet' affront me before a' the company."

_Jean Carnie._ "Suppose it's a lee, there's nae silver to pay for it,
Flucker."

_Christie._ "Jean, I never telt a lee in a' my days."

_Jean._ "There's ane to begin wi' then. Go ahead, Custy."

_Christie._ "She bade the music play for him, for music brightens
thoucht; ony way, he chose the leed kist. Open'st and wasn't there
Porsha's pictur, and a posy, that said:

'If you be well pleased with this, And hold your fortune for your bliss;
Turn you where your leddy iss, And greet her wi' a loving--'" _(Pause)._

"Kess," roared the company.

_Chorus, led by Flucker._ "Hurraih!"

_Christie (pathetically)._ "Flucker, behave!"

_Sandy Liston (drunk)._ "Hur-raih!" He then solemnly reflected. "Na!
but it's na hurraih, decency requires amen first an' hurraih afterward;
here's kissin plenty, but I hear nae word o' the minister. Ye'll
obsairve, young woman, that kissin's the prologue to sin, and I'm a
decent mon, an' a gray-headed mon, an' your licht stories are no for me;
sae if the minister's no expeckit I shall retire--an' tak my quiet gill
my lane."

_Jean Carnie._ "And div ye really think a decent cummer like Custy wad
let the lad and lass misbehave thirsels? Na! lad, the minister's at the
door, but" (sinking her voice to a confidential whisper) "I daurna let
him in, for fear he