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fa'--he hasna settled his account wi' my gudeman, the deacon, for this twalmonth--he's but slink, I doubt." "Nor wi' huz for sax months," echoed Mrs. Shortcake--"He's but a brunt crust." "There's a letter," interrupted the trusty postmistress, "from his son, the captain, I'm thinking--the seal has the same things wi' the Knockwinnock carriage. He'll be coming hame to see what he can save out o' the fire." The baronet thus dismissed, they took up the esquire--"Twa letters for Monkbarns--they're frae some o' his learned friends now; see sae close as they're written, down to the very seal--and a' to save sending a double letter--that's just like Monkbarns himsell. When he gets a frank he fills it up exact to the weight of an unce, that a carvy-seed would sink the scale--but he's neer a grain abune it. Weel I wot I wad be broken if I were to gie sic weight to the folk that come to buy our pepper and brimstone, and suchlike sweetmeats." "He's a shabby body the laird o' Monkbarns," said Mrs. Heukbane; "he'll make as muckle about buying a forequarter o' lamb in August as about a back sey o' beef. Let's taste another drop of the sinning" (perhaps she meant cinnamon) "waters, Mrs. Mailsetter, my dear. Ah, lasses! an ye had kend his brother as I did--mony a time he wad slip in to see me wi' a brace o' wild deukes in his pouch, when my first gudeman was awa at the Falkirk tryst--weel, weel--we'se no speak o' that e'enow." "I winna say ony ill o'this Monkbarns," said Mrs. Shortcake; "his brother neer brought me ony wild-deukes, and this is a douce honest man; we serve the family wi' bread, and he settles wi' huz ilka week--only he was in an unco kippage when we sent him a book instead o' the nick-sticks,* whilk, he said, were the true ancient way o' counting between tradesmen and customers; and sae they are, nae doubt." * Note E. Nick-sticks. "But look here, lasses," interrupted Mrs. Mailsetter, "here's a sight for sair e'en! What wad ye gie to ken what's in the inside o' this letter? This is new corn--I haena seen the like o' this--For William Lovel, Esquire, at Mrs. Hadoway's, High Street, Fairport, by Edinburgh, N. B. This is just the second letter he has had since he was here." "Lord's sake, let's see, lass!--Lord's sake, let's see!--that's him that the hale town kens naething about--and a weel-fa'ard lad he is; let's see, let's see!" Thus ejaculated the two worthy representatives of mother Eve. "Na, na, sir
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