Tilliedrum man no lang syne, an' they're said to hae a michty grand
establishment. Ay, they've a wardrobe spleet new; an' what think ye
Tibbie wears ilka day?"

I shook my head.

"It was Chirsty Miller 'at put it through the toon," Henry continued.
"Chirsty was in Tilliedrum last Teisday or Wednesday, an' Tibbie gae
her a cup o' tea. Ay, weel, Tibbie telt Chirsty 'at she wears hose
ilka day."

"Wears hose?"

"Ay. It's some michty grand kind o' stockin'. I never heard o't in
this toon. Na, there's naebody in Thrums 'at wears hose."

"And who did Tibbie get?" I asked; for in Thrums they say, "Wha did she
get?" and "Wha did he tak?"

"His name's Davit Curly. Ou, a crittur fu' o' maggots, an' nae great
match, for he's juist the Tilliedrum bill-sticker."

At this moment Jess shouted from her chair (she was burnishing the
society teapot as she spoke), "Mind, Hendry McQumpha, 'at upon nae
condition are you to mention the bill-stickin' afore Tibbie!"

"Tibbie," Hendry explained to me, "is a terrible vain tid, an' doesna
think the bill-stickin' genteel. Ay, they say 'at if she meets Davit
in the street wi' his paste-pot an' the brush in his hands she pretends
no to ken 'im."

Every time Jess paused to think she cried up orders, such as--

"Dinna call her Tibbie, mind ye. Always address her as Mistress Curly."

"Shak' hands wi' baith o' them, an' say ye hope they're in the
enjoyment o' guid health."

"Dinna put yer feet on the table."

"Mind, you're no' to mention 'at ye kent they were in the toon."

"When onybody passes ye yer tea say, 'Thank ye.'"

"Dinna stir yer tea as if ye was churnin' butter, nor let on 'at the
scones is no our am bakin'."

"If Tibbie says onything aboot the china yer no' to say 'at we dinna
use it ilka day."

"Dinna lean back in the big chair, for it's broken, an' Leeby's gi'en
it a lick o' glue this meenute."

"When Leeby gies ye a kick aneath the table that'll be a sign to ye to
say grace."

Hendry looked at me apologetically while these instructions came up.

"I winna dive my head wi' sic nonsense," he said; "it's no' for a man
body to be sae crammed fu' o' manners."

"Come awa doon," Jess shouted to him, "an' put on a clean dickey."

"I'll better do't to please her," said Hendry, "though for my ain part
I dinna like the feel o' a dickey on week-days. Na, they mak's think
it's the Sabbath."

Ten minutes afterwards I went downstairs to see how the preparations
we