212 A DOMESTIC DIALOGUE, "Weel, Tam, a' that I can think o't is that it's a confoonded lee." "It's naethin' o' the sort, Jean; it's a sterlin' fact.” "Weel, Tam, admittin' I've got a' that, is it ower muckle to keep six o' us on? Ye've nae idea, Tam, what it tak's to keep a hoose; it's easy eneuch workin' for't, but, my certie, it's no sae easy layin't oot. Mony a mornin' I lie in bed won'erin' hoo the rent's to be paid. Ay, Tam, the men ha'e got the best o't." lyin' in bed in the Ye talk aboot no' gin ye'd dae that "Lo'd, but ye're provokin' too, Jean; mornin' is aboot the best thing ye're at. havin' ower muckle to keep the hoose wi'; itsel' it wadna be sae bad. But Lord bless me, Jean, oor bits o' weans are naked. The puir things canna get to the door. They canna get keepin' a bit decent steek for ye. 'Twas only last Friday I gaed to the drawers to get oot my black claes to gang to Geordie Manson's funeral, when, behold, they were flown. Ay, Jean, ye've been rinnin' far ower aften to 'yer uncle's' of late, an' I mean to put a stop till't. Ye've been havin' ower mony tea pairties this while back. The deil himsel' couldna haud fit till't. But, by my sang, ye'll no' ha'e sae mony o' them for the time to come, or if ye ha'e, it'll be at some ither body's expense, no' mine. A bonnie like thing to think that ye'll gether a wheen o' drucken, gossipin' women into yer hoose every ither day, an' stuff them up wi' tea an' pastry, an' then sen' the hauf o' them hame to their men blin' drunk, an' yersel' no' a whit ahint them. It wad tak' a mint o' money to cope wi' sic a carry-on. They're ower auld in the horn for ye, Jean. They've spun ye a bonnie pirn." "Ye're tellin' what's no' true, Tam. Whan was I the waur o'a dram ? " FRAE THE GUIDWIFE AT THE COAST. 213 "It's no sae very lang sin' I had to put ye to bed. Preserve us, ye couldna, Jean, bite yer very thoom." "What caused it, Jean? Whisky and pastry. Ah, woman, I ance could boast to my mates aboot the gem o' a wife I had, but alack, alack, I canna dae that noo. It's hard, hard that I should have to toil an' slave, frae year's end to year's end, an' ha'e nocht to show for't but dirt an' rags. Look at the comforts my mate, Jamie Halliwell, has. But Jamie has a wife worthy o'sic a name. An' mair than that, she has a guid nest-egg in the bank to their credit—a thing we could ha'e had, an' should ha'e had, had ye been carefu'. A thrifty wife, Jean, is the noblest gift ony workin' man could ha'e.” "There has been somebody i' the yaird, Tam, stuffin' up yer heid wi' a wheen o' lees.” "Naethin' o' the sort, Jean. You know every word o't to be true. You ha'e me in debt in every corner. But, my word, there'll be new rules made. Ye may greet, Jean. Tears 'll no saften Tam this twist. It'll tak' naethin' short o' a practical reformation." FRAE THE GUIDWIFE AT THE COAST. DEAR TAM, I got a hoose, an' it was an awfu' job, I can tell ye. I met in wi' Willie M'Cara's wife, an' Mrs. Sillers, an' baith o' them gied me a haun to get a place. As ye'll see by the above address, it's a cottage nae less; my sang, Tam, ye'll be in clover when ye come doon here. 214 FRAE THE GUIDWIFE AT THE COAST. "Twill tak' the pride oot o' some o' oor dandy leddies at Plantation, wha think themselves nae sma' drink. I intend to gie Chirsty M'Crae an invitation doon to see us. It's no' for ony love I ha'e for her. No, Tam, for the same leddy could hardly gang into Lipton's aside us yonner withoot cuttin' a wheen o' capers, tastin' butter wi' a hauf sovereign, an' sich like. But I think 'twill humble her pride a wee bit when she sees oor suit o' apairtments. My word, 'twill open her een. But gin she kent it, I didna intend to tak' sae big a hoose. Bedroom, parlour, W.C., nae less. But then I couldna better mysel'. As I was sayin', the three o' us travelled frae the Gogo Burn to Neilson Street, up ae street an' doon anither, in search o' a place, for four strucken 'oors, afore we got the hoose I ha'e settled on. 'O'd, Tam, I thocht I had naethin' to dae but step into Mary Brown's, whaur we've baith put up this last five-an'-twenty years past. But, faith, I foun' oot my mistake, for Mary was chock-a-block. We ocht to ha'e written aforehaun, she said. An' so we should. Nae doot, Tam, we wad maybe ha'e been a wee cheaper, but we couldna for oor life ha'e been ony better served, for the landlady o' the hoose is as nice a body as ever broke the world's bread. In fact, Tam, Largs folk are a' nice alike, and frae the humblest up wad dae onything to mak' strangers comfortable. An' things are as reasonable here, Tam, as ony place in the West o' Scotland. I wish it was Saturday, Tam, tae I see yer bonnie face. Oor meeting 'll be naething short o' anither honeymune. Heest ye doon.-Frae yer ain SONSIE MEG. LIFE AMONG THE RIVETERS. 215 LIFE AMONG THE RIVETERS. A FOREMAN'S EXPERIENCE. "I UNDERSTAND you are foreman riveter here." 66 66 'Well, sir, I believe I am." May I take the liberty of asking you a few questions regarding the unsteady habits of some of your workmen ?" “Quite at liberty, sir. But before asking or answering any questions, if you would come into the yard at 9.45, when the breakfast meal-hour is over, you will learn a little of what a foreman riveter has got to contend with at the present time. You stand at the foot of yon gangway. The men gather there every meal-hour. Some want one thing, some another. And this, sir, being Thursday after the pay, you will have some little amusement." "Thanks. Good morning just now." "Good morning, sir." "You have got back again?" "I have." "Just stand alongside the crowd, sir, and I will see what each of them want. Well, Geordie, what's the matter with you?" "My mate's no' oot." "What's wrong with him?” "He has an awfu' sair inside." "After a fill-up of drink, I suppose? "Na, na, we're baith T.T." "You don't mean to tell me that you are T.T. just now?" "Ay; I'm T.T." 216 LIFE AMONG THE RIVETERS. "Well, if you are, you have a good strong smell of whisky. I suppose it's a pass you want?" "Ay, I'll tak' a pass. But we'll baith be oot the first thing in the morning." "Ay, ay. We'll see you when you come." "Well, Burns, are you all ready for a start? I think it is high time M'Kinlay and you were making a bend " "We can't make a bend. We've neither holder-on nor boy." "How do you expect, a holder-on or lad to stay with you when you make them lose a week in every pay? No steady hands are going to put up with that sort of work. Here's a pass to you and away and muster a squad." "Well, Jerrie, is your squad all out?" "What was the use of them coming out, sor? They both knew the wife was dead." "And is your wife really dead, Jerrie?" "She is, in troth-and I would like what little I have lying to help to bury her." "Be off out of this, you scoundrel; you have been burying and re-burying that wife of yours for years back.” "Is your squad not all out, Cameron?" "A' but my mate." "Away you, Docherty, and work with Hughie for to-day." "What's the matter with you two fellows ?" "The boy's on the beer." "Dear me, things are coming to a dreadful pitch." "So you may say. But if we can get another ane we'll no' let him start." "Here's a pass out, and away and search for one." Is |