TAM O' THE SCOOTS
"Fine, Sergeant—clear sky an' all the stars are out."
"Fine for them," said Tam sarcastically, "they've nawthin' to do but be oot or in—A've no patience wi' the stars—puir silly bodies winkin' an' blinkin' an' doin' nae guid to mon or beastie—chuck me ma breeches an' let the warm watter rin in the bath."
In the gray light of dawn the reliefs stood on the ground, waiting for the word "go."
"A' wonder what ma frien' MacMuller is thinkin' the morn?" asked Tam; "wi' a wan face an' a haggaird een, he'll be takin' a moornful farewell o' the Croon Prince Ruppect.
"‘Ye're a brave lad,' says the Croon Prince, 'but maybe Tam's awa'.'
"‘Naw,' says MacMuller, shakin' his heid, 'A've a presentiment that Tam's no' awa'. He'll be oop-stairs waitin' to deal his feelon's-blow. Ech!' says Mister MacMuller, 'for why did I leave ma fine job at the gas-wairks to encoonter the perils an'
46
