J. J. Bell

“ An', as sure as death, I'll mak' a cod o' masel', and be the laughin'-stock o' Fairport, Danks included. Aweel, let it be a lesson to ye. See that ye never let yer vanity get the better o' yer sober judgment. Turn a deaf ear to popular applause, an' avoid—"
"I wudna drink ginger wine if I was payed for V said Willie. "But I'm sure," he added kindly, "ye can mak' as guid a speech as ony man in Fairport, Maister Ridhorn."
"On paper, Wullie, on paper—or, at ony rate, on the taiblets o' ma imagination," said Mr. Redhorn modestly. ”

“ Redhorn had taken a plate of butter. "What did ye hear?" he asked fearfully, and laid the plate of butter on the dresser.
"There's a reporter frae the Greenhill Herald comin' to the polisman's meetin' next week."
"A reporter! Great guidness!"
"He's some relation o' the polisman's. I suppose he'll be writin' doon yer speech for the paper, Maister Ridhorn."
For several seconds Mr. Redhorn remained absolutely motionless. Then he strode noiselessly to the door and turned the key. Then he walked over to the hearth, and stood there for a moment or two, gently stroking his drooping moustache. ”

“ A' the same, I dinna think ye could break yer neck fallin' that wee height."
"The human neck," said Mr. Redhorn seriously, "is easier broke nor ye seem to think, ma lad, an' I never was skilled at the acrobatics. I never yet fell wi'oot hurtin' masel' an' beholdin' a superabundance o' stars. At the same time, as previously observed, I'm grateful to ye for stayin' ma hand afore it could mak' a false step."
During these remarks Willie had lifted a pot, and now he offered it to his employer. "Here's the sawmon-pink, Maister Ridhorn, an' I'll whisper the next time instead o' yellin'." ”

“ Ye see, the meetin' was in ma hoose, and I felt it ma duty to stan' the comp'ny a bottle o' ginger wine; an' what wi' the fumes o' the wine, as the poets say, an' the popular acclamations, I lost ma heid for the time bein', and consented to mak' the presentation on Thursday, the third prox."
"When?"
"This day week. An' noo I'm sorry."
"But ye can draw back yet, and let Danks get the job."
"A Ridhorn never draws back," said the painter, adding under his breath, "espaycially when there's a Danks in the field."
"Is the polisman to get his purse an' clock in a field?" inquired Willie. ”

“ Redhorn shook his head, and motioned the pot away, saying:
"Na, Wullie, I'll leave the cornice till the morn's mornin', and meantime I'll help ye wi' the skirtin'-board." He consulted his watch. "Five o'clock. Ay! we'll manage to feenish the skirtin'-board afore we knock off."
"Are ye—are ye feared to gang up the ladder again?" the boy inquired.
"I am that," the painter replied with a sigh. "But it's ma reputation mair nor ma neck that I'm feared for. The truth is, I'm no' in the humour for performin' delicate operations." ”

“ A polisman's is an honourable profession, though it involves mair boots nor brains. Still, I've nae doobt Samuel'll need to use his heid for a' it's worth when he gets to the city."
"But what aboot Danks? Would he no' put onything in the purse?"
"Oh, Danks subscribed his share. Gi'e the man credit for that. But the meetin' last nicht wasna entirely feenancial. In fac', the chief business was to choose the party that wud mak' the presentation, likewise a speech. That was where the trouble commenced, Wullie. They didna choose Danks."
"Wha did they choose?"
"Me," said the painter sadly. ”

“ We'll jist say he done his duty, an' then we'll congratulate him on his promotion to a wider sphere, which is tempered wi' unspeakable grief to think that his feet will never (D.V.) tread these hospitable shores again. ”