And the one she asked was no slow to say!  “I think this o’ Harry Lauder, buddies!” she declared, vehemently.  “I think it’s a dirty trick he’s played on me, the wee deeil.  I’m not sayin’ it was altogither his fault, though—­he’s not knowing he did it!”

“How was the way o’ that, Kirsty Lamont?” asked another.

“I’m tellin’ ye.  Fan the lassies came in frae the mull last nicht they flang their working things frae them as though they were mad.

“‘Fat’s all the stushie?’ I asked them.  They just leuch at me, and said they were hurryin’ so they could hear Harry Lauder sing.  They said he was the comic frae Glasga, and they asked me was I no gang wi’ them tae the Toon Ha’ to hear his concert.

“‘No,’ I says.  ’All the siller in the hoose maun gang for the rent, and it’s due on Setterday.  Fat wad the neighbors be sayin’ if they saw Kirsty Lamont gang to a concert in a rent week—­fashin’ aboot like that!’”

“But Phem—­that’s my eldest dochter, ye ken—­she wad ha’ me gang alang.  She bade me put on my bonnet and my dolman, and said she’d pay for me, so’s to leave the siller for the rent.  So I said I’d gang, since they were so keen like, and we set oot jist as John came hame for his tea.  I roort at him that he could jist steer for himself for a nicht.  And he asked why, and I said I was gang to hear Harry Lauder.

“’Damn Harry Lauder!” he answers, gey short.  “Ye’ll be sorry yet for this nicht’s work, Kirsty Lamont.  Leavin’ yer auld man tae mak’ his ain tea, and him workin’ syne six o’clock o’ the morn!’”

“I turn’t at that, for John’s a queer ane when he tak’s it intil’s head, but the lassies poo’d me oot th’ door and in twa-three meenits we were at the ha’.  Fat a crushin’ a fechtin’ the get in.  The bobby at the door saw me—­savin’ that we’d no ha’ got in.  But the bobby kens me fine—­I’ve bailed John oot twice, for a guinea ilka time, and they recognize steady customers there like anywheres else!

“The concert was fine till that wee man Harry came oot in his kilt.  And then, losh, I startit to laugh till the watter ran doon my cheeks, and the lassies was that mortified they wushed they had nae brocht me.  I’m no ane to laugh at a concert or a play, but that wee Harry made ithers laugh beside me, so I was no the only ane to disgrace mysel’.

“It was eleven and after when we got hame.  And there was no sogn o’ John.  I lookit a’ ower, and he wisna in the hoose.  Richt then I knew what had happened.  I went to the kist where I kep’ the siller for the rent.  Not a bawbee left!  He’ll be spendin’ it in the pubs this meenit I’m talkie’ to ye, and we’ll no see him till he hasna a penny left to his name.  So there’s what I think of yer Harry Lauder.  I wish I wis within half a mile o’ him this meenit, and I’d tell him what I thocht o’ him, instead o’ you!  It’s three months rent yer fine Harry Lauder has costit me!  Had he na been here in Kirrie last nicht de ye think I’d ever ha’ left the rent box by its lane wi’ a man like our Jock in the hoose?”