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Connor, Ralph, Pseudonym, 1860-1937

"Black Rock: a Tale of the Selkirks"

He spoke solemnly, as befitted a Scotsman
expressing a deliberate opinion, and carefully, as if choosing his best
English, for when Geordie became excited no one in Black Rock could
understand him.
'Maister Chairman,' said Geordie, 'I'm aye for temperance in a' things.'
There was a shout of laughter, at which Geordie gazed round in pained
surprise. 'I'll no' deny,' he went on in an explanatory tone, 'that I
tak ma mornin', an' maybe a nip at noon; an' a wee drap aifter wark in
the evenin', an' whiles a sip o' toddy wi' a freen thae cauld nichts.
But I'm no' a guzzler, an' I dinna gang in wi' thae loons flingin' aboot
guid money.'
'And that's thrue for you, me bye,' interrupted a rich Irish brogue, to
the delight of the crowd and the amazement of Geordie, who went calmly
on--
'An' I canna bide yon saloon whaur they sell sic awfu'-like stuff--it's
mair like lye nor guid whisky,--and whaur ye're never sure o' yer richt
change. It's an awfu'-like place; man!'--and Geordie began to warm
up--'ye can juist smell the sulphur when ye gang in.


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