'Ye're in a hurry,' he now observed, and put the usual question:
'Ha'e ye a fag on ye?'

Macgregor obliged, saying as kindly as he could, 'I'll maybe see ye
later, Wullie.'

'Thon girl again, I suppose.'

'So long,' said Macgregor, shortly.

'Haud on a meenute. I want to speak to ye. Ha'e ye done it?'

'Ay, this mornin'. . . . An' I'm gey busy.'

'Ye should leave the weemen alane, an' then ye wud ha'e time to
spare.'

'What ha'e ye got to speak aboot?' Macgregor impatiently demanded,
though he was in good time for his appointment.

'I was thinkin' o' enlistin',' said Willie.

'Oh!' cried his friend, interested. 'Ye've changed yer mind,
Wullie?'

'I've been conseederin' it for a while back. Ye needna think _you_
had onything to dae wi' it,' said Willie.

'Ye've been drinkin' beer,' his friend remarked, not accusingly,