This was scarcely what TAMMAS had expected. HENDRY was usually one of
his most devoted admirers. There was an awkward silence which made me
feel uncomfortable. I am only a poor Dominie, but some of my happiest
hours had been passed on the pig-sty. Were these merry meetings to
come to an end? PETE took up the talking.

"HENDRY, my man," he observed, as he helped himself out of TAMMAS'S
snuff-mull, "ye're ower kyow-owy. Ye ken humour's a thing 'at spouts
out o' its ain accord, an' there's no nae spouter in Thrums 'at can
match wi' TAMMAS."

He looked defiantly at HENDRY, who was engaged in searching for
coppers in his north-east-by-east-trouser pocket. T'NOWHEAD said
nothing, and HOOKEY was similarly occupied. At last, the stranger
spoke.

"Gentlemen," he began, "may I say a word? I may lay claim to some
experience in the matter. I travel in humour, and generally manage to
do a large business."

He looked round interrogatively. TAMMAS eyed him with one of his keen
glances. Then he worked his mouth round and round to clear the course
for a sarcasm.

"So you're the puir crittur," said the stone-breaker, "'at's meanin'
to be a humorist."

This was the challenge. We all knew what it meant, and fixed our eyes
on the stranger.