Ah, the braw laddies!

Claret was there in plentytoo plentiful perhaps; but surely the "braw drink" was well bestowed, for with it came the droll story, the playful attack and ready retort, the cheerful laughalways good humour.

" "He's not ower strang yet; ye ken that by lukin' at 'im; but he's a braw lad, a braw lad.

Perhaps it is because we are in the reading and writing age that our boys and girls must become "braw, braw clerks," instead of living on and by the land.

It was in Kirremuir, and there'd been a braw concert the nicht before.

"May the gude God o' heaven sain you," he said "and ferd you for aye, for the braw deed ye hae dreed the day; tak' this wee ring, gudemon, and tak' ye this ane, gudewife, and when ye look on this and on that, I rede ye render up are prayer to him abune for the weal o' Charles Edward, your unfortunate prince.

We begin to tremble for your braw jewels, Steenie.

A braw laddiebut what he micht be!"

The story is by some supposed to have had a Scottish origin, and a prosaic North Briton is made to say that the pretty little lambs, sporting amidst the daisies and buttercups, would "mak braw pies.

They tell us that's a braw song!" We were not really supposed to give any roadside concerts that day, but how was I to resist them?

Ye've done a braw thing, an' ye're through the worst o' it; but ye'll find a hard path yet, an' ye'll need a stout hert.

and doesna our honoured provost mean to desert, for a day o' glory, his braw wife, that he may deck her wimple wi' the roses o' England, and her name wi' a Scotch title?

"Tak' your certie o' that my braw callant," said I, "ne'er sail it be tauld o' Jamie Mc-Dougall, that he steeked his door again the puir and hauseless, an the bluidy sleuth hounds be on ye they'se find it ill aneugh I trow to get an inkling o' ye frae me, I'se sune shaw 'em the cauld shouther.

Besides this "braw wooer," we have another intruder upon our privacy.

" "Ye're aye cute, dame," I cried, thrawing the bit gy abune, and in a gliffing, doun jumpit the chiel, and a braw chiel he was sure enough, siccan my auld e'en sall ne'er see again, wi' his brent brow and buirdly bowk wrappit in a tartan plaid, wi' a Highland kilt.

Sma' need has he to say a grace, Or melvie his braw claithing!