MRS. McOSTRICH ENTERTAINS

'I'm fed up wi' pairties,' was Macgregor's ungracious response when
informed at home of the latest invitation. 'I dinna ask for leave
jist for to gang to a rotten pairty.'

'Ay, ye've mair to dae wi' yer leave,' his father was beginning,
with a wink, when his mother, with something of her old asperity,
said:

'Macgreegor, that's no the way to speak o' pairties that folk gi'e
in yer honour. An' you, John, should think shame o' yersel'. Ye
should baith be sayin' it's terrible kind o' Mistress McOstrich to
ask ye what nicht wud suit yer convenience.'

Macgregor regarded his mother almost as in the days when he
addressed her as 'Maw'--yet not quite. There was a twinkle in his
eye. Evidently she had clean forgotten he had grown up! Possibly
she detected the twinkle and perceived her relapse, for she went on
quickly--

'Though dear knows hoo Mistress McOstrich can afford to gi'e a
pairty wi' her man's trade in its present condeetion.'

'She's been daft for gi'ein' pah-ties since ever I can mind,' Mr.
Robinson put in, 'an' the Kaiser hissel' couldna stop her, Still,
Macgreegor, she's an auld frien', an' it wud be a peety to offend
her. Ye'll be mair at hame there nor ye was at yer Aunt Purdie's
swell affair. Dod, Lizzie, thon was a gorgeous banquet! I never
tasted as much nor ett as little; I never heard sich high-class