Erchie My Droll Friend

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Excerpt: 'On Sundays he is the beadle of our church; at other times he waits. In his ecclesiastical character there is a solemn dignity about his deportment that compels most of us to call him Mr MacPherson; in his secular hours, when passing the fruit at a city banquet, or when at the close of the repast he sweeps away the fragments of the dinner-rolls, and whisperingly expresses in your left ear a fervent hope that yeve enjoyed your dinner, he is simply Erchie. Once I forgot, deluded a moment into a Sunday train of thought by his reverent way of laying down a bottle of Pommery, and called him Mr MacPherson. He reproved me with a glance of his eye. Theres nae Mr MacPhersons here, said he afterwards; at whit ye might call the social board Im jist Erchie, or whiles Easy-gaun Erchie wi them that kens me langest. Theres sae mony folks in this world dont like to hurt your feelings that if I was kent as Mr MacPherson on this kind o job I wadna mak enough to pay for starchin my shirts.' (Excerpt from Wikipedia)

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