Another drink of the whisky, mon gars, and I'm yer friend for life.
The routhie bield that gars the gearIs gone where glint the pawky een.
The gars was to be a piou-piou instead of a col bleu, after all!
To the stick they tied a couple of frogs legs and some of the bones from the gars.
He was a handsome man, the finest "gars" in that part of Brittany.
It is true that ...