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Jock Binning came upon his crutches from the bench by the stream where he made a fishing-net. "A tempest's daundering up!" Elspeth rose. "I must go home I must get home before it comes!" "If ye'll bide, lassie, it may go by." "No, I cannot." She had brought to Mother Binning a basket heaped with bloomy plums. She took it up and set it on the table. "I'll get the basket when next I come.
Jardine, working upon the gold streak in a tulip, held her needle suspended and sat for a moment with unseeing gaze, then resumed the bright wreath. The tutor began to think again of Mother Binning, and, following this, of the stepping-stones at White Farm, and Elspeth and Gilian Barrow balanced above the stream of gold. Mr. Touris put up his snuff-box. "That's a fine youth!
And at times I am lazy and would just sit in the sun and be a fool." "Like to-day?" "Like to-day. And so," said Alexander, rising, "as I feel that way, I'll e'en be going on!" "I'm thinking that maist of the wise have inner tokens by which they ken the fule. I was ne'er afraid of folly," said Mother Binning. "It's good growing stuff!" Glenfernie laughed and left her and the drone of her wheel.
The icy water of the pool upon him was as nothing, and as he walked his face was still as a stone face in a desert. So he came with Elspeth's body back to the glen, and Mother Binning saw him coming. "Hech, sirs! Hech, sirs! Will it hae been that way will it hae been that way?" He stopped for a moment.
Even when in the depth of his woe at this time, some flashes of Binning's true spirit gleamed fitfully through his misery. One of those gleams was on the occasion of Dick Martin being rescued. Up to that period, since leaving Yarmouth, Binning had lain flat on his back.
Mother Binning had been working in the garden, but when she saw the figures on the path below she took her distaff and sat on the bench in the sun. When they came by she raised her voice. "Mr. Alexander, how are the laird and the leddy?" "They're very well, Mother." "Ye'll be gaeing sune to Edinburgh? Wha may be this laddie?" "It is Ian Rullock, of Black Hill."
That association had grown, Jonah's gourd-like, during the last six weeks, until, as he rather uneasily noted, the two were hardly ever apart. Luncheons, teas, picnics, excursions, succeeded one another. Afternoons of tennis in the hotel grounds, the athletic gregarious Binning and his two pupils, Peregrine Ditton and Harry Ellice in attendance.
Then across the strip of moonlit, to sleep my lone, under the hospitable teak roof-trees of "a Binning!" Here there seems to be a hiatus in these notes of mine it is rather a jump from the British India steamer to a Gymkhana dance? But such a break gives relief to the mind, and has sometimes even a dramatic effect.
Speak out!" He had that power of command that forced an answer. Jock Binning, crutched and with an elfish face and figure and voice, had pulled down upon himself the office of revelator. The group swayed a little from him and he was left facing White Farm and the laird of Glenfernie. He had a wailing, chanting, elvish manner of speech.
Arriving at a good-sized and comparatively well-to-do Mussulman village, I obtain an ample supper of eggs and pillau, and, after binning over and over again until the most unconscionable Turk among them all can bring himself to importune me no more, I obtain a little peace.
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