United States or Papua New Guinea ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
As if tey couldn't know ta silfer from ta prass! If tey wass so stupid, her nose would pe telling tem so. Efen old Tuncan's knife 'll pe knowing petter than to scratch ta silfer or ta prass either; old Tuncan's knife would pe scratching nothing petter tan ta skin of a Cawmill."
Many toasts followed, one of which, "Damnation to the dogfish," gave opportunity to a wag, seated near the piper, to play upon the old man's well known foible by adding, "an' Cawmill o' Glenlyon;" whereupon Duncan, who had by this time taken more whisky than was good for him, rose, and made a rambling speech, in which he returned thanks for the imprecation, adding thereto the hope that never might one of the brood accursed go down with honour to the grave.
"I have news of Vavasour," whispered he. "I have a letter from him. Bowie, order me a car instantly for Bangor. I am off to London, Claude. You and Bowie will take care of my things, and send them after me." "Major Cawmill has only to command," said Bowie, and vanished down the stairs. "Now, Claude, quick; read that and counsel me.
He hears them, and he feels them, and indeed has generally more kindness from them because of his affliction." "Frae some o' them, mem; but it's little kin'ness my gran'father has expairienced frae Cawmill o' Glenlyon, mem." "And just as little injury, I should suppose," said Mrs Courthope. But supposin' ye to be richt, what I say's to the pint for a' that I maun jist explain a wee.
"I don't think I could venture. He's too dreadful! I should be terrified at him." "Dreidfu' my leddy? He's the quaietest, kin'liest auld man I that is, providit ye say naething for a Cawmill, or agen ony ither hielanman.
"He's her own poy!" cried the piper, much comforted; and his hand sought his head, and lighted gently upon it. "Put, maype," he went on, "she might not haf loved you so much if she hadn't peen tinking sometimes " He checked himself. Malcolm's questions brought no conclusion to the sentence, and a long silence followed. "Supposin' I was to turn oot a Cawmill?" said Malcolm, at length.
"Ton't preathe it, my son!" cried Duncan in a voice of agony, as if he saw unfolding a fearful game the arch enemy had been playing for his soul. "Put it cannot pe," he resumed instantly, "for ten how should she pe loving you, my son?" "'Cause ye was in for that afore ye kent wha the puir beastie was." "Ta tarling chilt! she could not haf loved him if he had peen a Cawmill.
"Tid you'll hear me, my laty?" he asked in a tone of reflection, as if trying to recall the circumstance. "Indeed I did. You frightened me so that I didn't dare come in." "Ten she'll pe punished enough. Put it wass no harm to curse ta wicket Cawmill." "It was not Glenlyon it wasn't a man at all; it was a woman you were in such a rage with."
Her soul would haf chumped pack from him as from ta snake in ta tree. Ta hate in her heart to ta plood of ta Cawmill, would have killed ta chilt of ta Cawmill plood. No, Malcolm! no, my son!" "No, Malcolm; I would haf put my foot upon it, as I would on ta young fiper in ta heather." "Gien I was to turn oot ane o' that ill race, ye wad hate me, than, daddy efter a'! Ochone, daddy!
But he must comfort the old man first, and think about what he had said afterwards. "Ye're my ain daddy, whatever ye are!" he said. "Tell me a' aboot it, daddy." "She 'll tell you all she 'll pe knowing, my son, and she nefer told a lie efen to a Cawmill." He began his story in haste, as if anxious to have it over, but had to pause often from fresh outbursts of grief.
Word Of The Day