United States or Niger ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Last night she would haf made a puoy of his skin like any other tog's skin, and totay no, my son, it wass a fery efil tream. And to be tolt tat ta creat tefil, Clenlyon herself, was not fery much tamned! it wass a fery efil tream, my son." "Weel, daddy maybe ye 'll tak it for ill news, but ye killed naebody." "Tid she'll not trive her turk into ta tog?" cried Duncan fiercely. "Och hone! och hone!
"She 'll be hafing an efil tream, my son Malcolm," he said; "or it was 'll pe more than a tream.
"Take her pipes, my laty, for fear anything paad should happen to tem." She led him hurriedly to the door. But ere he had quite crossed the threshold he shivered and drew back. "Tis is an efil house," he said. "She 'll not can co in." A great floundering racket was going on above, mingled with growls and shrieks, but there was no howling. "Call the dog then.
Tere is no pot in hell teep enough to put him in! 'Ten tey must make haste and tig one, says herself; 'for she 'll pe hangt in a tay or two. So she 'll wake up, and beholt it was a tream!" "An' no sic an ill dream efter a', daddy!" said Malcolm. "Not an efil tream, my son, when it makes her aalmost wish that she hadn't peen quite killing ta tog!
"It is plood!" he cried; "ta efil woman's plood!" "Keep him out, Duncan dear," said Lady Florimel. "I will go and see. There! he'll be up again if you don't mind!"
When Malcolm came to Mrs Catanach's assertion that she knew more of him than he did himself "Then she peliefs ta voman does, my poy. We are aall poth of us in ta efil voman's power," said Duncan sadly. "Never a hair, daddy!" cried Malcolm. "A' pooer 's i' the han's o' ane, that's no her maister. Ken she what she likes, she canna pairt you an' me, daddy." "God forpid!" responded Duncan.
How came it to grow in this way?" "I know not. It is zought zat zey spring from a seed dropped by a bird into zee fork of anozer tree. Zee seed grows, sends his roots down ant his branches up. Ven his roots reach zee ground he lays hold, ant, ven strong enough, kills his support zus returning efil for good, like a zankless dependent. Ah! zere is much resemblance between plants and animals!
"Malcolm!" he said, in a broken and hollow voice, not to be recognized as his, "Malcolm, my eagle of the crag! my hart of the heather! was it yourself she stapped with her efil hand, my son? Tid she'll pe hurting her own poy! She'll nefer wear turk more. Och hone! Och hone!" He turned, and, with bowed head seeking his chair, seated himself and wept. Lady Florimel's anger vanished.
The hand that was fondling his curls withdrew as if a serpent had bit it, and Duncan rose from his chair. "Wass it her own son to pe speaking such an efil thing?" he said, in a tone of injured and sad expostulation. "For onything ye ken, daddy ye canna tell but it mith be."
Malcolm, my poy," he added after a pause, and with the solemnity of a mighty hate, "ta efil woman herself will pe a Cam'ell ta woman Catanach will pe a Cam'ell, and her nainsel' she'll not know it pefore she'll be in ta ped with ta worstest Cam'ell tat ever God made; and she pecks his pardon, for she'll not pelieve He wass making ta Cam'ells." "Divna ye think God made me, daddy?" asked Malcolm.
Word Of The Day