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Coming home with a great grand purple foxglove in his hand, he met some of the missionars returning from their chapel, and amongst the rest Robert Bruce, who stopped and spoke. "I'm surprised to see ye carryin' that thing o' the Lord's day, Mr Cupples. Fowk'll think ill o' ye."
"O Faithful and True," he broke out once more as he reached his own house; but checked himself abruptly, saying, "Tut, tut, the fowk'll think I hae been drinkin'! Eh," he continued to himself as he went in, "gien I micht but ance hear the name that no man kens but Himsel!"
Jeames Doo, ye dinna ken jokin' frae jeistin'. I never was the man to set mysel' i' the face o' onything rizzonable. But ye see it wad be cast up to the haill o' 's that we had driven the puir lassie oot o' the hoose, and syne flung her things efter her." "The tane ye hae dune. The tither ye shanna do, for I'll tak them. And I'll tell ye what fowk'll say gin ye dinna gie up the things.
for the wind'll be doon then, I'm hopin'. "The fowk'll think it strange, for they a' ken my convictions, sae ye'd better close wi' a paraphrase: "'Then will He own His servant's name Before His father's face. That wad dae fine, for it's a' o' grace thegither."
"That's richt, my man," responded his father with satisfaction. Here followed another gulp from the mug. The threat had conveyed nothing to Gibbie. Even had he understood, it would have carried anything but terror to his father-worshipping heart. "Gibbie," resumed Sir George, after a brief pause, "div ye ken what fowk'll ca' ye whan I'm deid?"
Gin ye think that fowk'll haud their tongues about your bairn mair nor ony ither body's bairn ye're mista'en, mem. But never ane heard o' 't frae me, and I can tak' my bodily aith for my man, for he's jist by ordinar' for haudin' his tongue. I cud hardly worm it oot o' 'm mysel'." Mrs Forbes saw that she had been too hasty.
"There may be waur things nor a bit lee. Whan they hear that at that time ye gae birth till a lad bairn, the whilk was stown awa', an' never hard tell o' till noo 'It may weel be, fowk'll say: 'them 'at has drunk wad drink again! It wad affoord rizzons, ye see, an' guid anes, for the bairn bein' putten oot a' sicht, and wad mak the haul story mair nor likly i' the jeedgment o' a' 'at hard it."
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