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If you could have presented the colonel to me well, never mind. I presume the major is on the quee vive. 'He'll be ha'ein' a wash an' brush up, I wud say. 'But why are you not being drilled or digging up trenches or firing guns 'We're a' deid men this efternune. Had a big rout mairch the day. 'Oh, indeed! Well, when does the band play? 'The baun's burstit wi' the rout mairch.
Ye see we a' ken we ha'e dune wrang, but we ha'ena a' confessed. An' it's a queer thing, but a man'll think it gran' o' 's neebour to confess, whan a' the time there's something he winna repent o' himsel' for fear o' the shame o' ha'ein' to confess 't. To me, the shame lies in no confessin' efter ye ken ye're wrang. Ye'll see, sir, the fisher fowk 'll min' what ye say to them a heap better noo."
'He's maybe no as douce as ye think, said Lizzie under her breath. 'What's that? 'Naething, John. She sighed heavily. 'What's wrang, wife? 'I was wishin' we had a niece called Maggie. . . . I suppose it's nae use askin' if ye ever heard o' Macgreegor ha'ein' an acquaintance o' that name. 'Maggie? Weel, it's no what ye would call a unique name. But what 'Listen, John.
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