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Look at his nice wee baby's mooth, an' the smile on it too. It wad dazzle a hungry crocodile lookin' for its denner. His e'en are aye brighter than ony I ever saw an' speak! Guid God! He could speak for a hale June day. He's gran' at makin' your flesh creep.
Hopps reaching shelter, three boxes were offered Jamie. The group was still lost in admiration when Drumsheugh returned from his errand of mercy. "Sall, ye've dune the job this time. Jamie. Ye're an awfu' creetic. Yon man 'ill keep a quiet cheep till he gets Sooth. It passes me hoo a body wi' sae little in him hes the face tae open his mooth."
The anxious mother was counselling her young son regarding his behavior at the table of that excellent lady: 'An' mind, Macgreegor, ye're no' to be askin' fur jeely till ye've ett twa bits o' breed-an'-butter. It's no' mainners; an' yer Aunt Purdie's rale partecclar. An' yer no' to dicht yer mooth wi' yer cuff mind that. Ye're to tak' yer hanky an' let on ye're jist gi'ein' yer nib a bit wipe.
If I smoked 'bacco some night I should set my plaace afire, 'stead o' just rolling up a bit o' stoof and clapping it in my mooth." "I don't know what you mean, Dave," cried Dick. "Then I'll tell'ee, lad. Some un got smoking his pipe in one of they stables, and set it afire." "No, no; some one must have set fire to the stacks." "Nay!" cried Dave, staring in the lad's face with his jaw dropped.
His mooth juist opened an' shut twa or three times, an' he walked quick ben to the room. I cried oot to him to come back, but he didna come, so I sent Joey for him. I was sleepin' ill at the time, an' Hendry was ben sleepin' in the room wi' Leeby, Joey bein' wi' me. Ay, weel, one nicht I woke up in the dark an' put oot my hand to 'im, an' he wasna there.
'Lord, and they ca' ye an idiot, div they! exclaimed Marion Barclay. 'Weel, be ye or no, ye're ane o' the babes in wha's mooth he perfecteth praise! 'He'll du that some day, maybe! answered Steenie. 'But! eh, Steenie, pursued his mother, 'ye winna gang the nicht!
"'Is Saunders deein', doctor? she cries. 'Ye promised tae wauken me; dinna tell me it's a' ower. "'There's nae deein' aboot him, Bell; ye're no tae lose yir man this time, sae far as a' can see. Come ben an' jidge for yersel'. "Bell lookit at Saunders, and the tears of joy fell on the bed like rain. "'The shadow's lifted, she said; 'he's come back frae the mooth o' the tomb.
"'Will he never come? she cries, an' a' heard the soond o' the horse's feet on the road a mile awa in the frosty air. "'The Lord be praised! said Burnbrae, and a' slippit doon the ladder as the doctor came skelpin' intae the close, the foam fleein' frae his horse's mooth.
"'Oot o' the mooth o' babes and sucklin's! no that ye're jist that, Annie, but ye're no muckle mair. Sit ye doon aside me, and rax ower to the Bible, and jist read that hunner and saivent psalm. Eh, lassie! but the Lord is guid. Oh! that men wad praise him! An' to care for the praises o' sic worms as me! What richt hae I to praise him?" "Ye're richt, lassie, ye're richt.
If he disappoint you, then I dinna know a lad o' pairts when I see him, and the Doctor is with me." "Maister Jamieson," said Marget, with great solemnity, "ma hert's desire is to see George a minister, and if the Almichty spared me to hear ma only bairn open his mooth in the Evangel, I wud hae naething mair to ask ... but I doot sair it canna be managed."
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