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Bide ye a bit, though! WHAN he's gotten't, it's doon they're a' upo' their k-nees til 'im thegither. But gien they be prood, he's prooder, an' lat him ance get his heid up, an' rid o' the trustees, an' fowk upo' their marrow banes til 'im, haith, he'll lat them sit there, or I'm mistaen in 'im." "Then has my lady no companions at all?"
But, Lord, wha am I to speyk like that to thee, wha didst lat thine ain poor oot his verra sowl's bluid for him an' me!" "Father," said Cosmo, "I can du wi' watter as weel's onybody. Du ye think I'm nae mair o' a man nor to care what I pit intil me? Gien ye be puirer nor ever, I'm prooder nor ever to share wi' ye. Bide ye here, an' I'll jist rin an' get a drink, an' come back to ye."
When Christina was here the day, a wee paircel cam' for Macgreegor, an' when I opened it, there was a pair o' socks wi' wi' fondest love from Maggie. 'Hurray for Maggie! 'But, John, Christina read the words! 'Oho! John guffawed. 'She wudna like that eh? 'Man, what are ye laughin' at? Ye ken Christina's terrible prood. 'No ony prooder nor Macgreegor is o' her. Lizzie.
"Nane o' her ain dignity, like. Ye see she's naething but bonny. She HAS naething. An' though she's as guid a cratur as ever lived, the cauld grun' o' her poverty gaithers the fog o' an ill report. An' I'm thinkin' maybe she's the prooder for her poverty, an' winna gang til her inferriors sae lang as her aiquals dinna invete her.
"Na!" replied she, not to be imposed upon, "ye are statelier and prooder than this ane." "I will explain," said his master. "Saunders knows his value; a servant like Saunders is rarer than an idle viscount." "My lord, my lord!" remonstrated Saunders, with a shocked and most disclamatory tone. "Rather!" was his inward reflection. "Jean," said Christie, "ye hae muckle to laern.
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