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Saddletree," said Bartoline, with an air of consequence, "dinna deave me wi' your nonsense; I was under the necessity of being elsewhere non omnia as Mr. Crossmyloof said, when he was called by two macers at once non omnia possumus pessimus possimis I ken our law-latin offends Mr. Butler's ears, but it means, Naebody, an it were the Lord President himsell, can do twa turns at ance."
Havena I missed the chance to turn out as clarissimus an ictus, as auld Grunwiggin himself? Whatfor dinna ye speak, Mr. Butler? Wad I no hae been a clarissimus ictus? Eh, man?" "I really do not understand you, Mr. Saddletree," said Butler, thus pushed hard for an answer. His faint and exhausted tone of voice was instantly drowned in the sonorous bray of Bartoline. "No understand me, man?
The pious, sturdy Cameronian father and the two clearly contrasted sisters: Butler, the clergyman lover; the saddle-maker, Saddletree, for an amusing, long-winded bore; the quaint Laird Dumbledikes; the soldiers of fortune, George Wilson and his mate; that other soldier, Porteous; the gang of evildoers with Madge in the van a wonderful creation, she, only surpassed by the better known Meg the high personages clustered about the Queen: loquacious Mrs.
"Ay, to be sure," said Saddletree; "the family may be considered as limited to them twa now, just as if Effie had never been in the tailzie, puir thing. But, Jeanie lass, what brings you out to Liberton sae air in the morning, and your father lying ill in the Luckenbooths?" "I had a message frae my father to Mr.
Saddletree. Reuben Butler was of English extraction, though born in Scotland. His grandfather was a trooper in Monk's army, and one of the party of dismounted dragoons which formed the forlorn hope at the storming of Dundee in 1651.
Saddletree," retorted Deans, "I ken ye are one of those that are wise after the manner of this world, and that ye hand your part, and cast in your portion, wi' the lang heads and lang gowns, and keep with the smart witty-pated lawyers of this our land Weary on the dark and dolefu' cast that they hae gien this unhappy kingdom, when their black hands of defection were clasped in the red hands of our sworn murtherers: when those who had numbered the towers of our Zion, and marked the bulwarks of Reformation, saw their hope turn into a snare, and their rejoicing into weeping."
"Ye may say what ye will o' the General Assembly," said Saddletree, interrupting him, "and let them clear them that kens them; but as for the Lords o' Session, forby that they are my next-door neighbours, I would have ye ken, for your ain regulation, that to raise scandal anent them, whilk is termed to murmur again them, is a crime sui generis, sui generis, Mr. Deans ken ye what that amounts to?"
Instead of firing on the figure in the buckboard, Kid Wolf wheeled his horse about quickly, and turned sidewise in his saddle in order to make as small a target as possible. The shotgun roared. Spurts of sand were flecked up all around The Kid and the big white horse winced and jumped as a ball smashed the saddletree a glancing blow. Another slug went through the Texan's hat brim.
Saddletree, as she returned with her bottle in her hand "She is no sae auld, but she got a sair back-cast wi' the slaughter o' her husband Ye had some trouble about that job, Mr. Butler. I think, sir," to Sir George, "ye had better drink out the haill glass, for to my een ye look waur than when ye came in."
Saddletree, who entered immediately afterwards, overwhelmed him with questions, which he answered without understanding them, and with legal disquisitions, which conveyed to him no iota of meaning.
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