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I read it written on the faces of the men who strode with martial tread around the last sad resting-place Of him they loved their chief, the dauntless General Wauchope. Vengeance spoke in the sombre fire that blazed in every Scotsman's eye.
Without waiting for further remark from either side, the man then hastened some yards along the path and took up a position where he could kneel and steady his gun arm on a boulder, and hardly had the several positions been taken up when with roar and clatter and cloud the stampede rounded the opposite hill-spur. Crack! went the Scotsman's repeater. Crack! crack!
And it will smell sweet as a Scotsman's paradise, with bog myrtle and peat." "I too have often wanted to see Galloway," said Mrs. James, "even before I read the Crockett books; for the doctor devoted a particularly interesting chapter to its history. I remember well, the ancient name was most romantic: Gallgaidhel, for the country of the stranger Gaels.
Lend me one." The Scotsman's face lighted inquisitively, till he comprehended. Then he shook his head and started on again. Frona scrambled to her feet. "What's the matter?" "Nothing. Sit down." "But what is the matter?" Corliss put his hands on her shoulders and pressed her back. "Your feet. You can't go on in such shape. They're in ribbons. See!"
He desired first to cripple her completely, then to finish her with the Maxim guns. "Now, let's see what that Scotsman's worth," he cried, as he laid down his cigar, and spoke through one of the tubes. Almost with his words the tower shook with the thunder, the twenty-nine ton gun in the fore turret belched forth flame, and the hissing shell struck the steamer over her very magazine.
There is scarcely a man of them who does not show some scars of wounds received in these turmoils, some apparently so deep that it is marvellous how they ever recovered from them. Their costume is very simple. The men, who despise trousers, wear a single sheet of long-cloth, eight cubits long, thrown over the shoulder, much after the fashion of the Scotsman's plaid.
It is not a melodious name, but there it is! And it somehow expresses the Scotsman's character better than 'Tommy' does. He cannot be carried down the communication trench because it zigzags too much: he cannot be got round the angles. So he is taken into a dug-out and gets first aid, and a tablet of morphine perhaps.
The Scotsman advanced with long and rapid strides, looking neither to the right hand nor to the left. But the gray shadow glided on behind him, so near that it seemed as though it would whisper something in his ear. Torarin drove slowly on till he came abreast of them. Then he could see the Scotsman's face in the bright moonlight.
"What's the use?" With a great effort he seemed to pull himself together. He raised his eyes, and the pitiful half smile in them wrung the Scotsman's heart. "Say, Doc, I'm kind of glad it was you handed me this. It's hurt you, too. Hurt you pretty bad. Yes," he went on wearily, hopelessly, "pretty bad. But I got to thank you. Oh, yes. I want to thank you. I mean that.
Wilberforce and Newman never cleared themselves of the suspicion of indirectness. This was, however, after the opening of the Oxford Movement. The period from 1820 to 1850 was one of religious and intellectual activity in Scotland as well. Tulloch depicts with a Scotsman's patriotism the movement which centres about the names of Erskine and Campbell.
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