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"And if you think I'll have sthray dawgs in my kitchen you're very much mistook.... Aw, it's a darlin' wee thing, isn't it?" For the Scotty, seeing that she had seated herself, had jumped to her lap and now sat there, nose in air, looking superbly at home.
"Stay here till night! Impossible!" "Ay, lads! an' we must hide, too. Shure as you are livin' there'll be somebody afther this sthray kaymal, in a wee while, too, as ye'll see. If we ventured out durin' the daylight they'd be shure to see us from the 'ills.
'Tisn't fishin' for a sthray pratie he is, upon a ridge like this. But it can't be helped; an' God's will be done! Not himself! faix, it's he that'll get the height of good thratement, an' can ride home, well lined, both inside an' outside. Much good may it do him! 'tis but his right."
"But are you ladin' a dacenter or a more becominer life?" "Why, I think, widout doubt, that it's more becominer to walk about like a gintleman, nor to be workin' like a slave." "Gintleman! Musha, is it to the fair you're bringin' yourself? Why, you great big bosthoon, isn't it both a sin an' a shame to see you sailin' about among the neighbors, like a sthray turkey, widout a hand's turn to do?
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