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"Come, come, never grudge so much at it, man," said the brave-spirited Englishman, with the placability of his country; "shake hands, and we will be better friends than ever." "Friends!" exclaimed Robin Oig with strong emphasis "friends! Never. Look to yourself, Harry Waakfelt."
You, Harry Waakfelt, showed me to-day how the Saxon churls fight; I show you now how the Highland Dunnie-wassel fights."
"It is only a d d Scotsman," said Fleecebumpkin, who was by this time very drunk, "whom Harry Wakefield helped to his broth to-day, who is now come to have HIS CAULD KAIL het again." "Harry Waakfelt," repeated the same ominous summons, "stand up, if you be a man!" There is something in the tone of deep and concentrated passion, which attracts attention and imposes awe, even by the very sound.
Put I maun pe wishing you goot night, and twenty of them, let alane ane, and I maun down to the Clachan to see if the lad Harry Waakfelt is out of his humdudgeons yet." The party at the alehouse were still in full talk, and the treachery of Robin Oig still the theme of conversation, when the supposed culprit entered the apartment.
"Na, na, Hughie Morrison is no the man for pargains ye maun come to some Highland body like Robin Oig hersell for the like of these; put I maun be wishing you good night, and twenty of them, let alane ane, and I maun down to the Clachan to see if the lad Henry Waakfelt is out of his humdudgeons yet."
Harry Waakfelt kens where he is wranged, he kens where he may be righted." "He speaks truth," said Wakefield, who had listened to what passed, divided between the offence which he had taken at Robin's late behaviour, and the revival of his habitual feelings of regard. He now rose, and went towards Robin, who got up from his seat as he approached, and held out his hand.
when he was interrupted by a well-known voice saying in a high and stern voice, marked by the sharp Highland accent, "Harry Waakfelt if you be a man stand up!" "What is the matter? what is it?" the guests demanded of each other.
"It was no coward's legs or hands, Harry Waakfelt, that drew you out of the fords of Frew, when you was drifting ower the plack rock, and every eel in the river expected his share of you." "And that is true enough, too," said the Englishman, struck by the appeal.
"It was no coward's legs or hands, Harry Waakfelt, that drew you out of the fords of Fried, when you was drifting ower the place rock, and every eel in the river expected his share of you." "And that is true enough, too," said the Englishman, struck by the appeal.
"Come, come, never grudge so much at it, man," said the brave-spirited Englishman, with the placability of his country; "shake hands, and we will be better friends than ever." "Friends!" exclaimed Robin Oig with strong emphasis "friends! Never. Look to yourself, Harry Waakfelt."
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