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Tammy ventured the opinion that it might be some kind of a cart for lame laddies to ride in. "A picnic is when ye gang gypsying in the summer," Mr. Traill explained. "Ye walk to a bonny green brae, an' sit doon under a hawthorntree a' covered wi' posies, by a babblin' burn, an' ye eat oot o' yer ain hands. An' syne ye hear a throstle or a redbreast sing an' a saucy blackbird whustle."
"'Na, na, says Davie, 'but it's the fast day, an' I canna stand it ony longer. I'm gaun ower the burn to hae a whustle. Wasna that fair redeek'lus!" "Quite ingenious," answered Mr. Blake. "You go to that church, I suppose?" "Na, I dinna. I quit it when they brocht the kist o' whustles intill't. I wadna stand it.
At the same time Fergus caught hold of the bow of the enemy's canoe with an iron grasp, and, giving it a heave that might have put Samson to shame, fairly overturned it. "Ye can wet your whustle now whatever," he muttered. As he spoke, the canoe ran with extreme violence against the invisible bank. At the same moment a random volley was fired from the canoes in rear.
So I think I've a richt to be proud of having invented melodies that have been sung all over the world, considering how I had no musical education at a'. Certainly it's the melody that has muckle tae do wi' the success of any song. Words that just aren't quite richt will be soon overlooked if the melody is one o' the sort the boys in the gallery pick up and whustle as they gae oot.
The throstles nest there, an' the blackbirds whustle bonny. It isna so far but the bairnies could march oot wi' posies." She turned to the lady, who had overheard her. "We gied a promise to the Laird Provost to gie Bobby a grand funeral. Ye ken he wullna be permittet to be buried i' the kirkyaird." "Will he not? I had not thought of that." Her tone was at once hushed and startled.
"That's oor bell i' the parish kirk; there's no ither ane." "What is it ringing for? To-day is Thursday," asked Mr. Blake. "Aye," responded the other, "this is the fast day. Sabbath's the sacrament, ye ken, and they're maist awfu' strict aboot the fast day. They wadna work that day, nae mair than on the Sabbath. They willna even whustle. Ae mornin' I met Davie Drewry, an' 'twas the fast day.
"A' thocht for aboot three seconds he was acceptin' the challenge o' the Glasca' Ganymede A'm no' so sure o' Ganymede; A' got him oot of the sairculatin' library an' he was verra dull except the bit wheer he went oop in the air on the back of an eagle an' dropped his whustle. But MacMuller wasn't so full o' ficht as a' that." He walked away, but stopped and came back. "A'm a Wee Kirker," he said.
'Gang to the ga'le o' the hoose there, Shargar, and jist keek roon' the neuk at me; and gin I whustle upo' ye, come up as quaiet 's ye can. Gin I dinna, bide till I come to ye. Robert opened the door cautiously.
Blin' as my gran'father is, ye wad sweer he had fochten in 's day, gien ye hard hoo he'll gar't whurr an' whustle aboot 's heid as gien 't war a bit lath o' wud." "But that's very dangerous," said Florimel, something aghast at the recital. "Ow, ay!" assented Malcolm, indifferently, "Gien ye wad luik in, my leddy, I wad lat ye see his claymore, an' his dirk, an' his skene dhu, an' a'."
"I put my penny, and whiles my saxpence, intil the plate at the door when I gang to the kirk an' I was jist thinkin' I wad win there the morn's nicht at farest, whan I turnt an' saw ye stan'in there, sir; an' little I thoucht but that's neither here nor there, I'm thinkin'. I tell as feow lees as I can; I never sweir, nor tak the name o' the Lord in vain, anger me 'at likes; I sell naething but the best whusky; I never hae but broth to my denner upo' the Lord's day, an' broth canna brak the Sawbath, simmerin' awa' upo' the bar o' the grate, an' haudin' no lass frae the kirk; I confess, gien ye wull be speirin', 'at I dinna read my buik sae aften as maybe I sud; but, 'deed, sir, tho' I says't 'at sud haud my tongue, ye hae waur folk i' yer perris nor Benjie Croale's widow; an' gien ye wunna hae a drap to weet yer ain whustle for the holy wark ye hae afore ye the morn's mornin', I maun gang an' mak my bed, for the lass is laid up wi' a bealt thoom, an' I maunna lat a' thing gang to dirt an' green bree; though I'm sure it's rale kin' o' ye to come to luik efter me, an' that's mair nor Maister Rennie, honest gentleman, ever did me the fawvour o', a' the time he ministered the perris.
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