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Oor air hes a bit nip in't, and is mair searchin' than doon Sooth. Jamie 'ill be speirin' a' mornin' gin ye 'ill answer him, but a'm thinkin' ye'ill be warmer in the kirk." And Drumsheugh escorted Mr. Hopps to cover, who began to suspect that he had been turned inside out, and found wanting. Drumtochty had listened with huge delight, but without a trace of expression, and, on Mr.
"Geranniums!" cried Howieson, who was immensely tickled; "it cowes a'. An' what was the ither flooer 'herbarries'? It's michty; it'ill be poppies an' mustard seed next. Speug, ye'ill be making a book for a present to Bulldog." "Tak care o' yirsel," Bauldie shouted to the Dowbiggins, who were making off, as mass meetings did not agree with them, "an' see ye dinna wet yir feet or dirty yir hands.
She took the Dominie's hand, and said to him, "Under God this was your doing, Maister Jamieson, and for your reward ye'ill get naither silver nor gold, but ye hae a mither's gratitude." Whinnie gave a hoarse chuckle and said to his wife, "It was frae you, Marget, he got it a'."
Ye'ill get yir wheeps at home if ye do. Give us a bit o' Byles, Nestie," and then there was instant silence, for Nestie had a nice little trick of mimicry which greatly endeared him to a school where delicate gifts were rare. "S-silence, if you please," and Nestie held up his hand with Mr. Byles's favourite polite deprecating gesture. "I hear a smile.
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