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We're both front-rank men, me an' Jock, when the rig'ment's in 'ollow square, Bloomin' fine you'd look. 'The Lord giveth an' the Lord taketh awai, Heasy with that there drop! Blessed be the naime o' the Lord," he gulped in a quaint and suggestive fashion. "Mullins! Wot's Mullins?" said Learoyd, slowly. "Ah'd take a coomp'ny o' Mullinses ma hand behind me. Sitha, Mulvaney, don't be a fool."
We're both front-rank men, me an' Jock, when the rig'mint's in 'ollow square. Bloomin' fine you'd look. "The Lord giveth an' the Lord taketh awai, Heasy with that there drop! Blessed be the naime o' the Lord," he gulped in a quaint and suggestive fashion. 'Mullins! Wot's Mullins? said Learoyd slowly. 'Ah'd take a coomp'ny o' Mullinses-ma hand behind me. Sitha, Mulvaney, don't be a fool.
But, immediately after tea, within less than an hour, when the nurse brought her and placed her in the mother's arms, the Angel-Soul fled away. Poor Williag, seeing the mother's pathetic look, and as if she herself had been guilty, fell on her knees and cried, "I knew it, Missi, I knew it! She gave two big sighs, and went! Awai, Missi, Awai!"
One day she was induced to draw near the door, and fixing a hand on either post, and gazing inwards, she exclaimed, "Awái, Missi! Kái, Missi!" the Native cry for unspeakable wonder. Mrs. Paton began to play on the harmonium, and sang a simple hymn in the old woman's language. Manifestly charmed, she drew nearer and nearer, and drank in the music, as it were, at every pore of her being.
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