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John was never quite sure whether I meant to mak' some o' the shots, but he was a polite laddie, and he'd no like to be accusing his faither o' just being lucky. "Did ye mean that shot, pal" he'd ask me, sometimes. I'd aye say yes, and, in a manner o' speaking, I had. Aweel, yon days canna come again! But it's gude to think upon them.
'Aweel, Duncan did ye say your name was Duncan, or Donald? 'Na, man Jamie Jamie Steenson I telt ye before. This last undaunted parry altogether foiled Mr. Cruickshanks, who, though not quite satisfied either with the reserve of the master or the extreme readiness of the man, was contented to lay a tax on the reckoning and horse-hire that might compound for his ungratified curiosity.
"Aweel, it may be sae; but we canna howk fort enow we hae nae shules, for they hae taen them a' awa and it's like some o' them will be sent back to fling the earth into the hole, and mak a' things trig again.
Aweel, to mak a lang tale short, up cam my young Lord Evandale, skelping as fast as his horse could trot, and twenty red-coats at his back. Twa or three chields wad needs fight, wi' the pistol and the whinger in the tae hand, and the Bible in the tother, and they got their crouns weel cloured; but there wasna muckle skaith dune, for Evandale aye cried to scatter us, but to spare life."
"That'll be it," said he. "Then I'll gang there straight," says I. "But ye'll be for a bite or ye go?" said he. "Neither bite nor sup," said I. "I had a good waucht of milk in by Ratho." "Aweel, aweel," says Doig. "But ye'll can leave your horse here and your bags, for it seems we're to have your up-put." "Na, na," said I. "Tamson's mear would never be the thing for me this day of all days."
"Aweel," said Alan, "say nae mair." And we fell back into our former silence; and came to our journey's end, and supped, and lay down to sleep, without another word. The gillie put us across Loch Rannoch in the dusk of the next day, and gave us his opinion as to our best route.
The baddish boy entered, took up a position and remained apparently passive, hands in pockets. Christie. "Aweel, what est?" Flucker. "Custy." Christie. "What's your will, my manny?" Flucker. "Custy, I was at Inch Keith the day." Christie. "And hae ye really come to Edinbro' to tell me thaat?" "Oh! ye ken the lasses are a hantle wiser than we are will ye hear me?
Endeavouring, therefore, to assume his usual cajoling tone, though internally incensed, he begged "his goot friend Maister Edie Ochiltrees would lead the way, and assured him of his acquiescence in all such an excellent friend could propose." "Aweel, aweel, then," said Edie, "tak gude care o' your feet amang the lang grass and the loose stones.
Some of the men scowled at him. "Is that smoke?" I asked, sharply. "Answer me, McCraw!" "A canna' deny it," he said, with a mad chuckle. "Is it Indian smoke?" demanded Van Horn. "Aweel," he replied, craning his skinny neck and cocking his head impudently "aweel, a'll admit that, too. It's Indian smoke; a canna deny it, no." "Is it a Mohawk signal?" I asked, bluntly.
"Aweel, aweel, Maggie, ilka land has its ain lauch But where's Steenie the night, when a's come and gane? And where's the gudeman?"* "I hae putten the gudeman to his bed, for he was e'en sair forfain; and Steenie's awa out about some barns-breaking wi' the auld gaberlunzie, Edie Ochiltree: they'll be in sune, and ye can sit doun."
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