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Updated: June 20, 2025
"Wark, stir, wark, and a service, is my object a bit beild for my mither and mysell we hae gude plenishing o' our ain, if we had the cast o' a cart to bring it down and milk and meal, and greens enow, for I'm gay gleg at meal-time, and sae is my mither, lang may it be sae And, for the penny-fee and a' that, I'll just leave it to the laird and you.
Weel, Rob cam hame, and fand desolation, God pity us! where he left plenty; he looked east, west, south, north, and saw neither hauld nor hope neither beild nor shelter; sae he e'en pu'd the bonnet ower his brow, belted the broadsword to his side, took to the brae-side, and became a broken man."* * An outlaw. The voice of the good citizen was broken by his contending feelings.
That he suffered at Wolfenbuettel is true; but was it nothing to be in love and in debt at the same time, and to feel that his fruition of the one must be postponed for uncertain years by his own folly in incurring the other? If the sparrow-life must end, surely a wee bush is better than nae beild. One cause of Lessing's occasional restlessness and discontent Herr Stahr has failed to notice.
He'll be out a' day at the craig watchin' solans, or lyin' a' mornin' i' the moss lookin' at bog-blitters." "Will he help, think you?" "I'll wager he'll help. Onyway it's your best chance, and better a wee bush than nae beild. Now, sit in to your breakfast." It was a merry meal. Mrs. Morran dispensed tea and gnomic wisdom.
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