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"I'll no' waste precious time," he said, after a moment's consideration with himself, "in brushing awa' the fawse breath o' scandal, when it passes my way. It blaws to nae purpose, my young leddy, when it blaws on an honest man like me. Fie for shame on ye for saying what ye've joost said to me that was a fether to ye at Craig Fernie! Wha' set ye on to it?
At least, I would have remained in ignorance of its grandeur and beauty." "That proves the truth of the south-country sayin', sir, `It's an ill wind that blaws nae guid."
"She cared na mair aboot the chield nor I did mysel'. She dwyned, I grant ye, an' he gaed awa, I grant ye; but the win' blaws an' the water rins, an the tane has little to du wi' the tither." "Weel, weel; I'm sorry I said onything to offen' ye, an' I canna say mair. Wi' yer leave, Miss Horn, I'll jist gang an' tak' a last leuk at her, puir thing!"
But it's an ill wind blaws naebody gude Let ilka ane roose the ford as they find it I say let Glasgow flourish! whilk is judiciously and elegantly putten round the town's arms, by way of by-word. Now, since St. Mungo catched herrings in the Clyde, what was ever like to gar us flourish like the sugar and tobacco trade?
As Peter remarked gravely, "it's an ill wund that blaws naebody guid!" A robust and earnest nation cannot be subdued by persecution. The more the Council tyrannised over and trampled upon the liberties of the people of Scotland, the more resolutely did the leal-hearted and brave among them resist the oppressors. It is ever thus.
But it's an ill wind blaws naebody gude Let ilka ane roose the ford as they find it I say let Glasgow flourish! whilk is judiciously and elegantly putten round the town's arms, by way of by-word. Now, since St. Mungo catched herrings in the Clyde, what was ever like to gar us flourish like the sugar and tobacco trade?
'The westlin wind blaws loud an' shill; The night's baith mirk and rainy, O: But I'll get my plaid, an' out I'll steal, An' owre the hills to Nannie, O. According to Gilbert, the poet himself was constantly the victim of some fair enslaver, although, being jealous of those richer than himself, he was not aspiring in his loves.
He's allus a bawlin' an' squealin', poor sawl, but you can awnly hear en now an' again 'fore a storm when the gale blaws his hollerin' this way." "Who was Tregagle?" "He was a lawyer man wance, an' killed a many wives, an' did a many shameful deeds 'fore he went dead.
Little kens the auld wife that sits by the fire, How cauld the wind blaws in hurle-burle swire." And singing as he went, he left the apartment. Now, Billy Berwick, keep good heart, And of they talking let me be; But if thou art a man, as I am sure thou art, Come over the dike and fight with me. Old Ballad.
He that takes all his geir fra himself, and gives it to his bairns, it were weil ward to take a mell and knock out his hairns. He sits full still that hes a riven brick. He that does bidding, deserves na dinging. He that blaws best bears away the Horn. He is well staikit thereben, that will neither borrow, nor len. Ill weeds waxes weil.
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