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Updated: June 19, 2025
Bayne demanded precipitately, his own breath short, his pulses beating in his temples till the veins seemed near bursting. "I can't rightly say now," the old man drawled; "but but I kin tell you where we-uns lef' him. 'T war a awful bis'ness, that crackin' off Briscoe that warn't in the plan at all. We-uns war after the revenuer.
"A 've heard him wi' ma ain ears crackin' her up by the 'oor, an' a' canna mak' oot what set him against her the day; but he 's young," remarked Elspeth, sagely, "an' wi' his age it's either saint or deevil, an' ae day the one an' the next day the ither; there 's nae medium. Noo, maist fouk are juist half an' between, an' Mary hed her faults.
"Ma got it ready for you; I've had mine; I made me some mush out of the yaller corn-meal Pomp fetched from the mill. Mush-an'-milk, with a dab o' cream an' a pinch o' salt, is all right to sleep on. We've had a day of it; Hettie has gone all to flinders, and went to bed at sundown with a crackin' headache, an' eyes swelled as big as squashes. Her uncle Ben is in trouble.
Ye mind me o' a bonny ship pitten oot into the black and gowsty seas ye're a' safe still, sittin' quait and crackin' wi' Kirstie in your lown chalmer; but whaur will ye be the morn, and in whatten horror o' the fearsome tempest, cryin' on the hills to cover ye?" "Why, Kirstie, you're very enigmatical to-night and very eloquent," Archie put in. "And, my dear Mr.
'Why, Tom, I used to say, 'when your gals takes on and cry, what's the use o' crackin on' em over the head, and knockin' on 'em round? It's ridiculous, says I, 'and don't do no sort o' good. Why, I don't see no harm in their cryin', says I; 'it's natur, says I, 'and if natur can't blow off one way, it will another.
"Oh, tell me 'bout 'em! I am jus' hungry to see 'em. I've learned the names of three birds myself an' I saw a gray squirrel onct." "Three birds shucks!" said Archie B., "I could sho' you forty, but I'll tell you what's crackin' good fun an' it'll test you mor'n knowin' the birds that's easy. But the hard thing is to find their nests an' then to tell by the eggs what bird it is.
Ye mind me o' a bonny ship pitten oot into the black and gowsty seas ye're a' safe still, sittin' quait and crackin' wi' Kirstie in your lown chalmer; but whaur will ye be the morn, and in whatten horror o' the fearsome tempest, cryin' on the hills to cover ye?" "Why, Kirstie, you're very enigmatical to-night and very eloquent," Archie put in. "And, my dear Mr.
An' then the old scoundrel slid around lazy like a torn cat by the fire, and sort of rolled on his back an' stretched. Next he slapped at himself with his paws. If he wasn't sick he was shore actin' queer with thet canyon full of crackin' guns an' bayin' hounds an' yellin' men. I begun to get suspicious. Shore he must be a dyin' bear.
A paragraph in the "Daily Advertiser" of June 7, 1869, quotes from a Western paper a story to the effect that one William R. M'Crackin, who had recently died at -confessed to having written the M' Crackin letter. Motley, he said, had snubbed him and refused to lend him money. "He appears to have been a Bohemian of the lowest order."
"Set ye doon, Sir, hereaboot," she said, opening a solid door into the inner room; "neaver gain no fear at aw o' crackin' o' the setties; fairm, fairm anoo' they be, thoo sketterish o' their lukes, Sir. Set ye doon, your Warship; fafty poons desarveth a good room, wi'oot ony lugs o' anemees." "What a beautiful room!" exclaimed Mr. Mordacks; "and how it savors of the place!
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