Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 2, 2025
There was indeed need of Ralph at Craig Ronald. Mistress Skirving cried out incessantly for him. Meg begged Winsome to let her look every day at the little miniature Ralph had sent her from Edinburgh. The Cuif held forth upon the great event every night when he came over to hold the tails of Meg's cows.
Meg leaned back so far that she could discern a glint of yellow hair in the darkness. The cuif was about to light his pipe. Meg stopped him. "Nane o' yer lichts here, cuif," she said; "it's time ye were thinkin' aboot gaun ower the hill. But ye haena' telled us yet what's queer aboot the lad." "Weel, woman, he's aye write writin', whiles on sheets o' paper, and whiles on buiks."
"Ye see what it is to be in love," said John Scott, the herd, who had stolen to the door unperceived and so had marked Ebie's discomfiture. "He disna ken the difference between Jess hersel' an' Hornie!" said the Cuif, who was repaying old scores. In a little while the cows were all milked. Saunders was standing at the end of the barn, looking down the long valley of the Grannoch water.
But in anither month, faith, I thocht that she wad hae etten me, an' afore the year was oot I wussed she had. Aye, aye, sir, it's waur nor a lottery, mairriage it's a great mystery." "But how is it, then, that you are so anxious to get married again?" asked Ralph, to whom these conversations with the Cuif were a means of lightening his mind of his own cares.
The Cuif put his hands in his pockets as if to keep them away from the dangerous temptation of touching Meg. He stood with his shoulder against the wall and chewed a straw. "What's come o' Maister Peden thae days?" asked Meg. "He's maist michty unsettled like," replied Saunders, "he's for a' the world like a stirk wi' a horse cleg on him that he canna get at.
Again there was a silence, and as the night wind began to draw southward in cool gulps of air off the hills, Winsome Charteris's window was softly closed. "Hae ye nocht better than that to tell us, cuif?" said Meg, briskly, "nocht fresh-like?"
The subject did not admit of discussion, though Saunders was a cuif, he knew when to hold his tongue at least on most occasions. "An' what brocht ye here the nicht, Cuif?" asked Meg, who, when she wanted information, knew how to ask it directly, a very rare feminine accomplishment. "To see you, Meg, my dawtie," replied Saunders, tenderly edging nearer.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking