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Ilka ane o' ye 'at hears, maun luik efter the neist; and sae we'll a' gether at Curly's. Fess yer bags for the stanes, them 'at has bags." "But gin ye dinna see or hear, for it's a lang road, General?" interposed Cadger. "Gin I'm no at your yard, Curly, in saiven minutes an' a half, sen' Linkum efter me. He's the only ane o' ye 'at can rin. It's a' that he can do, but he does't weel.
"The gran' diffeeculty is hoo He can lat ilk ane tak' his ain gait an' yet luik efter them a'. But gien He does't, it stan's to rizzon it maun be in some w'y 'at them 'at's sae luikit efter canna by ony possibeelity un'erstan'." "That's trowth, I'm thinkin'. We maun jist gi'e up an' confess there's things abune a' human comprehension."
"Does't come frae a guid place, or frae an ill?" said the laird, doubtingly. "It's saft an' kin'ly i' the fin' o' 't," returned Malcolm suggestively, rising and joining the laird on the top of the dune, and like him spreading himself out to the western air. The twilight had deepened, merging into such night as the summer in that region knows a sweet pale memory of the past day.
"Oh! we needna say anything about the excise, Davie," said the pilot, looking uneasy. "What does't matter about the excise?" Davie Flett quietly stroked his bristly chin, saying: "Weel, Carver Kinlay, it's the first time I have heard of a pilot having a hand in that business. But, no doubt, a pilot has grand facilities.
His opinion of Brodie's sagacity, high already, was enhanced by the remark. "Indeed, that's verra true. But how does't apply to young Gourlay in particular, Thomas? Is he after some damsel o' the gill-stoup?" "Ou ay he's ta'en a fancy to yon bit shilp in the bar-room o' the Red Lion.
Oh, my son, my son, Horrour it selfe upon the wings of Death, Stretcht to the uttermost expansion Over the wounded body of an Army, Could never carry an aspect like this, This murthering spectacle, this field of paper Stucke all with Basiliskes eyes. Read but this word, 'The ravisht Eleonora! does't not seeme Like a full cloud of bloud ready to burst And fall upon our heads? Man.
"Weel, ye're no ower young to need to be ta'en guid care o' are ye, Tibbie?" Tibbie grunted. "Weel, to come to the pint. There's nae doobt the hoose wants a hantle o' doctorin'." "'Deed does't," interposed Tibbie. "It'll want a new door. For forbye 'at the door's maist as wide as twa ordinar doors, it was ance in twa halves like a chop-door.
Desertion does't mean a sea of water between, it means an ocean of self-will and love-me-first between. If you hadn't deserted him, as this letter shows, he wouldn't have been here. I expect he told you so; and if he did, what did you say to him?" The Young Doctor's eyes were full of decorous mirth and apprehension, for such logic and such impudence as Kitty's was like none he had ever heard.
"Ah, pup!" cried Dick, sympathetically, "does't hurt ye, eh, poor dog?" Hurt him? such a question! No, he should think not; better ask if that leap from the precipice hurt yourself. So Crusoe might have said, but he didn't; he took no notice of the remark whatever. "We'll cut him up now, pup," continued Dick. "The skin'll make a splendid bed for you an' me o' nights, and a saddle for Charlie."
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