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Updated: April 30, 2025
Why should such a woman be pitied or despised, I wonder?" "Miss Graeme, you look as though you thought I was among the pitiers and despisers of such women, and you are wrong. Every word you say in their praise and honour is truth, and canna be gainsaid. But that doesna prove what you began with, that the chances of happiness in married and single life are equal."
Moreover he had always disliked Bruce, and now hated him because Annie had complained of him. "I have as much right to walk here as you or any one else," said Bruce. "Maybe; but even colliginers doesna aye get their richts. Ae richt whiles rides upo' the tap o' anither.
You can splairge here on Edinburgh street, and where's the hairm? It doesna play buff on me! And if there were twenty thousand eediots like yourself, sorrow a Duncan Jopp would hang the fewer. But there's no splairging possible in a camp; and if ye were to go to it, you would find out for yourself whether Lord Well'n'ton approves of caapital punishment or not.
Seth had drawn the letter from his pocket and held it out to Adam, who said, as he took it, "Aye, lad, I've got a tough load to carry just now thee mustna take it ill if I'm a bit silenter and crustier nor usual. Trouble doesna make me care the less for thee. I know we shall stick together to the last." "I take nought ill o' thee, Adam.
"Has anything happened?" said Rose, looking over Mrs Snow's head, at a little crowd of people coming out at the door. "We have visitors, that is all. The minister is here, and a friend of yours your brother Harry's partner. He has brought news not bad news, at least he doesna seem to think so, nor Miss Graeme.
'Try a cream cookie, said Christina. But he could not face it. 'Cream, he said mournfully, 'doesna agree wi' me. The last time I had cream ma aunt had got it in for her cat that had the staggers I lay in agony for three days an' three nichts an' several 'oors into the bargain. Ma aunt feared I was gaun to croak ma last.
She says if ye'll pit it intill a bit tin an' fasten it doon tight it'll maybe keep till ye're at Australia. But I'm thenkin' she doesna rightly ken whaur Australia is on the map." "Oh, Wullie," cried Marcella, flinging herself down on the ground beside him. "I feel as if I can't bear it all.
"Hoot! toot! Charles. Ye dinna want a constable to dry yer back. Gang to the gudewife wi' 't," said Andrew, "she'll gie ye a dry sark. Na, na. Lat the laddies work it aff. As lang's they haud their han's frae what doesna belang to them, I dinna min' a bit ploy noo and than. They'll noo turn oot the waur men for a pliskie or twa."
"Na, I hinna seen the mournin', I've heard o't. Na, if Marget doesna tell me naething, am no the kind to speir naething, an' though I'll be at the kirk the morn, I winna turn my heid to look at the mournin'. But it's fac as death I ken frae Janet McQuhatty 'at the bonnet's a' crape, and three yairds o' crape on the dress, the which Marget calls a costume. . . . Ay, I wouldna wonder but what it was hale watter the morn, for it looks michty like rain, an' if it is it'll serve Marget richt, an' mebbe bring doon her pride a wee.
Dyceworthy," said Macfarlane in his slow, deliberate manner, "that ye have before ye a young Frenchman who doesna believe in onything except himsel' and even as to whether he himsel' is a mon or a myth, he has his doots vera grave doots." Duprez nodded delightedly. "That is so!" he exclaimed. "Our dear Sandy puts it so charmingly! To be a myth seems original, to be a mere man, quite ordinary.
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