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Updated: May 27, 2025
When the conduct of Piggie Walker, who bought Drumsheugh's potatoes and went into bankruptcy without paying for a single tuber, had been characterized in language that left nothing to be desired, Drumsheugh began to soften and show signs of reciprocity. "Hoo's yir laddies, Dominie?" whom the farmers regarded as a risky turnip crop in a stiff clay that Domsie had "to fecht awa in."
A clamour of "Fecht! fecht!" arose, and some of them applauded me, calling me a "swankie," which I believe is a compliment. A certain sense of fairness is often to be found where least expected. They capsized the fat, protesting browsterwife over her own stool, and were pulling Jamie's coat from his back, when I began to suspect that a fight was not to the sniveller's liking.
I couldn't live without it. Walter and I read it every night. Liz drew herself a little apart doubtfully, and looked yet more scrutinisingly into the face of Gladys. 'Upon my word, ye're less fit than I thocht for this warld. What were ye born for? Ye'll never fecht yer way through, she said, with a kind of scornful pity. 'Oh yes, I will.
I wad jist lat them fecht things oot 'at thoucht they saw hoo they oucht to gang; an' I wad gie them guid mutton to haud them up to their dreary wark, an' maybe a sangy noo an' than 'at wad help them to drap it a'thegither." "But wouldn't you like to have a wife, Donal, and children, like your father and mother?" spelt Gibbie. "Na, na; nae wife for me, Gibbie!" answered the philosopher.
"William MacLure," said Drumsheugh, in one of the few confidences that ever broke the Drumtochty reserve, "a'm a lonely man, wi' naebody o' ma ain blude tae care for me livin', or tae lift me intae ma coffin when a'm deid. "A' fecht awa at Muirtown market for an extra pound on a beast, or a shillin' on the quarter o' barley, an' what's the gude o't?
I have already injured it a good deal." "Have you been ill? You never said so." "Oh no, it was hardly worth while. And I knew an active life would soon set me right again. No fear! there's life in the old dog yet. He does not wish to die. But," Mr. Lyon pursued, "I have had a 'sair fecht' the last year or two. I would not go through it again, nor see any one dear to me go through it.
Indeed, the very look of him made me laugh out 'twas now as mild as a summer's morn. "Wow," says Jamie, "ye maun fecht wi' a man o' yere ain size." "I'll lay a guinea that we weigh even," said I; and suddenly remembered that I had not so much as tuppence to bless me. Happily he did not accept the wager.
I wudda gien a pound note juist to gotten a richt straucht-forrit fecht amon' them for half an 'oor." "You're juist like a muckle bubbly laddie, Sandy," says I. "It's a winder you wasna awa' up the toon wi' them to see if ony o' the sojers wud lat you cairry hame their gun. I raley winder to see an auld tattie man like you goin' on like some roid loon." "That's a' you ken, Bawbie," says he.
I wad fecht for her, but I wadna lee." "Would ye be her servant all your days? Come, now." "Mair nor willin'ly, my lord gien she wad only hae me, an' keep me." "But supposing you came to inherit the Kirkbyres property?" "My lord," said Malcolm solemnly, "that 's a puir test to put me till. It gangs for naething.
"William MacLure," said Drumsheugh, in one of the few confidences that ever broke the Drumtochty reserve, "a' 'm a lonely man, wi' naebody o' ma ain blude tae care for me livin', or tae lift me intae ma coffin when a' 'm deid. "A' fecht awa' at Muirtown market for an extra pund on a beast, or a shillin' on the quarter o' barley, an' what's the gude o' 't?
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