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Updated: May 17, 2025
"Fegs, no," she cried, "what do ye tak' me for? Lassie, do ye not ken that I am here for the purpose o' lookin' after you little as I have been able to accomplish, with you as flichty as the Wemysses and as dour as the Ferrises. It is the Lord's ain peety that ye werena' born reasonable and wise like the Mintos !"
McRae's fingers loosened as the man slid down and caught the bull-like throat. His grip tightened. West fought savagely to break it. He could as soon have freed himself from the clamp of a vice. The Scotchman shook him till he was black in the face, then flung him reeling away. "Get oot, ye yellow wolf!" he roared. "Or fegs! I'll break every bone in your hulkin' body.
The old man was mightily taken with this insinuation, and acknowledged that it would give him pleasure to be a bailie next year. We then cannily proceeded, just as if one thing begat another, to discourse anent the different men that were likely to do as councillors, and fixed at last on Alexander Hodden the blanket merchant, and Patrick Fegs the grocer, both excellent characters of their kind.
I sent for you, because I want to go to Rosemead." "To Rosemead!" exclaimed the overseer. "Yes, to Rosemead, and I want a couple of men to take me." The overseer gave a short, vexed laugh. "I can't spare the men, Mistress Patricia. You ought to have known that every man jack on the plantation is busy cutting. If I had a known this was all that was wanted! Fegs!
In a minute he was lost in the woods. Good-by, Silverhorns!" "Ye tell it weel," said McLeod, reaching out for a fresh cigar. "Fegs! Ah doot Sir Walter himsel' couldna impruve upon it. An, sae thot's the way ye didna murder puir Seelverhorrns? It's a tale I'm joyfu' to be hearin'." "Wait a bit," Hemenway answered. "That's not the end, by a long shot. There's worse to follow.
"In an auld buikie o' my father's," answered she. "Is there ony mair in't like it?" "Ay, lots." "Jist learn anither, will ye, afore the morn's nicht?" "I'll do that, Alec." "Dinna ye like it, Curly?" asked Alec, for Curly had said nothing. "Ay, fegs! Annie therefore learned and repeated a few more, which, if not received with equal satisfaction, yet gave sufficient pleasure to the listeners.
And a willin' hert in you forbye? Fegs! ye hae a greater opinion o' Sawtan nor I gied ye the discredit o'." "Na, na; it's nae Sawtan. He has eneuch already, puir fallow!" "Ye'll be o' auld Robbie Burns's opinion, that he 'aiblins micht still hae a stake." "Na, na; he has nane. Burns was nae prophet." "But jist suppose, Thomas�-gin the de'il war to repent."
"I'm sure ye can hae no rizzon to tak' shame o' your legs, gude wife," was the gallant rejoinder; to which their owner replied, with a laugh: "They warna made for public inspection, ony gait." "Hoot! hoot! Naebody saw them. I s' warran' ye didna lie lang! But thae loons they're jist past a'! Heard ye hoo they saired Rob Bruce?" "Fegs! they tell me they a' but buried him alive." "Ow! ay.
"Aw weel " the "dour" expression upon the speaker's long upper lip softening a little "weel! he may be ill-trickit, but he's a swanky lad, for a' that. Aye, fegs! an' braw, too." "Oh! he's 'swanky' enough swaggering but I don't think he's 'braw', handsome not with that little stand in his eye just like Una's, only more so." Pem added the last words under her breath.
It wad gar ye believe it was a' richt, and time for anither tum'ler, whan it's twal o'clock, an' the kirkyaird fowk thinkin' aboot risin'. Fegs, I had a watch o' my father's, an' I regairdit it wi' a reverence mair like a human bein': the second time it played me that pliskie, I dang oot its guts upo' the loupin'-on-stane at the door o' the chop. But lat the watch sit: whaur's the wife?
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