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'The Flooers o' the Forest. 'Play awa' than. And Robert played not so well as he had hoped. I dare say it was a humble enough performance, but he gave something at least of the expression Mr. Lammie desired. For, the moment the tune was over, he exclaimed, 'Weel dune, Robert man! ye'll be a fiddler some day yet! And Robert was well satisfied with the praise.
Then he heard the half-articulate murmuring of one whose organs have been all but overcome by the beneficent paralysis of sleep, but whose feeble will would compel them to utterance. He was nearly asleep again. Was it a fact, or a fancy of Robert's eager heart? Did the man really say, 'Play that again, father. It's bonnie, that! I aye likit the Flooers o' the Forest.
That sma' crater noo 'ill be worth a hunner poun', I s' warran', he added, as he restored it carefully into Robert's hands, to whom it was honey and spice to hear his bonny lady paid her due honours. 'Can ye play the Flooers o' the Forest, no? he added yet again.
For the Lord's my frien'. I can jist tell him a' that comes into my puir blin' heid. Ye see there's ither ways for things to come intil a body's heid. There's mair doors nor the een. There's back doors, whiles, that lat ye oot to the bonnie gairden, and that's better nor the road-side. And the smell o' the braw flooers comes in at the back winnocks, ye ken.
"A 'm dootin', Miss Carnegie, the gude-wife hes keepit ye ower lang in the gairden haiverin' awa' aboot the flooers an' her ither trokes. But she 's michty prood for a' that aboot yir comin' up tae veesit us." Such was the second conference on Kate's affairs on that day.
Wadna ye tak' the rose o' Sharon itsel', nor the fire-reid lilies that made the text for the Saviour's sermon? Ow! na. Ye maun be sober, wi' flooers bonnie eneuch, but smellin' o' the kirkyard raither nor the blue lift, which same's the sapphire throne o' Him that sat thereon."
An' there's no comfort i' the place but plenty to ate; an' that canna be guid for onybody. She likes flooers, though, an' wad like me to gar them grow; but I dinna care aboot it: they tak sic a time afore they come to onything. Then Miss St. John inquired about Shargar, and began to feel rather differently towards the old lady when she had heard the story.
Whilk o' the bonnie flooers do ye think likest Him, Annie Anderson?" "Eh! I dinna ken, Tibbie. I'm thinkin' they maun be a' like him." "Ay, ay, nae doobt. But some o' them may be liker him nor ithers." "Weel, whilk do ye think likest him, Tibbie?" "I think it maun be the minnonette sae clean and sae fine and sae weel content." "Ay, ye're speiken by the smell, Tibbie. But gin ye saw the rose "
It's unco ready to that o' 'ts ain sel'; an' it's my opingon that there's no anither instrument but the fiddle fit to play the Flooers o' the Forest upo', for that very rizzon, in a' his Maijesty's dominions. My father playt the fiddle, but no like your gran'father. Robert was silent.
Ye wad hae jist thoucht the strings had been drawn frae his ain inside, he kent them sae weel, and han'led them sae fine. Eh! to hear him play the Flooers o' the Forest wad hae garred ye greit. 'Cud my father play? asked Robert. 'Ay, weel eneuch for him. He could do onything he likit to try, better nor middlin'. I never saw sic a man.
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