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Updated: May 14, 2025
God help my poor man! he was too big a coward to speak. So the man stayed wi' us till sundown, an' kissed us 'pon both cheeks, an' went his way, blessin' us. God forgi'e us God forgi'e us! "An' ever since he's been breaking our heads dro' the post-office wi' such-like precious balms as these here." She broke off to settle Isaac more comfortably in his chair.
If I had not loved and respected the girl mysel' I should have got unco' tired o' the subject. "We had just put in our first crop of wheat, when a letter came from Jeanie bringing us the news of her grandfather's death. Weel I ken the word that Willie spak' to me when he closed that letter. 'Jamie, the auld man is gane at last an', God forgi'e me, I feel too gladsome to greet.
If she tid put know ta paad plood was pe in you, she wouldn't pe tone you ta wrong as pring you up." "That 's a wrang no ill to forgi'e, daddy. But it 's a pity ye didna lat me lie, for maybe syne Mistress Catanach wad hae broucht me up hersel', an' I micht hae come to something." "Weel, ye see what ye hae saved me frae."
If she tid put know ta paad blood was pe in you, she wouldn't pe tone you ta wrong as pring you up." "That's a wrang no ill to forgi'e, daddy. But it's a pity ye didna lat me lie, for maybe syne Mistress Catanach wad hae broucht me up hersel', an' I micht hae come to something." "Weel, ye see what ye hae saved me frae."
"It ain't for mothers to forgi'e the thing," she replied, in a steady voice, "but I can forgi'e the man. 'Twere done i' madness there beant the will workin' i' such. 'Twere a comfort that he'd a prayin' over un." Gaston took the gnarled fingers in his. It had never struck him how dreadful a thing it was so used had he been to death in many forms till he had told the story to this mother. "Mrs.
I'd a darter once o' my own, Jenny Gudgeon by name p'raps you know'd 'er, most o' the coppers did as was brought up by my sister by marriage at Carnarvon, an' I sent for 'er to London, I did, pl'eaceman God forgi'e me an' she went wrong all through me bein' a drinkin' woman an' not seein' arter 'er, just as my son Bob tookt to drink, through me bein' a drinkin' woman an' not seein' arter him.
"My son, my son!" he continued, and hurried forward to meet him. "Say also your daughter!" said Edward Mowbray, as he approached towards Mary, and pressed her to his breast. "Philip! my own Philip!" exclaimed Mary, and speech failed her. "My brother!" said Daniel. "He was dead, and is alive again he was lost, and is found," exclaimed John. "O, Philip, man! do ye forgi'e me?"
"Noo God forgi'e ye, Maister Crathie, for threipin' sic a thing!" cried Lizzy, rising as if she would leave him; "Ma'colm MacPhail 's as clear o' ony sin like mine as my wee bairnie itsel'." "Do ye daur tell me he's no the father o' that same, lass?" "No, nor never will be the father a' ony bairn whase mither 's no his wife!" said. Lizzy, with burning cheeks and resolute voice.
"Ah, sir, but when he comes to church, he sits an' shakes his head, an' looks as sour an' as coxy when we're a-singin' as I should like to fetch him a rap across the jowl God forgi'e me an' Mrs. Irwine, an' Your Reverence too, for speakin' so afore you. An' he said as our Christmas singin' was no better nor the cracklin' o' thorns under a pot." "Well, he's got a bad ear for music, Joshua.
O Lord!" spoke the youth, breaking out into almost involuntary prayer, "help this man to haud troth wi' thee. An' noo, Maister Crathie," he resumed, "I'm yer servan', ready to do onything I can. Forgi'e me, sir, for layin' on ower sair." "I forgi'e ye wi' a' my hert," returned the factor, inly delighted to have something to forgive.
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