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Updated: June 3, 2025
'I'll no quit Jamie or the weans, said little Mary resolutely, turning back as the three-year-old boy elicited a squall from the eighteen-months one. 'Johnnie! Johnnie! what gars ye tak' away wee Andie's claw? Here, my mannie.
But he flushed and looked pleased at the other's trust in him. "Bah! I can read faces; and so must you, or you'll never take your four bones safe to Rome." "Soldier, you would find me a dull companion, for my heart is very heavy," said Gerard, yielding. "I'll cheer you, mon gars." "I think you would," said Gerard sweetly; "and sore need have I of a kindly voice in mine ear this day."
Then Malcolm turned to Joseph Mair, commonly called Blue Peter, because he had been a man of war's man, and laying his hand on his arm said: "Blue Peter, did ever I tell ye a lee?" "No, never," answered Peter. "What gars ye speir sic a thing?" "Cause I want ye to believe me noo, an' it winna be easy." "I'll believe onything ye tell me 'at can be believed."
'He's in my class at the schuil, said Robert, evasively. 'Him? What class, noo? Robert hesitated one moment, but, compelled to give some answer, said, with confidence, 'The Bible-class. 'I thocht as muckle! What gars ye play at hide and seek wi' me? Do ye think I dinna ken weel eneuch there's no a lad or a lass at the schuil but 's i' the Bible-class? What wants he here?
Thereupon he indited these couplets, "O Lord, by the Five Shaykhs, I pray deliver me * From love, which gars me bear such grief and misery. Thou knowest what I bear for passion's fiery flame; * What stress of sickness for that merciless maid I dree. She hath no pity on the pangs to me decreed; * How long on weakly wight shall last her tyranny?
The first thing to see, looking away over the water, was a kind of dull line that was the woods on t'other side; you couldn't make nothing else out; then a pale place in the sky; then more paleness spreading around; then the river softened up away off, and warn't black any more, but gray; you could see little dark spots drifting along ever so far away trading scows, and such things; and long black streaks rafts; sometimes you could hear a sweep screaking; or jumbled up voices, it was so still, and sounds come so far; and by and by you could see a streak on the water which you know by the look of the streak that there's a snag there in a swift current which breaks on it and makes that streak look that way; and you see the mist curl up off of the water, and the east reddens up, and the river, and you make out a log-cabin in the edge of the woods, away on the bank on t'other side of the river, being a woodyard, likely, and piled by them cheats so you can throw a dog through it anywheres; then the nice breeze springs up, and comes fanning you from over there, so cool and fresh and sweet to smell on account of the woods and the flowers; but sometimes not that way, because they've left dead fish laying around, gars and such, and they do get pretty rank; and next you've got the full day, and everything smiling in the sun, and the song-birds just going it!
"Do ye ken what licht is, Tibbie?" said Annie, whom Milton had set meditating on Tibbie's physical in relation to her mental condition. "Ay, weel eneuch," answered Tibbie, with a touch of indignation at the imputed ignorance. "What for no? What gars ye spier?" "Ow! I jist wanted to ken." "Hoo could I no ken?
And you've taken her for granted ever since you were so high. Now here's a word of wisdom for you, mon gars. No girl likes to be taken for granted after she's, say, fourteen, unless, ma fé, she's as ugly as sin. If she's a beauty, as our Carette is, she knows it, and she's not going to drop into any man's mouth like a ripe fig. Mon Gyu, no!" with a crisp nod.
"No, no, monsieur le marquis, excuse me," he said; "the Jacobins taught me too well in 1793 that it is not he who sows and reaps who eats the bread. Sign this bit of paper for me, and to-morrow I'll bring you fifteen hundred gars. If not, I'll treat with the First Consul."
"Yes," I said, with a shrug at my own lack of understanding on that point. "Privateering's honest business after all." "And free-trading isn't! You'll never make a privateer, mon gars. You're too much in leading-strings." "I don't know," I said, somewhat ruffled. "I have seen some service. We fought a Frenchman in the West Indies, and I've been twice wrecked." "So!
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