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Updated: June 28, 2025
"He's a gey clever laddie," he had said once to Maggie, "and gien he gets his een open i' the coorse o' the life he's hardly yet ta'en hand o', he'll doobtless see something; but he disna ken yet that there's onything rael to be seen, ootside or inside o' him!" When he heard that he was going to study divinity, he shook his head, and was silent. "I'm jist hame frae peyin him a short veesit," Mrs.
On the evening after the stained-glass 'windie' had been set up in the new kirk and dedicated to the memory of Saint Cuthbert, the Reverend Alexander Macgregor and his elder, Ringan Telfer, the ancient 'herd, sat together in the manse's little 'sanctum' or library, enjoying a 'crack, a glass of whisky, and a pipe of tobacco. 'It's a gey an' useful thing a ghaist, said Ringan meditatively.
"Go on, Jock," says ane o' them, gien anither ane a shuve forrit. "You're the captain; speak you." Jock gae a host, an' syne layin' his hand a gey clorty ane it was on the coonter, an' stanin' on ae fit, he says "Isyin?" "Wha micht he be?" says I. "Sandy," said the captain. "What Sandy?" says I. "No," said ane o' the birkies ahent; "your Sandy Sandy Bowden."
"Weel, did you ever?" said Mistress Kenawee, haudin' up her hands. "No!" said Sandy, turnin' to her gey ill-natured like. "Did you?" "That's a type o' what ye ca' your men," says Mysie. "Weel, weel; they're scarce o' cloots that mend their hose wi' dockens." "Bliss my hert, Sandy, she'll be awa' wi' the till atore ye get back," I said. "Rin awa' yont as fest as your feet'll cairry ye."
D'ye know, that night I cud hear th' aisiest whisper frum her lips I cud that. She groped fur m' han; 'Jamie, says she, 'it's nearly over, dear. "'God love ye, says I. "'Aye, says she, 'if He'll jist love me as ye've done it'll be fine. Knowin' what a rough maan I'd been, I cudn't thole it. "'Th' road's been gey rocky an' we've made many mistakes.
"My mither wouldna' let me." "Would she no'?" replied Andrew. "But you are the heid o' the hoose, Robin, sae just tak' it hame, an' lay it down on the dresser-head. We are doin' gey weel the noo, an' forby, ye're workin' for it. Noo run awa' hame wi't, an' dinna say ocht to yir mither, but just put it doon on the dresser-head." And so the partnership began which was to last for many years.
'I'm no'; I wish I hadna come, was the flat reply, which made the sensitive colour rise in the fair cheek of Gladys. 'Oh no, you don't; you are only shy. Wait till you have seen Bourhill; you will think it the loveliest place in the world, she said cheerfully. 'Maybe, answered Teen doubtfully. 'I feel gey queer the noo, onyhoo. This was not encouraging.
"He's lyin' gey bad, Mysie, an' when I cam' awa' this mornin', I didna like the look o' him at a'. He was kind o' wanderin' in his mind, an' speakin' to you an' John, jist as he used to speak when we were a' bairns thegither. He was liltin' some o' thae auld sangs he used to sing to us. But dinna greet, Mysie, you'll mak' yoursel' waur.
It seemed to flood his parched being with a new vitality. "Oh, I doubt we'll be gey ill off!" he heard his mother whine, and at that reminder of her nearness he checked the great, satisfied breath he had begun to blow.
Mrs Mair only, who was walking with a friend, gave him a kind nod. Blue Peter, who followed at a little distance, turned and walked back with him. "I'm exerceesed i' my min'," he said, as soon as they were clear of the stragglers, "aboot the turn things hae taen, doon by at the Barn." "They tell me there's some gey queer customers taen to haudin' furth," returned Malcolm.
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