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Updated: June 12, 2025
Then my mind misgive me, for a thought he hadn't a shilling i' t' world, an' yet if he hadn't, a should just ha' gi'en him t' bed a' t' same: a'm not one as can turn a dog out if he comes t' me wearied o' his life. So he outs wi' a shillin', an' lays it down on t' table, 'bout a word. "A'll not trouble yo' long," says he. "A'm one as is best out o' t' world," he says.
An' syne he telled them hoo, laith to be fashous, he had gi'en orders till 's menyie to be all afore the mornin' brak, an' wait at the neist cheenge hoose till he jined them. 'Whaur, said the leddy, 'I trust ye'll lat them wait, or else sen' for them. But the yerl sat an' said never a word.
If I could stick a gimblet in somewhere, as if I was a cider-barrel, I could gi'en ye enough; but I ain't no barrel, an' a gimblet ain't no use. There's a man here as can talk. That's his trade, an' if he'll say what I ought to say, I shall be obleeged to 'im. Yates is a lawyer, an' it's his business to talk for other folks, an' I hope he'll talk for me." "Yates! Yates!" arose on all sides.
"I hae na seen ye're bonny face these muckle years, sir, sync ye cam' back frae ae sight o' the young mistress." I told him yes. That I had come for a last look at the old place before I left. He sighed. "Ye're vera welcome, sir." Then he added: "Mr. Bordley's gi'en me a fair notion o' yere management at Gordon's. The judge is thinking there'll be nane ither lad t' hand a candle to ye."
When I gived my vote to Measter Cholmley to go up to t' Parliament House, I as good as said, 'Now yo' go up theer, sir, and tell 'em what I, Dannel Robson, think right, and what I, Dannel Robson, wish to have done. Else I'd be darned if I'd ha' gi'en my vote to him or any other man. Div yo' think I'd send up Measter Cholmley to speak up for that piece o' work?
I believe 't, though I canna jist see 't. A body canna like a'body, and the minister's jist the ae man I canna bide." "Ay could ye, gi'en ye lo'ed the ane as he oucht to be lo'ed, and as ye maun learn to lo'e him." "Weel I'm no come to that wi' the minister yet!" "He provokes me the w'y that he speaks to ye, father him 'at's no fit to tie the thong o' your shee!"
"I might think poorlier of you than I've a right to if I did. When a rose is held lower in the scale of natur' than a turnip, or the mastership in music is gi'en in again the fiddle in favor o' the hurdy-gurdy, I'll begin to think as you and me is better specimens of natur's handiwork than this here gracious bit o' sweetness as is coming towards us at this minute. Good-evenin', Mr. Eld.
If ye don't stand by yer Happy David, there'll be somethin' worse nor Jim Fenton arter ye, an' when that comes, ye can jest shet yer eyes, and gi'en it up." This was too much for both Yates and Benedict. They looked into each other's eyes, and burst into a laugh. But Jim was in earnest, and not a smile crossed his rough face.
You hae gi'en me an insult, Angus Raith, and dinna cross my door-stane any more, till you get the invite to do so." She stepped within her open door and faced him. Her eyes blazed, her whole attitude was that of defiance. The passions, which in well-bred women are educated clean down out of sight, were in Maggie Promoter's tongue tip and finger tips.
"I mind well the words, as if it was yesterday. Ye'll tak' care o' Ranald, for, oh, Hugh! I ha' gi'en him to the Lord. The Lord help you to mak' a guid man o' him." Macdonald's voice faltered into silence, then, after a few moments, he cried, "And oh!
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