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Updated: May 31, 2025
"Why did you ring? You aren't going to take seriously the thing I have told you? The man is being looked after. John is attending to him to-night." "John!" The word came involuntarily, and her head was turned quickly lest its spasm of pain be seen. "What has John to do with it?" "A very good deal." Miss Gibbie's breath was coming back.
More even than a knowledge of the truth, is a readiness to receive it; and Janet saw from the first that Gibbie's ignorance at its worst was but room vacant for the truth: when it came it found bolt nor bar on door or window, but had immediate entrance. The secret of this power of reception was, that to see a truth and to do it was one and the same thing with Gibbie.
"Feel sorry " The look on Miss Gibbie's face stopped her and her own flushed. "Yes, I do," she protested, bravely. "Men are so helpless and they seem so bewildered." Miss Gibbie lay back, relaxed and limp, her eyes closed. "My dear child, you are younger than I thought." Her eyes opened as significantly as they had closed, and the turkey-wing fan tapped one pink cheek and then the other.
They reached at length the little eminence or knoll upon the highest part of the common, called Gibbie's Knowe a spot repeatedly mentioned in this history as being on the skirts of the Ellangowan estate.
When Robert became aware, chiefly through the representations of his wife and Donal, of Gibbie's gifts of other kinds than those revealed to himself by his good shepherding, he began to turn it over in his mind, and by and by referred the question to his wife whether they ought not to send the boy to school, that he might learn the things he was so much more than ordinarily capable of learning.
Still Gibbie only smiled. "Whaur come ye frae? Wha's yer fowk? Whaur div ye bide? Haena ye a tongue i' yer heid, ye rascal?" Gibbie burst out laughing, and his eyes sparkled and shone: he was delighted with the herd-boy, and it was so long since he had heard human speech addressed to himself! "Puir thing! puir thing!" he added aloud, and laid his hand on Gibbie's head.
Shine, auld sun, Shine strang an' fine: Gien I was the sun's son, Herty I wad shine. Hardly had he ended, when Gibbie's pipes began from the opposite side of the water, and, true to time and cadence and feeling, followed with just the one air to suit the song from which Donal, to his no small comfort, understood that one at least of his audience had received his lilt.
Gibbie's pike, escaping from its sling, had fallen to a level direction across his hands, which, I grieve to say, were seeking dishonourable safety in as strong a grasp of the mane as their muscles could manage. His casque, too, had slipped completely over his face, so that he saw as little in front as he did in rear.
She was friendly and helpful to them as before; but the slightest approach to inquiry as to where she had been or what she had been doing, she met with simple obstinate silence. Gibbie's bounty and her faithful abstinence enabled her to add to her stock and extend her trade.
"I wad like," she went on, as she replaced the bottle without having spoken a word to her customer, whose departure was now announced with the same boisterous alacrity as his arrival by the shrill-toned bell "I wad like, for's father's sake, honest man! to thraw Gibbie's lug. That likin' for dirt I canna fathom nor bide." Meantime the boys attention seemed entirely absorbed in the gutter.
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