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Man, Duncan, the Scripter described them weel. They're jist naething but the cracklin' o' thorns under a pot, aye, an' yon foolish bit crater that an ill fate has gie'n us for a meenister is the lightest o' them a'. May the Lord forgie the man that disgraced Maister Cameron's pulpit an' Maister McAlpine's name!"
But it seems I canna sing it often enough, for more than once, when I've not sung it, the audience hasna let me get awa' without it. I'll ha' gie'n as many encores as I usually do; I'll ha' come back, maybe a score of times, and bowed. But a' over the hoose I'll hear voices rising Scots voices, as a rule. "Gie's the wee hoose, Harry," they'll roar.
We were old. We'd worked hard all our lives. We'd gie'n him a' we had. Wad ye no think he'd have gone to work and sought to pay us back? But no. Not he. He sat him doon, and was content to live upon us faither and me, old and worn out though he knew we were. "And that wasna the worst.
And they've had chances you and I wad ha' gie'n whatever we had for and never had the manhood to tak' them! Eh, but I was sair angry, listening to her. She told o' how she and her husband put their heads togither. They wanted their dochter to have a chance as gude as' any girl. And so what did they do but tak' all the savings of their lives, twa hundred pounds, and buy a bit schooner for him.
It was nae mair than four o'clock o' the afternoon when I reached the cottage and found my landlady and her white-haired auld husband waitin' to greet me. They made me as welcome as though I'd been their ain son; ye'd ne'er ha' thocht they were just lettin' me a bit room and gie'n me bit and sup for siller. 'Deed, an' that's what I like fine about the Scots folk.
Andy and Jamie was among them aye, Jamie the woman hater, the bashfu' yin! And, wad ye believe it, it was Jamie hung on and on when all the ithers had gie'n up the chase and left the field to Andy? She liked them both richt weel; that much we could all see. But noo it was that Andy found oot that he'd been spending what he had wi' tae free a hand.
But he's close fisted in more ways than one. Ye'll ca' a man close fisted and mean by that just that he's slow to open his fist to let his siller through it. But doesna the closed fist mean more than that when you come to think on't? Gie'n a man strike a blow wi' the open hand it'll cause anger, maybe a wee bit pain.
But since the country has been ower-run by thae Hielanders an' sodgers, they've had little peace, and the auld man has gie'n them a heap o' trouble, for he's as deaf as a post. Peter says the pairty o' dragoons is a sma' ane, so I expect the sight o' us'll scare them away an' prevent fechtin'."
Mony a lee I tauld doon there i' the clachan to soother them oot o' butter and milk and eggs, and a bit hen at times; mony a time I hae gie'n my ain dinner to thae gangrel bodies frae Glencro sooner nor hae them think there was nae rowth o' vivers whaur they never wer sent awa empty-haunded afore.
This commencement of a speech proves that you have made the plunge, but not that you can swim. At a repetition of 'Gentlemen! expectancy resolved into cynicism. 'Gie'n a help, sang out a son of the plough to a neighbour of the orator. 'Hang it! murmured another, 'we ain't such gentlemen as that comes to. Mr. Raikes was politely requested to 'tune his pipe.
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