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Then Mary tossed her head and bustled at her work. "I ain't afeard o' that day, Mrs. Goudie. He isn't going the right way to win me, I can tell him. I hate his sly ways." Mavis and the old charwoman thought that Mr. Druitt would win the prize in the end, and with a natural tendency toward match-making tacitly aided and abetted his queer courtship.
Man, Jock Goudie has won the C.B." "Jock Goudie" an envious bodie will pucker as if he had never heard the name "Jock Goudie? Wha's he for a Goudie? Oh ay, let me see now. Oo-ooh, I ken him fine. His grannie keepit a sweetie-shop in Strathbungo." There you have the "nesty" Scotsman. So, too, on lower grounds, would his wife's sluttishness.
Dale escorted the honored guest to the gig, then wiped his perspiring face, lighted a pipe; and then reproved Mary and Mrs. Goudie for unseemly mirth. They still had Mary with them, and, although they did not know it, were to enjoy her faithful service for some time to come. Now that Mrs. Dale grew her own vegetables, purchases from Mr.
He spoke to Allen Goudie about it, and both men stood and sniffed the air. Yes, Allen smelled smoke, too. It was unmistakable. The wind was blowing up the valley; therefore someone must have a fire below them. Hastily finishing the work of breaking camp, the four men shouldered their packs and turned back.
This was the tilt that George, in his struggle out, had supposed he would have to reach to get help. It was about six by seven feet, and as it contained a tent-stove we were able to make ourselves comfortable for the night after our supper of tea and bread and butter and molasses thoughtfully provided by Mrs. Goudie.
'But I gae mad at their grimaces, Their sighin', cantin', grace-prood faces, Their three-mile prayers, and half-mile graces, Their raxin' conscience, Whase greed, revenge, and pride disgraces Waur nor their nonsense. The first of Burns's satires, if we except his epistle to John Goudie, wherein we have a hint of the acute differences of the time, is his poem The Twa Herds, or The Holy Tulzie.
No doubt he came and went as surreptitiously as he could. Let it be between ourselves, Mrs. Goudie. Don't spread the tale an inch beyond us three." "I will not, sir. But, oh, well-a-day, it's a bad bit o' news, sir. I did hope Mr. Bates was cured o' that runnin' sore."
"Oh, we rough old chaps don't require such prettiness about them." Norah displayed her small white teeth in a broadening smile; then she looked at the revered master thoughtfully. "Why do you say you're old? You aren't really old, Mr. Dale." "Oh, aren't I? I wonder what you call old, lassie." "I call father old, and Mr. Bates and Mrs. Goudie."
Goudie, who came for charring twice a week, used to say that, in spite of being handicapped by the state of her health, the mistress worked harder than the maid. A swept hearth, a trimmed lamp, and the savory odor of well-cooked food, were what Dale might be sure of finding at the evening hour; and Mavis tried to give him something more.
In fact she worked so stanchly at scrubbing, scouring, and so forth, as well as looking after the children, that for a long while Mavis did not detect how poor old Mrs. Goudie was failing, and leaving nearly all her duties to be performed by others.
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