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"Ah! do send for a priest, or a clergyman!" said Katie, who partly understood his meaning. "Parson? He canna pit new skin on auld scars. Na bit stickit curate-laddie for me, to gang argumentin' wi' ane that's auld enough to be his gran'father. When the parsons will hear me anent God's people, then I'll hear them anent God. " Sae I'm wearing awa, Jean, To the land o' the leal
Martha eagerly interrupted the hesitating voice, and it was easily interrupted! "Yes, yes, gran'father. They'll be sure to let me bring home some for you. I'll be quite, quite sure to do it."
He had been feart o' sleepin' ower lang, ye see, an' sae had waukit ower sune. I was oot efter the fish mysel." "Ow, ay! I fired the gun. The puir man wod hae bursten himsel' gien I hadna." "Deil gien he had bursten himsel' the auld heelan' sholt!" exclaimed Mrs Catanach spitefully. "Ye sanna even sic words to my gran'father, Mrs Catanach," said Malcolm with rebuke. She laughed a strange laugh.
Whitwell leaned back, bracing his knees against the table, which was one of his philosophic poses. "I have sometimes believed that Jeff Durgin was goin' to turn out a blackguard. He's got it in him. He's as like his gran'father as two peas, and he was an old devil. But you got to account in all these here heredity cases for counteractin' influences.
When Gran'father was a boy there was twenty-seven of 'em livin' there, an' nineteen of 'em was children. Gee! there must have been a mob, all in one house!
"Lor'! mother, fowks don't do daft things like that any longer; they've too mich sense nowadays." "Aye, I know t' times has changed, but mebbe there'll be farms still wheer they keep to t' owd ways. Eh! it were grand to see t' farm-lads settin' off i' t' race for t' mell-sheaf. Thy gran'father has gotten t' mell mony a time.
"In sic case," returned Malcolm, "the auld man 'ill hear a' aboot it the meenit he wins there; an' I mak nae doobt he'll du his best to perswaud himsel'." "But what if he shouldn't get there?" persisted Mrs Courthope, in pure benevolence. "Hoot toot, mem! I wonner to hear ye! A Cawmill latten in, and my gran'father hauden oot!
In the evening, as they sat together after supper, Mr. Lammie said, 'Weel, Robert, hoo's the fiddle? 'Fine, I thank ye, sir, answered Robert. 'Lat's hear what ye can do wi' 't. Robert fetched the instrument and complied. 'That's no that ill, remarked the farmer. 'But eh! man, ye suld hae heard yer gran'father han'le the bow. That was something to hear ance in a body's life.
"After my gran'father had tied the highwayman in the chair, he gave him a crack on the head with a stick," said the neighbor, regarding the cook thoughtfully. "They was very brutal in those times," said the cook, before anybody else could speak. "Just to keep him quiet like," said the neighbor, somewhat chilled by the silence of the other two.
Jean was ascending the last step of the stair with a message on her lips concerning butter and eggs. Miss Horn received it, and went back to Malcolm. "Na; Jean wadna du that," she said quietly. But she was wrong, for, hearing Malcolm's words, Jean had retreated one step down the stair, and turned. "But what's this ye tell me aboot yer gran'father, honest man." Miss Horn continued.
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