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Updated: June 1, 2025
An' dar wuz Light Horse Harry Lee, an' dar wuz Marse Fauquier Cary dat wuz marster's gran'father, an' Marse Edward Churchill! An' dey took de swords, an' dey made to stack de ahms, an' dey druv an' dey druv King Pharaoh into de sea! Ain' dey gwine ter do hit ergain? Tell me dat! Ain' dey gwine ter do hit ergain?" The master signed with his hand. "I trust you one and all.
For ance 'at there cam the markis to the hoose whan things warna freely sae scant aboot the place as they hae been sin' yer father cam to the throne there cam at his back a fearsome storm, sic as comes but seldom in a life lang as mine, an' sic 'at his lordship cudna win awa'. Thereupon yer father, that is, yer gran'father, or it wad be yer grit-gran'father I'm turnin' some confused amo' ye: ye aye keep comin'! onyhoo, he gae the captain a kent like,'at he wad du weel to offer his room til's lordship.
It's unco ready to that o' 'ts ain sel'; an' it's my opingon that there's no anither instrument but the fiddle fit to play the Flooers o' the Forest upo', for that very rizzon, in a' his Maijesty's dominions. My father playt the fiddle, but no like your gran'father. Robert was silent.
"Well, that's something so," said Whitwell, with pleasure in the distinction rather than assent. "But I guess it ain't original sin in the boy. Got it from his gran'father pootty straight, I should say, and maybe the old man had it secondhand. Ha'd to say just where so much cussedness gits statted."
Blin' as my gran'father is, ye wad sweer he had fochten in 's day, gien ye hard hoo he'll gar't whurr an' whustle aboot 's heid as gien 't war a bit lath o' wud." "But that's very dangerous," said Florimel, something aghast at the recital. "Ow, ay!" assented Malcolm, indifferently, "Gien ye wad luik in, my leddy, I wad lat ye see his claymore, an' his dirk, an' his skene dhu, an' a'."
"Tell me now, little one," continued Tom, sitting down on the bench and drawing the child gently towards him, "whom are you pocketing all these good things for? not for yourself, I'm quite sure of that." "Oh dear, no, sir; it's for gran'father." "Indeed. Is grandfather very poor?" "Oh yes, sir, very, very poor; an' he's got nobody but me to take care of him."
I wouldn't like to be doin' that, Roseen." "If they was rale bad people," said Roseen persuasively; "rale wicked, crule people, the same as me gran'father beyant, it 'ud sarve them right, or we might throw down a sup of bilin' wather," she added as a concession. Mike appeared unconvinced.
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.
I thoucht I was ower mony for her than: I wonner she daur be at me again." "She 's daurt her God er' noo, an' may weel daur you. But what says yer gran'father till 't, no?" "He hasna hard a chuckie's cheep o' 't." "What are we haverin' at than! Canna he sattle the maitter aff han'?" Miss Horn eyed him keenly as she spoke.
"I don't know what you mean by that, Malcolm." "I mean, mem, 'at a blin' man, like my gran'father, canna ken himsel' richt, seein' he canna ken ither fowk richt. It's by kennin' ither fowk 'at ye come to ken yersel, mem isna't noo?" "Blindness surely doesn't prevent a man from knowing other people.
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