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Updated: June 9, 2025
Eh, Glenfernie, ye that are a learned man and know the warld, gie us help!" "I am going up the glen," said Alexander to Greenlaw. "I do not know why, but I think it should be tried again. And I know it, root and branch. I am going afoot. I will leave Black Alan here." They wasted no time. He went, while Robin Greenlaw on his gray took the opposed direction.
But doubtless," said Greenlaw, debonairly, "it would be the much of the fellow in me that would recognize much in another!" He put his gray into motion. "Good day, sir!" He was gone, disappearing down the long street, into the snow that was now falling like a veil. Strickland turned homeward. The snow fell fast and thick in large white flakes.
Each time I returned from abroad I was always a welcome guest at Greenlaw, as their place outside the city of Burns was called, and this occasion proved no exception, for the country houses of Dumfries are always gay in August in prospect of the shooting. "Some new people have taken Rannoch Castle.
William Scanck, James Greenlaw, John Latham, John Glass. No. Enoch Burnham, having been duly sworn, deposeth That he was standing at the market gate at the time Capt.
That's the infernal difficulty of it. If he don't choose to speak, then we must still remain in ignorance, although I feel confident that he knows something of the strange affair up in the wood." And although I was silent, I shared the Scotch detective's belief. The afternoon was chill and wet as I climbed the hill to Greenlaw.
For a moment he and Robin Greenlaw were together. "Do you know what I hear them calling you?" quoth the latter. "I hear them say 'The wandering laird!" Alexander smiled. "That's not so bad a name!" He walked now beside Jarvis Barrow. The old man's stride was hardly shortened by age. The two kept ahead of the two women, Greenlaw, Thomas, and the sheep-dog Sandy. "It's a bonny day, White Farm!"
Then ye be atheist, Robin Greenlaw, and ye gae indeed frae my door, and wad gae were ye na my nephew, but my son!" He gathered force. "Elder of the kirk, I sit here, and I tell ye that were it my ain flesh and blood that did evil, my stick and my plaid I wad take and ower the moor I wad gae to tell manse and parish that Sin, the wolf, had crept into the fauld!
Barrow's hand came down upon the table. "Robin Greenlaw!" "You need not thunder at me, sir. I'm done! I did not mean to make such a clatter, for in this house what clatter makes any difference? It's the sinner makes the clatter, and it's just promptly sunk and lost in godliness!" The old man and the young turned in their chairs, faced each other.
She thinks then for a little because she sees him in kirk but that passes, too!" "Then what is it?" "I don't know. I don't know of anybody else. Maybe no outer thing has anything to do with it. Sometimes we just have drumlie, dreary seasons and we do not know why.... She loves the spring. Maybe when spring comes she'll be Elspeth once more!" "I hope so," said Greenlaw.
And precisely here, I take it, is the significance of the pages which Professors Greenlaw and Hanford assign to James Russell Lowell. The man whom we commemorate to-night played his part in the evolution which has transformed the Elizabethan Englishman into the twentieth-century American. Lowell was an inheritor and an enricher of the Great Tradition.
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