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Updated: May 23, 2025
I gaed in ae day whan I wasna weel; an' she jist ministert to me, as nane ever did but yersel', mem. An' she was that kin' an' mither-like to the wee bit greitin' bairnie 'at she had to tak care o' 'cause her mither was oot wi' the lave shearin'! Her face was jist like a simmer day, an' weel I likit the luik o' the lassie! I met her again the nicht. Ye never saw sic a change.
The buzzing of his bee was for the present interrupted by the return of Blue Peter with his wife. She threw her arms round Malcolm's neck, and burst into tears. "Hoots, my woman!" said her husband, "what are ye greitin' at?" "Eh, Peter!" she answered, "I canna help it. It's jist like a deith.
She was greitin' about a bairnie she had lost, an' I kent weel whaur the bairnie was doon in a cave upo' the shore, I thoucht an' was jist yirnin' to gang till her an' tell her, an' stop the greitin' o' her hert, but I cudna muv han' nor fit, naither cud I open my mou' to cry till her. An' I gaed dreamin' on at the same thing ower an' ower, a' the time I was asleep.
"I ken a heap aboot fowk o' a' kin's mair a heap, I'm thinkin, nor ye ken yersel! I ken mair aboot yersel, tee, nor ye think; I hae seen ye i' my ain kirk mair nor ance or twice. The Sunday nicht afore last I was preachin straucht intil yer bonny face, and saw ye greitin, and maist grat mysel.
O' the contrar', the storm was like a freenly cloak til's grief, for upo' the ro'd he fell a greitin' an' compleenin' an' lamentin' lood, jeedgin' nae doobt, gien he thoucht at a', he micht du as he likit wi' naebody nigh. To the sheep cot, I say, he gaed wailin' an' cryin' alood efter bonny bairn, the last o' his flock, oontimeous his taen.
'They're some black, I doobt, mem, he remarked, rubbing them hard upon his trowsers before he showed them; 'for I was amaist cawin' oot the brains o' Dooble Sanny wi' his ain lapstane. He's an ill-tongued chield. But eh! mem, ye suld hear him play upo' the fiddle! He's greitin' his een oot e'en noo for the bonnie leddy.
And she micht hae gane on lauchin' to a' eternity for onything I cared. And ten times waur I wad whiles come upon her greitin' and repentin', and haudin' oot her han' to me, and me carin' no more for her than for the beard o' a barley-stalk. And I begud to hear a laich lauch far awa', and it cam' nearer and nearer ilka week, till it was ringin' i' my verra lug.
The grandfather, not sorry to be released, gave his shoulders a little writhing shake, laughed an amused laugh, and set off boring and stitching and drawing at redoubled speed. "Weel, Maggie?" he said, with loving interrogation, but without looking up. "I saw ye was richt, father, and it set me greitin sae sair that I forgot the bairn, and you, father, as weel.
Come awa', nichts an' mornin's, Ye are wings o' a michty span! For I ken he's luikin' an' waitin', Luikin' aye doon as I clim': Wad I hae him see me sit greitin', I'stead o' gaein' to him? I'll step oot like ane sure o' a meetin', I'll traivel an' rin to him. Three of them knew that the verses were Donal's.
So with the weak cunning of his kind, he went to the shop, and bringing back a bit of sugar-candy, about the size of a pigeon's egg, said to the still weeping child: "Dinna greit, Annie. I canna bide to see ye greitin'. Gin ye want a bittie o' sugar ony time, jist tell me, an' dinna gang helpin' yoursel'. That's a'. Hae."
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