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"Whist! Do you mind the password?" "Stroke!" "Right. Have you heard Gav Dishart coming?" "I hinna. I doubt his father had grippit him as he was slinking out o' the manse." "I fear it, Corp. I'm thinking his father is in the Woman's pay." "What woman?" "The Woman of Hanover?" "That's the queen, is it no?" "She'll never get me to call her queen." "Nor yet me. I think I hear Gav coming."
"Dinna touch him, or he'll mittal some o' ye," says Bandy; an' the billies a' cleared awa' to the ither end o' the washin'-hoose. A' o' a sudden Sandy grippit an' auld roosty hewk that was lyin' on the boiler, an' roarin', "Whaur's Pottie Lawson, an' I'll cut his wizand till him," he made a flee at the door.
Hoo we wan oot o' the watter I canna un'erstan'. A' 'at I ken is 'at whan I cam to mysel', we war lyin' grippit til ane anither upon a laich bit o' the bank." "But hoo was't 'at naebody ever said a word aboot it efterhin'?" asked Cosmo. "I never tellt onybody, an' ye wasna auld eneuch no to forget a' aboot it." "What for didna ye tell?"
Efter kirnin' aboot amon' the leaves o' his book for a meenit or twa, Nathan got up his nose to the moo o' the lantern an' read oot "A slice o' a drunkard's liver." "What d'ye say?" says Sandy. "Lat's see't." "A slice o' a drunkard's liver," says Nathan again. Sandy grippit the book, an' efter a meenit, he says, "Ay, man; so you're richt. There's been some mixin' amon' the pictures.
Na, I never saw the like o' that! The sark ye was mendin at, lyin i' the aise-hole, an' a red cinder aboon't! if I hadna grippit it, it might hae been a' in a lowe lang afore ye cam to look for't; an' Andrew would only gotten a pouchfu o' aise to tak hame wi' him on Saturday nicht, instead of a sark."
"Next Sabbath was the sacrament, an' Donald gaed alane, for I cudna gang wi' him, and that was the day they tell't the fowk hoo communion cairds was better, an' hoo they wudna use the tokens ony mair. Then Donald grippit the seat, an' he rose an' gaed oot o' the kirk, an' cam hame, an' gaed till his room, an' I didna see his face till the gloamin'. Oh, minister, dinna think owre hard aboot him.
I wadna hae disturbit ye, sir, but I saw the twa een o' a wullcat, or sic like, glowerin' awa yonner i' the mirk, an' they fleyt me 'at I grippit ye." "Weel, weel; sit ye doon, bairnie," said the mad laird in a soothing voice; "the wullcat sanna touch ye. Ye're no fleyt at me, are ye?" "Na!" answered the child. "What for sud I be fleyt at you, sir? I'm Phemy Mair."
"Ye wud easy ken he had learned his singin' at the sea"; an' he glowered roond at him gey ill-natir'd like, an' says, "Haud your tung, ye roarin' cuif." Syne he grippit the fisher's hand wi' ane o' his, an' mine wi' the ither, an' startit An' here's a hand, my trusty fraend, eksettera.
But ye'll own, ye dour deevil, that were it no your very sell, I wad hae grippit the best man in the Hielands." "Ye wad hae tried, cousin," answered my guide, "that I wot weel; but I doubt ye wad hae come aff wi' the short measure; for we gang-there-out Hieland bodies are an unchancy generation when you speak to us o' bondage.
Phillips was lying on the sofa in the parlour, when he came in and terrified her by roaring for more brandy; and when I came in to settle him, he grippit me by the arm and threatened me with I don't know what, if I refused him. The mistress entreated me to turn him out of doors and so I did. He got on a horse of the master's I marvelled how he kept his seat and set off, and I felt easy in my mind.
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