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Updated: May 6, 2025
There was ane 'at thoucht them 'at was far waur nor me, guid eneuch company for him; an' maybe I may sit doon wi' him efter a', wi' the help o' my bonnie wee Sir Gibbie. I canna help ca'in' him wee Sir Gibbie a' the toon ca'd 'im that, though haith! he'll be a big man or he behaud.
"Ay! an' what micht that be?" "But she's maybe a freen' o' yours, Mrs Findlay? Some fowk likes her, though I canna say I'm ane o' them." "Freen' o' mine!" exclaimed the Partaness. "I wadna wonner! for they tellt me 'at saw her fechtin' i' the High Street wi' a muckle loon, near han' as big 's hersel'! an' haith, but Meg had the best o' 't, an' flang him intil the gutter, an' maist fellt him!
For the honest first mate I had a great liking, and was touched beyond speech when he enjoined me to keep his shore suit as long as I had want of it. "But you will be needing it, MacMuir," I said, suspecting he had no other. "Haith! I am but a plain man, Mr. Carvel, and ye can sen' back the claw frae London, wi' this geordie."
There he sat on his dowp, an' cawed the shuttle and smiled like creish. "God be guid to us," says Tam Dale, "this is no' canny!" He had jimp said the word, when Tod Lapraik cam to himsel'. "Is this you, Tam?" says he. "Haith, man! I'm blithe to see ye. I whiles fa' into a bit dwam like this," he says; "it's frae the stamach."
Thoroughly ashamed of himself, Donal threw his book from him, and ran to meet Gibbie. "Ye maunna fling stanes, cratur," he said. "Haith! it's no for me to fin' fau't, though," he added, "sittin' readin' buiks like a gowk 'at I am, an' lattin' the beasts rin wull amo' the corn, 'at's weel peyed to haud them oot o' 't! I'm clean affrontit wi' mysel', cratur."
A French voyageur lifted his throat in a peculiar shout that was half a bark. Indians and half-breeds snowshoed down the street beside the sled. At the door of the McRae house stood Angus, his wife, and daughter. "God wi' you haith," the trapper called. Jessie waved a scarf, and Beresford, who had spent the previous evening with her, threw up a hand in gay greeting.
It's no the place for ane 'at has to hide 's heid for verra shame o' slippin' aff the likes o' himsel' upo' sic a braw mither! Could he get nae ither door to win in at, haith!" "Woman, you 'll drive me mad!" said the other. "Weel, hinney," returned the former, suddenly changing her tone, "I'm mair an' mair convenced 'at yon's the verra laad for yer purpose.
For the honest first mate I had a great liking, and was touched beyond speech when he enjoined me to keep his shore suit as long as I had want of it. "But you will be needing it, MacMuir," I said, suspecting he had no other. "Haith! I am but a plain man, Mr. Carvel, and ye can sen' back the claw frae London, wi' this geordie."
There he sat on his dowp, an' cawed the shuttle and smiled like creish. "God be guid to us," says Tam Dale, "this is no canny!" He had jimp said the word, when Tod Lapraik cam to himsel'. "Is this you, Tam?" says he. "Haith, man! I'm blythe to see ye. I whiles fa' into a bit dwam like this," he says; "it's frae the stamach."
"Ow ay! as sic fowk ca' carin'. There's no a bla'guard i' the haill queentry he wadna sell her till, sae be he was o' an auld eneuch faimily, and had rowth o' siller. Haith! noo a days the last 'ill come first, an' a fish cadger wi' siller 'ill be coontit a better bargain nor a lord wantin 't: only he maun hae a heap o' 't, to cower the stink o' the fish."
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