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Updated: June 22, 2025
She took me into the bed to make me promise that, and syne she died." "Does your father drina?" "He hauds mair than ony other man in Thrums," Micah replied, almost proudly. "And he strikes you?" Babbie asked, compassionately. "That's a lie," retorted the boy, fiercely. "Leastwise, he doesna strike me except when he's mortal, and syne I can jouk him." "What are you doing there?" "I'm wishing.
I wiss I cud juist get hauds o' the Bible on the drawers-heid, Bawbie. Did ye hear the mountins an' the rocks beginnin' to fa'?" "Come awa' 'oot ablo there, Sandy," I says, says I, "an' no' get your death o' cauld, an' be gaen aboot deavin fowk wi' you an' your reums.
"Ilka man, wuman, an' bairn o' them," answered Malcolm. "And what sort are they?" "Siclike as ye micht expec'." "That's not a very luminous answer." "Weel, they're nae waur nor ither fowk, to begin wi'; an' gien this hauds, they'll be better nor mony." "What sort are their leaders?" "Guid, respectable fowk, my lord." "Then there's not much harm in them?"
'Find trees in tongues, its running brooks in books, Stones in sermons, and I canna gang on ony farther wi' 't. The last's true ony gait. I winna gie ye ony toddy though." "I dinna want nane." "That's richt. Keep to that negation as an anchor o' the soul, sure and steadfast. There's no boddom to the sea ye'll gang doon in gin ye cut the cable that hauds ye to that anchor. Here's to ye!"
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