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Updated: May 25, 2025
"Gin I had the loon that did it," she went on, fumbling, with a haste that defeated itself, at the knot that bound Hawkie's nose to the tail of the cadger's horse "gin I had the loon 'at did it, I wad ding the sowl oot o' his wame, the villain!" "Losh! it's my ain cat, as weel's my ain coo." screamed Lucky Wattles in twofold indignation.
Mitchell, who had gone for another freight of the linen with which she was sprinkling the hedge, arrived only in time to see the end of one of its long strings gradually disappearing into Hawkie's mouth on its way after the rest of the cap, which had gone the length of the string farther.
Should this have happened, it was in vain for Turkey to hope escape from the discovery of his inattention, for the milk-pail would that same evening or next morning reveal the fact to Kirsty's watchful eyes. But fortunately for us, in so far as it was well to have an ally against our only enemy, Hawkie's morbid craving was not confined to old shoes.
If he doesn't know the word, he can spell it, and then I shall know it at least if it's not longer than Hawkie's tail." Hawkie was a fine milker, with a bad temper, and a comically short tail. It had got chopped off by some accident when she was a calf. "There's something else short about Hawkie isn't there, Kirsty?" said my father. "And Mrs.
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