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Randolph did nothing to bring it up again; and Daisy lay quite still, while the storm raged in full fury, and the screams and ejaculations of the ladies were joined now and then by a word of impatience from one of the gentlemen, or a "Hech, sirs!" in Logan's smothered Scotch brogue. Once Mr.
You are too aged to walk up and down stairs," replied Claudia kindly. "Hech, sirs! I'm e'en reddy to haud me ain wi' any lassie i' the house," said she, nodding her tall, flapping white sap. "Will you tell me your name, that I may know in future what to call you?" Claudia asked. "It's e'en just Mistress Murdock, at your leddyship's bidding. And now I'll gae bring the tea."
Ze vild cat is growling! Hech Dummeldirroch! Behold Tollyvoddle, Ze Lord of ze Mountains!" Hardly had the reverberations of the chieftain's voice died away, when the Count, uttering a series of presumably Gaelic cries, advanced with the most dramatic air, and threw his broad-sword upon the ground.
They stared fixedly and listened with respect but beyond a rare "Hech!" they had no opinion to express. It became plain that the war was more than a mere rumour The lads who had been blown to bits or bayoneted! The widows and orphans that were left!
Randolph did nothing to bring it up again; and Daisy lay quite still, while the storm raged in full fury, and the screams and ejaculations of the ladies were joined now and then by a word of impatience from one of the gentlemen, or a "Hech, sirs!" in Logan's smothered Scotch brogue. Once Mr.
"You are going to meet a princess," said Patsy, polishing away; "and I intend that you shall do no discredit to Galloway." "A princess hech, let me get oot o' this," cried the angry gentleman-farmer, making attempts to reach the door; "I could not touch her, but I'd be feared that I could not keep my tongue off ony o' that breed." "Oh, she is none of 'that breed, as you say."
Bishopriggs, "looks with mair indulgence at human frailty than my ain sel'. Am I no' to be familiar wi' ye when I'm auld eneugh to be a fether to ye, and ready to be a fether to ye till further notice? Hech! hech! Order your bit dinner lassie. Husband or no husband, ye've got a stomach, and ye must een eat.
"I ken wha it is," suddenly squeaked a little fishwife; "it's Christie Johnstone's lad; it's yon daft painter fr' England. Hech!" cried she, suddenly, observing Mrs. Gatty, "it's your son, woman." The unfortunate woman gave a fearful scream, and, flying like a tiger on Liston, commanded him "to go straight out to sea and save her son." Jean Carnie seized her arm.
If my reader has seen and heard Mademoiselle Rachel utter her famous Sortez, in "Virginie," he knows exactly with what a gesture and tone the Johnstone uttered this word. "Hech! what a spite Flucker Johnstone's dochter has taen against us." Christie. "Scairt!" "Aweel! what's a' your paession, my boenny woman?" Christie. "Scairt!" Beeny retired before the thunder and lightning of indignant virtue.
"Hech, mon, wouldna that come nigh to mak' ye greet, to find the beast's red bluid splashed ower the leaves, and think o' him staggerin' on thro' the forest, drippin' the heart oot o' him wi' every step?" "But we didn't find any blood, you old sentimentalist. That shot in the dark was a clear miss.
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