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Updated: May 27, 2025
It is a night of rain or snow, and my mother, the little girl in a pinafore who is already his housekeeper, has been many times to the door to look for him. At last he draws nigh, hoasting. Or I see him setting off to church, for he was a great 'stoop' of the Auld Licht kirk, and his mouth is very firm now as if there were a case of discipline to face, but on his way home he is bowed with pity.
But when he was come there, his weakness and disease grew daily more and more, so that no application of any strength durst be used towards him. It came to that, he kept his chamber still to his death, wearing and wasting hoasting, and sweating. Ten days before his death his sweating went away, and his hoasting lessened, yet his weakness still encreased, and his flux still continued.
They waylaid Grizel, when she was alone, and thus assailed her, she answering not a word. "What's a father?" "She'll soon no have a mither either!" "The Painted Lady needs to paint her cheeks no longer!" "Na, the red spots comes themsels now." "Have you heard her hoasting?" "Ay, it's the hoast o' a dying woman." "The joiner heard it, and gave her a look, measuring her wi' his eye for the coffin.
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