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Updated: June 21, 2025
My friend was surprised by the words and before she could think of a suitable reply, the child continued "He tells the birdies to go down where it's warm and there are flowers all the time. Just a few stay here when it's cold and they have warm feathers. The bear and the foxes and the horsie and kitty, the Heavenly Father makes all their coats warm. He is very, very busy," she added impressively.
One beautiful animal leaned out of its stall and rubbed a velvet nose on Freddie's shoulder. "You like me, don't you, horsie?" asked the little chap. The horse whinnied, which might mean anything, but Freddie took it for "yes." "I guess maybe you'd like to have me get on your back," he said. "I got on one of Uncle Dan's horses once. I know how to ride."
But I'mb'un' to say, ootside the risk o' some mistak, o' the gr'un's o' which I can ken naething, for else I wadna hae made it,'at this bit horsie o' yours, by a' 'at my knowledge or skeel, which is naither o' them muckle, can tell me this bit horsie an' gien it binna as I say, I canNOT see what for it sudna be sae only, ye see, laird, whan we think we ken a'thing, there's a heap ahint oor A'THING; an' feow ken better, at least feow hae a richt to ken better, nor I du mysel', what a puir cratur is man, an hoo liable to mak mistaks, e'en whan he's duin' his best to be i' the richt; an for oucht 'at I ken, there may hae been grit discoveries made, ohn ever come to my hearin','at upsets a'thing I ever was gien to tak, an' haud by for true; an' yet I daurna withhaud the conclusion I'm driven til, for maybe whiles the hert o' man may gang the wrang. gait by bein' ower wise in its ain conceit o' expeckin' ower little, jist as weel's in expeckin' ower muckle, an' sae I'm b'un' to tell ye, laird,'at yer expectations frae this knot o'metal, for metal we maun alloo it to be, whatever else it be or bena yer expectations, I say, are a'thegither wrang, for it's no more siller nor my wife's kitchie-poker."
He observed that as each person pulled a ragwort, he or she got astride of it, and called out, "Up, horsie!" on which the ragwort flew off, like Pegasus, through the air with its rider. The foolish boy likewise pulled his ragwort, and cried with the rest, "Up, horsie!" and, strange to tell, away he flew with the company.
"Let me jump on your back, Munchie," said Uncle Wiggily, "and then we'll race after that runaway pony and grab off poor Jimmie. And run as fast as you can, Munchie!" "I certainly will!" cried Munchie. So Uncle Wiggily got on Munchie's back, and away they started after the runaway pony. Faster and faster ran Munchie, and by this time the other little horsie was getting tired.
Jeames regarded it for some time with interest, and examined it with care. "It's a bonny bit o' carved work," he said; " a bairnly kin' o' a thing for shape mair like a timmer horsie; but whan ye come to the ornamentation o' the same, it's o' anither character frae the roon' spots o' reid paint an' sae's the sma' rubies an' stanes intil 't.
Ance mair, gien ye wad but hearken til ane 'at confesses he oucht to ken, even sud he be i' the wrang, I tell ye that horsie is NOT siller na, nor naething like it." "Plague take the man! what is it, then?" cried the laird. "What for didna ye speir that at me afore?" rejoined Jeames. "It wad hae gien me leeberty to tell ye to the best o' my abeelity that is.
"Me go get wide myse'f," he murmured, and then, when no one was looking, he slipped under the corral fence. He was now toddling close to the heels of the bronco. "Nice horsie," said Trouble in his sweetest voice. "I get on your back an' have nice wide!" Trouble always had hard work to sound the r in ride. "Wide" he always called it. Nearer and nearer he came to the bronco.
This has taen a heap o' time, an' painsfu' labour a deal mair nor some o' 's wad think it worth, I doobt! It's the w'y o' the haithens wi' their graven eemages, but what for a horsie like this, I dinna ken. Hooever, that's naither here nor there: ye didna come to me to speir hoo or what for it was made; it's what is 't made o' 's the question.
I'm thinkin' gin ane o' the bairnies that he took upo' 's knee, an' he was ill-pleased wi' them 'at wad hae sheued them awa', gin ane o' them had hauden up his wee timmer horsie, wi' a broken leg, and had prayed him to work a miracle an' men' the leg, he wadna hae wrocht a miracle maybe, I daursay, but he wad hae smilet, or maybe lauchen a wee, and he wad hae men't the leg some gait or ither to please the bairnie.
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