Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 13, 2025
"There's where it is, sir," answered Travers. "I seed the boy aboard before, and when he come aboard again, jest arter you left, I never as much as said to myself, It's all right. I axed him no questions, and he told me no lies." "Gien ye please, sir," struck in Davy, "Maister Trahvers gied me my mait, an' I tuik it, 'cause I hed no sil'er to buy ony: I houp it wasna stealin', sir.
"Ye dinna think I wad tak it wantin' leave, Phemy!" returned the laird. "Mony a supper hae I made this w'y, an' mony anither I houp to mak. It'll no be this sizzon though, for this lot's the last o' them. They're fine aitin', but I'm some feart they winna keep." "Wha gae ye leave, sir?" persisted Phemy showing herself the indivertible guardian of his morals as well as of his freedom.
"Dinna greet like that, Bell wumman, sae lang as Saunders is still living'; a'll never give up houp, for ma pairt, till oor ain man says the word. "A' the doctors in the land dinna ken as muckle aboot us as Weelum MacLure, an' he's ill tae beat when he's trying tae save a man's life." MacLure, on his coming, would say nothing, either weal or woe, till he had examined Saunders.
'I trust it's the glory o' God, laddie. 'I houp that's no a'thegither wantin', grannie. For I love God wi' a' my hert. But I doobt it's aftener the savin' o' my earthly father nor the glory o' my heavenly ane that I'm thinkin' o'. Mrs. Falconer heaved a deep sigh. 'God grant ye success, Robert, she said. 'But that canna be richt. 'What canna be richt?
What wad ye convert me till? A swine? Or a sma' peddlin' crater that tak's a bawbee mair for rowin' up the pigtail in a foul paper? Ca' ye that conversion? I'll bide as I am." "It's waste o' precious time speikin' to you, Mr Cupples," returned Bruce, moving off with a red face. "'Deed is't," retorted Cupples; "and I houp ye winna forget the fac'? It's o' consequens to me."
That my father had a lass-bairn o' 's ain shawed mair nor onything the trust your father pat in 'im! Francie, the verra grave wud cast me oot for shame 'at I sud ance hae thoucht o' sic a thing! Man, it wud maist drive yer leddy-mither dementit! 'It's my business' Kirsty, wha I merry! 'And I houp yer grace 'll alloo it's pairt my business wha ye sail not merry and that's me, Francie!
Everything seemed about to come right again. But his master remained silent. "I houp my leddy's weel," ventured Malcolm at length. "Quite well. She's with Lady Bellair, in Edinburgh." Lady Bellair was the bold faced countess. "I dinna like her," said Malcolm. "Who the devil asked you to like her?" said the marquis. But he laughed as he said it. "I beg yer lordship's pardon," returned Malcolm.
It jist drave oot a' gude and loot in a' ill. 'Wull ye lat me tak this wi' me, grannie? said Robert; for though the portrait was useless for identification, it might serve a further purpose. 'Ow, ay, tak it. I dinna want it. I can see him weel wantin' that. But I hae nae houp left 'at ye'll ever fa' in wi' him. 'God's aye doin' unlikly things, grannie, said Robert, solemnly.
"Ow! lea' ye that to me, my lord. Only dinna imagine I wad be behauden to yer lordship. I houp I hae mair pride nor that. "By Jove! it's a daring proposal!" said the marquis; and, which seemed strange to Malcolm, not a single thread of ridicule ran through the tone in which he made the remark. The next day came, but brought neither strength of body nor of mind with it.
He was stooping over it, his lens in his eye, busy with a watch, of which several portions lay beside him protected from the dust by footless wine-glasses, when the laird and Cosmo entered. He put down pinion and file, pushed back his chair, and rose to receive them. "A fine mornin', Jeames!" said the laird. "I houp ye're weel, and duin' weel."
Word Of The Day
Others Looking