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Updated: June 11, 2025
He wore tags of yarn round his trousers beneath the knee, that looked like ostentatious garters, and frequently his jacket of corduroy was put on beneath his waistcoat. If he was too old to carry his load on his back, he wheeled it on a creaking barrow, and when he met a friend they said, "Ay, Jeames," and "Ay, Davit," and then could think of nothing else.
"But ye ken, Grizzie," suggested Jeames, "we're no to return evil for evil, nor flytin' for flytin'!" "Ca' ye that flytin'?" cried Grizzie. "Ye sud hear what I didna say! That was flytin'! We'll be tried by what we can do, no by what we canna! An' for returnin' evil, did I no haud the dog frae the deithshanks o' 'im?" The laird and Cosmo had spent as usual a quiet and happy Sunday.
"Whan saw ye Donal?" asked Janet of Nicie. "No this lang time no sin' I was here last," answered Nicie, who did not now get home so often as the rest. "I was thinkin'," returned her mother, "ye sud 'maist see him noo frae the back o' the muckle hoose; for he was tellin' me he was wi' the nowt' i' the new meadow upo' the Lorrie bank, 'at missie's papa boucht frae Jeames Glass."
Ellen's heart is breaking for handsome Jeames of Buckley Square, whose great legs are kneeling, and who has given a lock of his precious powdered head, to some other than Ellen. Henry is preparing the sauce for his master's wild-ducks while the engines are squirting over his own little nest and brood. Lift these figures up but a story from the basement to the ground-floor, and the fun is gone.
Jeames Street, and which fitted my manly figger as tight as whacks. "There was ONE pusson in the house with womb I was rayther anxious to evoid a persnal leave-taking Mary Hann Oggins, I mean for my art is natural tender, and I can't abide seeing a pore gal in pane.
Jeames was generous; indeed he had come home with the intention of scattering largess. A beggar met him one day on the brae, and got a shilling from him. She was waving her arms triumphantly as she passed Hendry's house, and Leeby got the story from her. "Eh, he's a fine man that, an' a saft ane," the woman said. "I juist speired at 'im hoo his bonny wife was, an' he oot wi' a shillin'!"
One day in the panic week, our friend Jeames called at our office, evidently in great perturbation of mind and disorder of dress. He had no flower in his button-hole; his yellow kid gloves were certainly two days old.
At a slight motion of one of the doors, an audible start of expectation broke like an electric spark from the still people. But nothing came of it. They had to wait full five minutes yet before the messenger returned, bearing the large volume in both hands in front of him. "Tak' the buik up to Mr Turnbull, Jeames, and snuff his can'les," said Thomas.
But he could not get rid of the notion that he had smelt sulphur. The following night, three of the Scaurnose fishermen Blue Peter, Bow o' meal, and Jeames Gentle called at the schoolmaster's cottage in the Alton, and were soon deep in earnest conversation with him around his peat fire, in the room which served him for study, dining room, and bed chamber.
I vithered vith despair, Missis VOULD ring the parler bell, And call up Jeames in Buckley Square. "Last year he visper'd 'Mary Ann, Ven I've an under'd pound to spare, To take a public is my plan, And leave this hojous Buckley Square. O how my gentle heart did bound, To think that I his name should bear. 'Dear Jeames. says I, 'I've twenty pound; And gev them him in Buckley Square.
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