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Updated: June 27, 2025
"Are your shure?" began the auld ass again; an' me stanin' near frozen to death wi' cauld, an' cudna get oot o' the bit. "Never!" said Beek; "never!" "Gude-nicht, than, dearie, an' see an' no' forget me. Will ye no'?" "Ye needna be feared, Jeems. I luve you alone, an' nae ither body i' the wide, wide world. Gude-nicht, my Jeemie." "Gude-nicht, than, Ribekka, luvie. An' if you dinna forget "
I'm jist in a trimle to think what's to come oot o' 't a'! God only kens! we can but sit still and wait his appearance! What think ye, Jeemie? Whan the Lord was deid upo' the cross, they waitit but twa nichts, and there he was up afore them! here we hae waitit, close on a haill fortnicht and naething even to pruv that she's deid! still less ony sign that ever she'll speyk word til's again!
Wad ye disgrace him afore a' the beggars o' Tiltowie?" "Ay, and afore God, that kens a'thing ohn onybody tellt him! Han's and hert I s' be clear o' this abomination!" "Merry a wuman 'at was ta'en wi' a wat finger! a maiden that never said na! Merry a lass that's nae maiden, nor ever will be! Hoots!" "And wha's to blame for that?" "Hersel." "Jeemie! Jist Jeemie! I'm fair scunnert at ye, Mirran!
"I doobt, father, I'm no likly to preach ony mair: I've come to see 'at I never was fit for the wark, neither had I ever ony ca' til't." "It may be sae, Jeemie," answered his father; "but we'll haud awa frae conclusions till ye're better, and able to jeedge wi'oot the bias o' ony thrawin distemper."
"I doobt ye micht come upo twa afore ye wan throw the million! A million's a heap o' women!" "All I care to say is, that gien Jeemie binna ready to lea' father and mother and kirk and steeple, and cleave to that wuman and her only, he's no a mere gomeril, but jist a meeserable, wickit fule! and I s' never speyk word til 'im again, wi my wull, gien I live to the age o' auld Methuselah!"
Were he to leave her fold for a fold in very truth, and not a sty, it appeared to her and wander away to Jock Thamson's or Jeemie Deuk's, he would be drawn into loud and indecorous talk, probably into quarrel and uproar. In a few minutes George returned, an odd contrast visible between the upper and lower halves of his face. Hearing his approach she met him at the door.
He'll never come to health o' body or min' till he's confest, and God has forgien him. He maun confess! He maun confess!" "Hoot, Peter, dinna be sae suspicious o' yer ain. It's no like ye to be sae maisterfu' and owerbeirin. I wad na lat ae ill thoucht o' puir Jeemie inside this auld heid o' mine! It's the lassie, I'll tak my aith, it's that Isy's at the bothom o' 't!"
"Aye wad I til ony ane that's nearer His likness nor himsel and that ane's oor Isy! I wadna won'er, Jeemie, gien ye war fit for a drive the morn! In that case, I s' caw ye doon to the toon, and lat ye say yer ain say til her." James did not sleep much that night, and nevertheless was greatly better the next day indeed almost well. Before noon they were at the soutar's door.
But we better gang til oor sleeps, lass! We hae ane anither, come what may!" "That's true, Peter; but aye the mair I hae you, the mair I want my Jeemie!" cried the poor mother. The father said no more. But, after a while, he rose, and stole softly to his son's room.
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