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Updated: May 6, 2025
Strickland rose and came to the bedside, and the two watchers gave him water and wine to drink, and would have had him, when the fit was over, cease from all speech. He shook them off. "Alexander, ye're like me. Ye're mair like me than any think! Where ye find your Grierson of Lagg, clench with him clench Alexander!" He coughed, lifting himself in their arms. A blood-vessel broke.
"I read the 'Ghost of the Stone Castle, a most fascinating story, and that ghost always rattled chains, and made a terrible noise." "What did it turn out to be?" asked Aunt Kate. "The story didn't say. No one ever found out." "Well, this one is exactly like Mr. Lagg described," spoke Grace, "chains and all. What could it have been?"
"White and rattles," murmured Betty. "I have it it's a pan full of white dishes. Some lone camper goes down to wash his dishes in the lake every night, and that accounts for it." "Then we'll ask the lone camper to scamper!" cried Grace with a laugh. "We want peace and quietness." "And you are really going to camp on Elm Island?" asked Mr. Lagg, as he put the purchases aboard.
Lagg, being too interested to quote verses now. "It was him as told me about the clanking chains," he went on, "but, as I said, I don't take no stock in that part." "I guess Hi was telling one of his fish stories," commented Frank. "Oh, Josh Whiteby seen it, too," said Mr. Lagg. He was enjoying the sensation he had created. "Is he reliable?" asked Will.
"You must be fixing for a long voyage," he remarked. "No, we are going to camp over on Elm Island," said Betty. The storekeeper started. "What! With the ghost?" He nearly dropped a package of fresh eggs. "Really, Mr. Lagg, is there er anything really there?" asked Mollie, seriously. "Well, now, far be it from me to cause you young ladies any alarm," said Mr. Lagg, "but I only repeat what I heard.
"I mean I haven't made up any poetry about that. I have about almost everything else in my store. Let me see soda soda " He seemed searching for a rhyme. "Pagoda! Pagoda!" laughed Betty. "That is it!" exclaimed Mr Lagg. "Thank you for the suggestion. Let me see, now. How would this do? "If you wish to drink of Lagg's fine soda, Just take your seat in a Chinese pagoda!"
"Chocolates and olives are good for the boys, And to the girls they also bring joys." Thus remarked Mr. Lagg. The crowd of young people were in his store, stocking up the Gem for a resumption of her cruise on Rainbow Lake. It was several days after the finding of the missing saddle and the papers. The latter had been sent to Mr.
"All his life my father dreamed of grappling with Grierson of Lagg. My Grierson of Lagg stands before me in the guise of a false friend and lover!... What do I care for your weighing to a scruple how much the heap of wrong falls short of the uttermost? The dire wrong is there, to me the direst! Had I deep affection for you once?
George Winrahame, a bigot Papist." Fountainhall, quoted by Napier, iii. 457. This Winrahame may be the Winram who had to do with the Wigtown Martyrs. According to "The Cloud of Witnesses," "The actors of this cruel crime Was Lagg, Strachan, Winram, and Grahame." A letter more or less in a name was of no account in the cacography of those times.
Thus the Duke of Lauderdale is said, through old age but immense corpulence, to have become so sunk in spirits, 'that his heart was not the bigness of a walnut. I have heard in my youth some such wild tale as that placed in the mouth of the blind fiddler, of which, I think, the hero was Sir Robert Grierson of Lagg, the famous persecutor.
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