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Updated: May 14, 2025
Bittie doggies an' laddies are fair daft aboot the soldiers. Ay, he's bonny, an' weel cared for, by the ordinar'. I wonder gin he's still leevin' i' the grand auld kirkyaird." Wary of her remembered endearments, Bobby kept a safe distance from the maidie, but he sat up and lolled his tongue, quite willing to pay her a friendly visit.
A leebrary canna be made a' at ance, ony mair nor a hoose, or a nation, or a muckle tree: they maun a' tak time to grow, an' sae maun a leebrary. I wadna even ken what buiks to gang an' speir for. I daursay, gien I war to try, I cudna at a moment's notice tell ye the names o' mair nor a twa score o' buiks at the ootside. Fowk maun mak acquantance amo' buiks as they wad amo' leevin' fowk."
Will Wallace stood awaiting his turn, and watching the first band of prisoners march off. Suddenly he observed Andrew Black coupled to Quentin Dick. They passed closed to him. As they did so their eyes met. "Losh, man, is that you?" exclaimed Black, a gleam of joy lighting up his sombre visage. "Eh, but I am gled to see that yer still leevin'!"
"That's true, mem, an' it canna be I sud ever forget yon face ye shawed me i' the coffin, the bonniest, sairest sicht I ever saw," returned Malcolm, with a quaver in his voice. "But what for cairry yer thouchts to the deid face o' her? Ye kent the leevin' ane weel," objected Miss Horn. "That's true, mem; but the deid face maist blottit the leevin' oot o' my brain." "I'm sorry for that.
I can whiles sing an auld sang but mak' a new ane! Lord, man! I can hardly believe 'at ever I made a sang i' my life. Luik at my han' hoo it trimles. Luik at my hert. It's brunt oot. There's no a leevin' crater but yersel' that I hae ony regaird for, sin my auld mither deid. Gin it warna for buiks, I wad amaist cut my throat.
Ye'll hae to pay a shullin' or twa to a barber, an' Bobby'll be sae set up there'll be nae leevin' wi' 'im. Sit ye doon an' tell me aboot the collar, man." "I can no' stop now to wag my tongue. Here's the gude-wife. I'll just help her get you awa' to your bed." It was dark when he returned to the gate, and the Castle wore its luminous crown.
"I s' tell her mysel'," returned Malcolm. "But, gentlemen, I beg o' ye, till I ken what I 'm aboot an' gie ye leave, dinna open yer moo' to leevin' cratur' aboot this. There's time eneuch for the warl' to ken 't." "Your lordship commands me," said Mr Soutar. "Yes, Malcolm, until you give me leave," said Mr Graham. "Whaur 's Mr Morrison?" asked Malcolm. "He is still in the house," said Mr Soutar.
In these adornments he would walk proudly to church, leaning on the arm of his grandson. "I doobt he'll be slippin' awa some cauld nicht," said the other: "his leevin' breath's ill to get." "Ay; he has to warstle for't, puir man! Weel, he'll be missed, the blin' body! It's exterordinor hoo he's managed to live, and bring up sic a fine lad as that Malcolm o' his."
'Oh, man, it was a gruesome place, said Nicol, who did not want to make too little of the perils he had encountered. 'What did ye see? 'How could I see anything? But I felt plenty on the way down; and I'm sure it's fu' o' creeping things and beasts. And then when I was near the foot, I put my hand on something leevin', and it flew up and hit me; and in a meenit the whole place was alive.
It 'll be jist gran' to hae a cratur sae near leevin' to guide an' tak yer wull o'! I had nae idea she was gaein' to be onything like sae bonny. I'll no be fit to manage her in a squall though. I maun hae anither han'. An' I winna hae a laddie aither. It maun be a grown man, or I winna tak in han' to baud her abune the watter. I wull no. I s' hae Blue Peter himsel' gien I can get him.
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