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Updated: May 17, 2025
"Stuff it down, avic, an' what's to come o' the wather?" said Bryan. "Ah! true, dat is perplexible, vraiment." At this moment the large pot boiled over and a cloud of scalding steam engulfed the sympathetic Frenchman, causing him to yell with mingled pain and rage as he bounded backwards. "Musha! but ye'll come to an early death, Losh, if ye don't be more careful o' yer dried-up body."
"Losh! the body's cracked," said Mungo Boyd, astounded at this nicety. "I was to meet her to-night; does she know I'm here?" "I rapped at her door mysel' to mak' sure she did." "And what said she?" "She tauld me to gae awa'. I said it was you, and she said it didna maitter." "Didna maitter!" repeated the Chamberlain, viciously, mimicking the eastland accent. "What ails her?"
"Your faither!" exclaimed he, opening his mouth and eyes to their full width, and standing for a moment the picture of surprise "Gude gracious! ye dinna say sae! is he really your faither? Losh, man, do you no ken, then, that I'm your cousin! Ye've heard o' your cousin, Willie Stewart." "Fifty times," replied I.
This improved form of rail and chair was embodied in a patent taken out in the joint names of Mr. Losh, of Newcastle, iron-founder, and of Mr. Stephenson, bearing date 30th September, 1816. Mr.
'I tellt ye sae! he exclaimed triumphantly. 'An' I tellt you, retorted Robert, with an equivocation altogether unworthy of his growing honesty. 'I was cocksure that cudna be a fiddle. There's the fiddle i' the hert o' 't! Losh! I min' noo. It maun be my grandfather's fiddle 'at I hae heard tell o'.
He seemed even more sprightly and active than formerly, but was a good deal darker in complexion, and much travel-stained. Indeed, the whole party bore marks of having roughed it pretty severely for some time past among the mountains. Edith's face was decidedly darker than when she left Moose, and her short frock considerably shorter in consequence of tear and wear. "Bad luck to ye, Losh!
He made his way to the foggy gate, drew bolt and chain from the left wicket. A young man stepped through. "Losh, mon," he remarked with a Yankee accent, "it's a fearful nicht to be abroad." "Come on in," said McKay, re-locking the wicket. "This way; follow me."
"Ay, oh, I d'na kin, moderate, moderate," said Sam'l, in high delight. "I saw ye," said Eppie, speaking with a wire in her mouth, "gae'in on terr'ble wi Mysy Haggart at the pump last Saturday." "We was juist amoosin' oorsels," said Sam'l. "It'll be nae amoosement to Mysy," said Eppie, "gin ye brak her heart." "Losh, Eppie," said Sam'l, "I didna think o' that."
A few moments and he was startled by a slight noise, as of suppressed laughter. He jumped up. One of the curtains of his bed was strangely agitated. Out leaped Gibbie from behind it, and threw his arms about him. "Eh, cratur! ye gae me sic a fleg!" said Donal. "But, losh! they hae made a gentleman o' ye a'ready!" he added, holding him at arms length, and regarding him with wonder and admiration.
At last the man, laying his "boax" on the ground, stood up to ease his spine, so that his face was visible. "Losh, it's Jock Gilmour, the orra man at Gourlay's! What'll he be doing out on the street at this hour of the day? I thocht he was always busy on the premises! Will Gourlay be sending him off with something to somebody? But no; that canna be. He would have sent it with the carts."
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