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Updated: May 20, 2025
"Weel, Robert," began the latter, after they had jogged on in silence for half a mile or so, "what's to be done wi' little Annie Anderson and her Auntie Meg, noo that the douce man's gane hame, an' left them theroot, as't war?" "They canna hae that muckle to the fore efter the doctor an' a' 's sattled for." "It's no to be thought. "Jeames Dow luikit weel after the farmin', though." "Nae doot.
"I luikit lang intil her angel face, but I was feart to speak, for I wasna worthy. The road was bricht eneuch, but I wasna fit to gang. "'I ken what yir thinkin' o', faither. I ken yir enemy an' God kens. It's the drink. But it'll pass yir lips nae mair. I'll kiss them, faither, an' they'll burn wi' the awfu' thirst nae mair.
I wadna believe sic an ill thing as that. I dinna think I cud believe 't, gin ye war to pruv 't to me. 'I don't believe it. Nobody could prove that either, even if it were so. I am only miserable that I can't prove the contrary. 'Suppose there war a God, Mr. Do ye think God cud stan' to be pruved as gin he war something sma' eneuch to be turned roon' and roon', and luikit at upo' ilka side?
'There's no man, she wad say, whan her father wad be pressin' upo' the subjec', 'there's no mortal man, but yersel', worth the turn o' my ee. An' the father, puir man, was ower weel pleased wi' the flattery to be sae angry wi' her as he wad fain hae luikit.
Malcolm had taken the child from her, and was clasping him to his bosom. "He's the warst rascal, Lizzy," he said, "'at ever God made an' the deevil blaudit." "Na, na," cried Lizzy; "the likes o' him whiles kills the wuman, but he wadna du that. Na, na, he's nae the warst: there's a heap waur nor him." "Did ye see my mistress?" asked Malcolm. "Ow ay, but she luikit sae angry at me, I cudna speyk.
"Weel, I'm obleeged to ye," replied the old woman. "There's been but feow o' yer kin, be their fau'ts what they micht, wad forget ony 'at luikit for a kin' word or a kin' deed! Aggie, lass, ye'll convoy him a bittock, willna ye?"
For wee Jessie stood beside the bed, an' I luikit at her an' I said, 'My little dochter. 'Twas a' I could say, an' she pit her saft haun' on my heid sae gentle, an' sae blessed cool, for my heid was burnin' hot. She luikit lang, an' her een was fu' o' love: 'Faither, she said, 'did ye no' promise yir lassie to meet her in the Faither's hoose?
And again Malcolm sang: There was an auld fisher he sat by the wa', An' luikit oot ower the sea; The bairnies war playin', he smilit on them a', But the tear stude in his e'e. An' it's oh to win awa', awa'! An' it's oh to win awa' Whaur the bairns come home, an' the wives they bide, An' God is the Father o' a'!
Malcolm had taken the child from her, and was clasping him to his bosom. "He's the warst rascal, Lizzy," he said, "'at ever God made an' the deevil blaudit." "Na, na," cried Lizzy; "the likes o' him whiles kills the wuman, but he wadna du that. Na, he's nae the warst; there's a heap waur nor him." "Did ye see my mistress?" asked Malcolm. "Ow ay; but she luikit sae angry at me, I cudna speyk.
An' she cam an' cam, doon an' doon, an' on to the bog; an' for a' the weicht o' her airmour she sankna a fit intill 't. An' she cam, an' she stude, an' she luikit at me; an' I hed seen her afore, an' kenned her weel. An' she luikit at me, an' aye luikit; an' I winna say what was i' the puir worm's hert.
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