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Updated: May 4, 2025
Why, Nonie darlin', fwhat are ye doin' out av your mother's bed at this time? The two-year-old child of Sergeant M'Taggart must have wandered for a breath of cool air to the very verge of the parapet of the Fort ditch. Her tiny night-shift was gathered into a wisp round her neck and she moaned in her sleep. 'See there! said Mulvaney; 'poor lamb! Look at the heat-rash on the innocint skin av her.
Morrison had packed their 'young leddies'' personal belongings, part in boxes to be taken to London, and part locked away in a room in the old home, of which David M'Taggart had the key, and into which, he solemnly assured his late young mistresses, no one should enter but himself.
"Ho! it's weary waitin' for Ma-ary!" he hummed; "but I'd like to kill some more bloomin' Paythans before my time's up. War! Bloody war! North, East, South, and West." "Amen," said Learoyd, slowly. "Fwhat's here?" said Mulvaney, checking at a blurr of white by the foot of the old sentry-box. He stooped and touched it. "It's Norah Norah M'Taggart!
They'll not spoil, for they are old and well-made, and there'll only be the wife and me and Jamie, that's our son and heir ahem! a quiet, well-behaved young fellow and none of us will knock it about; besides, your man M'Taggart has agreed condescended I might say to stay on with us for the present, and he'll be free to write and tell you if it's being badly used; and we'll put a clause in the agreement that if M'Taggart thinks it is in bad hands you have the right to order its removal in twenty-four hours, announced Mr.
"Robin Fordyce," says the old lady severely, "what garred ye loose Heatherbell in among the neeps. "I'm sorry, mother. But I met Jean M'Taggart in the road, and we stopped for a bit crack." The old lady surveys her son witheringly over her glasses. "Dandering wi' Jean M'Taggart at your time of life! I'll sort Jean M'Taggart when I see her. It's jist like her tae try and draw a lad from his duty.
Why, Nonie, darlin', fwhat are ye doin' out av your mother's bed at this time?" The two-year-old child of Sergeant M'Taggart must have wandered for a breath of cool air to the very verge of the parapet of the Fort ditch, Her tiny night-shift was gathered into a wisp round her neck and she moaned in her sleep. "See there!" said Mulvaney; "poor lamb!
M'Taggart, op. cit. i. p. 35. Ibid. Mrs. Jameson, Studies and Rambles in Canada, i. p. 98. A Long-treasured Letter, from Matthew Fowlds and Other Fenwick Worthies, Kilmarnock, 1910, pp. 205-11. Strickland, Twenty Seven Years in Canada West, i. p. 35. M'Taggart, op. cit. i. p. 201. This statement I modify below in dealing with the violence which disfigured political life in Canada at this time.
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