United States or Montenegro ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"Ye see, sir," he said, "noo 'at SHE'S gane, it maitters naething to Aggie or me whaur we are or what comes o' 's." "But wadna she hae said the same, gien it had been you 'at was gane, Jeames?" asked the laird. "'Deed wad she! She was aye a' thing for ither fowk, an' naething for hersel'! The mair cause she sud be considered the noo!"
'There's just ae thing, an' nae anither, returned the manufacturer, 'that I cannot excuse in a watch. Gin a watch gangs ower fest, ye fin' 't oot. Gin she gangs ower slow, ye fin' 't oot, an' ye can aye calculate upo' 't correck eneuch for maitters sublunairy, as Mr. Maccleary says.
Then, with a sudden consciousness of the case of Archie, "No that it maitters for men sae muckle," she made haste to add, "but there's naebody can deny that it's unwomanly.
There's nane o' them left, but there's the rucks they're no soomin' yet! I want to gang to the Lord, but I maunna weet Willie Mackay's claes." "It's a sair peety," said Janet, "'at the men fowk disna learn to weyve stockin's, or dee something or ither wi' their han's. Mony's the time my stockin' 's been maist as guid's a cloaset to me, though I cudna jist gang intil't. But what maitters 't!
In the inadvertence of grief, she ran into the shop. "What hae ye gotten there, lassie?" said Bruce, as sharply as if she might have stolen it. "Mr Cowie gave me his Bible, 'cause he's dein' himsel', and doesna want it ony langer," answered Annie. "Lat's luik at it." Annie gave it up with reluctance. "It's a braw buik, and bonnie buirds though gowd an' purple maitters little to the Bible.
The wife's in there wi' what's left o' her, greitin as gien she wad greit her een oot. Eh, but she lo'ed her weel: Doon she drappit, and no even a moment to say her prayers!" "That maitters na muckle no a hair, in fac!" returned the soutar. "It was the Father o' her, nane ither, that took her. He wantit her hame; and he's no are to dee onything ill, or at the wrang moment!
"What is your name, my man?" he enquired. "Ma name is Malcolm McNish. 'A doot ye have na har-r-d it. But the name maitters little. It's the question 'A'm speerin' asking at ye." Here was no amateur in the business of Grievance Committees. His manner was that of a self-respecting man dealing with a fellow-man on terms of perfect equality.
"Thank ye kindly, sir," returned Isy. "I am a bit tired! But I won'er ye kenned me!" "Weel, I canna jist say I ken ye by the name fowk ca' ye; and still less div I ken ye by the name the Lord ca's ye; but nowther maitters muckle to her that kens He has a name growin for her or raither, a name she's growin til!
Then, with a sudden consciousness of the case of Archie, "No that it maitters for men sae muckle," she made haste to add, "but there's naebody can deny that it's unwomanly.
It maitters na to me whilk side o' my teeth I chow wi'. But I winna sweir till I ken the trowth 'at I may haud off o' 't. He's the man, though, gien we can get a grip o' 'im! He luiks the richt thing, ye see, mem. "Insolent wretch!" "Caw canny, mem 'thing maun be considered. It wad but gar the thing luik, the mair likly. "It's a wicked lie," burst with indignation from the other.