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Updated: May 9, 2025
"There'll maybe be one if I catch the Tinker that stole the geese!" Mr McQueen said grimly. Mrs McQueen laughed. "It's the fierce one you are to talk," she said, "and you that good-natured when you're angry that you'd scare not even a fly! Come along now to bed with you," she added to the Twins. "There you sit with your eyes dropping out of your heads with sleep."
Cock-a-doodle-doo! "Wake up, Larry darling," cried Eileen from her bed. "The morn is upon us, and we are not ready for the Fair." Larry bounded out of bed, and such a scurrying around as there was to get ready! Mrs McQueen was already blowing the fire on the hearth in the kitchen into a blaze, and the kettle was on to boil.
"'Tis not unlikely," Mr McQueen answered. "He comes home sometimes with parties of gentlemen and ladies for a bit of shooting or fishing." "Maybe he'll come to the Fair," Eileen said to Larry. "Sure, he'd never miss anything so grand as the Fair and he being in this part of the world," said Larry.
When the old doctor came home now on cold nights it was not with his cravat in his pocket, and Grizel knew very well who had put it round his neck. McQueen never had the humiliation, so distressing to an old doctor, of being asked by patients to send his assistant instead of coming himself.
Mother, I see you will never be satisfied without selecting the woman for me yourself." "Ay, Gavin," said Margaret, earnestly; "and I question if I should be satisfied even then. But I am sure I should be a better guide to you than Dr. McQueen is." "I am convinced of that. But I wonder what sort of woman would content you?"
"It is my opinion, doctor," said Gavin, "that you will have bones to set before that game is finished. I can see nothing but legs now." "Don't say a word against curling, sir, to me," said McQueen, whom the sight of a game in which he must not play had turned crusty. "Dangerous! It's the best medicine I know of. Look at that man coming across the field. It is Jo Strachan.
McQueen hobbling home from the Forest Muir; he did not hobble as a rule, but hobble everyone must on that misshapen brae, except Murdoch Gelatley, who, being short in one leg elsewhere, is here the only straight man.
The day wore on to noon, and still ribaldry was master of the wynds. But there was a change inside the houses. The minister had pulled down his blinds; moody men had left their looms for stools by the fire; there were rumors of a conflict in Andra Gowrie's close, from which Kitty McQueen had emerged with her short gown in rags; and Lang Tammas was going from door to door.
"Sure, skipper, it looks that way, an' no mistake," said Bill Brennen. "The saints be wid ye for the kind heart ye has for helpless women an' childer, an' for yer love o' Father McQueen, an' for the work ye bes at to build the little church; but most of all, skipper, for the kind heart o' ye to every helpless woman an' child."
Then the Twins and Dennis told the story all over again, and Mrs McQueen took the little pig in her apron. "The poor little thing!" she said. "Its heart is beating that hard, you'd think its ribs would burst themselves. I'll get it some milk right away this minute when once you've looked in the yard." Mr McQueen and Dennis and the Twins went to the fence.
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