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Updated: May 22, 2025
"Or mebbe ye was wantin' the minister?" suggested another, the same who had walked out twice with Chirsty Duff and not married her after all. Sam'l could not think of a good reply at the moment, so he laughed good-naturedly. "Ondootedly she's a snod bit crittur," said Davit, archly. "An' michty clever wi' her fingers," added Jamie Deuchars.
He did not answer but stooped to take off his boots, and Mrs. Sinclair was soon out of bed and upon the floor. "Michty me, laddie! You are wringin' wet! Where have you been? Rain and glaur to the e'en holes!
The names of the boy's sponsors are recorded, as "Ane Hie and Michty Lord, Archibald Erl of Douglas, ane Honorabil and gude Knicht, Schir Patrick Charteris of Kinfauns, and ane Gracious Princess, Marjory Dowaire of his Serene Highness David, umquhile Duke of Rothsay."
"I do," answered Geordie; "and shall attend; but ye ken, I suppose, the difference that lies atween the ordinary jobs o' us cadies, and the like o' thae michty emprises, whar life and limb, and honour and reputation, are concerned.
The master looked round the school, and there was a flush on his cheek. "John Howieson," with a voice that knew no refusal, and Jock stood in his place. "Give me the laddie's name who savit Nestie." "It was Speug, sir, an' it wes michty; but a' wudna hae telt had ye no askit, an' it's no my blame," and Jock cast a deprecatory glance where Peter was striving to hide himself behind a slate.
One examination day the minister attended to open the inspection with prayer. Just as he was finishing, a scholar entered who had a reputation for dirt. "Michty!" cried a little pupil, as his opening eyes fell on the apparition at the door, "there's Jocky Tamson wi' his face washed!" When the dominie was a younger man he had first clashed with the minister during Mr.
Then, whan we were snug aboard the vessel, guidness only kens hoo mony miles we went afore we cam' fornenst the city o' Halifax, for we were three days on the michty ocean, at the mercy o' ony storm that micht come alang unawares.
"It's a michty howkin!" said Malcolm; "but for a' that it wadna haud ye frae the grip o' thae scoonrels: wharever ye ran they cud rin efter ye." "I think we cud sort them," said Phemy. But the hole's sae sma' at the laird has ill gettin' his puir hack throu' 't." "I couldna help won'erin' hoo he wan throu' at the tap there," said Malcolm.
"We have a' oor troubles, Sam'l," said Sanders, soothingly, "an' every man maun bear his ain burdens. Johnny Davie's wife's dead, an' he's no repinin'." "Ay," said Sam'l, "but a death's no a mairitch. We hae haen deaths in our family too." "It may a' be for the best," added Sanders, "an' there wid be a michty talk i' the hale country-side gin ye didna ging to the minister like a man."
This kind o' raggin' at ane anither gaed on for the feck o' the forenicht, an' we were juist i' the thick o' a' tirr-wirr aboot the best cure for the kink-host, when the doonstairs door gaed clash to the wa', an' in anither meenit in banged Sandy in his sark sleeves, an' his hair fleein' like a bundle o' ravelled threed. "Michty tak' care o' me, Sandy," says I, I says; "what's happened?"
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