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We wasna lang set doon when in cam' Meg's man. A brisk-lookin' fellah he is, I can tell you. He shook hands wi's as hearty's though we'd come to gie him a job; an' in five meenits, tooch, you wudda thocht Sandy an' him had never been sindered sin' they got on their first daidles. I'll swag, Meg's fa'in on hex feet, an' nae mistak'!
"Hoot! ye're a witch, Mistress Catanach!" said Malcolm merrily. "That's as may be," she returned, rising, and nodding mysteriously; "I hae tauld ye nae mair nor the trowth. But what garred ye whup's a' oot o' oor nakit beds by five o'clock i' the mornin', this mornin', man! That's no what ye're paid for." "Deed, mem, it was jist a mistak' o' my puir daddy's.
"But the thinkin' o' Sam'l Fletcher's case is ane o' the things 'at maks me awfu' thankfu' for the lenient wy the Lord has aye dealt wi' me; for Sam'l couldna move oot o' the chair, aye sleepin in't at nicht, an' I can come an' gang between mine an' my bed. Mebbe, ye think I'm no much better off than Sam'l, but that's a terrible mistak.
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