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Updated: May 9, 2025
The eternal thunder of the rain was all about them; the clamor of the gale above; and far beneath, the roar of angry waters. Once, in a lull in the storm, the Master turned and looked back into the blackness along the path they had come. "Did ye hear onythin'?" he roared above the muffled soughing of the wind. "Nay!" Andrew shouted back. "I thowt I heard a step!" the Master cried, peering down.
A ship was in the offin'. She had distress signals flyin'. He could get neebody te man a boat but women; the men wadn't hev onythin' te dee wiv him, so his awn wife, Ailsie's Jenny, Nanny Dent, and Peggy Story went.
He chewed his lower lip in the effort to smother his disgust, and growled out with an angry grin: "Hoots, mon, ye ha'e gotten ower muckle already. It's fair redeeklus. I jist canna gi'e ye onythin' mair ava!" "Ah, but, master, you have forgotten that I am a great hunter. And that my son-in-law is a great hunter, too. This is but the outfit for a lazy man!
"Gin ye speer onythin' frae me," replied Carlyle's townie, after slowly surveying his questioner from head to foot, "A maun inform ye A ken naethin' bit gude o' Andraw; an' A hae warkit wi' him mair nir fowr minth. 'Deed, the puir body taks owre muckle thocht fir ithers, an' disna' spare himsel' ava.
He entered the tap-room silently with never a word to a soul; one arm was in a sling and his head bandaged. He eyed every man present critically; and all, except Tammas, who was brazen, and Jim Mason, who was innocent, fidgeted beneath the stare. Maybe it was well for Long Kirby he was not there. "Onythin' the matter?" asked Jem, at length, rather lamely, in view of the plain evidences of battle.
In the very midst of them, Gavin said: "What did the cratur mean when he spoke aboot 'mixed metaphors'? I never heard tell o' them before." "I'm not very sure," answered Andrew, cautiously; "he must have meant something." "'Mixed metaphors," mused Gavin, "an' the body wadna tak onythin'; it'll be somethin' they tak in Ameriky I'll ask Ronnie." Now Ronnie was the bartender!
"Can't you find some better place than this to do your dressing in?" "If I didn't comb my hair i' th' sandhills I wouldn't comb it at all," she returned. "It's the on'y place I have to do onythin' in. Mony a time when th' owd lad is fuddled, me an' my Aunt Nancy sleep on 'em." "Sleep out o' doors!" ejaculated John, much scandalised. "Aye, oftener than not, I can tell you.
Wull ye read it, Dominie, for my sake, and maybe ye 'ill come to see " and George could not find words for more. But Domsie understood. "Ma laddie, ma laddie, that I luve better than onythin' on earth, I'll read it till I die, and, George, I'll tell ye what livin' man does na ken. When I was your verra age I had a cruel trial, and ma heart was turned frae faith.
They tak', say, for instance, a burl maple bird's eye they call it in the factory, because it's full o' wee knots and twists that look like the eye of a bird. They saw it out in sheets no muckle thicker than writin' paper. Then they make up the funiture out of cheaper wood and cover it with the maple veneer, they call it. When it's all done and polished ye never saw onythin' grander.
Ye know they call him the Blind Deevil, forbye he onythin' but blind, an' no deevil in his dealin's wi' me McRimmon o' the Black Bird Line. "'What's here, Mister McPhee? said he. "I was past prayin' for by then. 'A Chief Engineer sacked after twenty years' service because he'll not risk the Breslau on the new timin', an' be damned to ye, McRimmon, I said.
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