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Updated: June 10, 2025
When the champions are gude I can manish twa load i' the day fine, an' if the disease keeps oot amon' them, they pey no that ill." Meg's man gey a kind o' a whistle in laich, an' I saw fine syne whaur he had tint himsel'. Meg had tell'd him Sandy was a tattie merchant, an' he'd been thinkin' Sandy had a big wey o' doin', an' sell'd tatties in shiploads an' so on.
Gien ye canna get the tae doctor, awa wi' ye to the tither, and dinna ley him till ye see him i' the saiddle and startit. Syne ye can ease the mere, and come hame at yer leisur; he'll be here lang afore ye! Tell him I'll pey him ony fee he likes, be't what it may, and never compleen! Awa' wi' ye like the vera deevil!"
He didna say muckle, but I'll swag he gey Pottie a neg on Teysday nicht that he'll no forget in a hurry nether will Mistress Mollison. Mind ye, I didna think Sandy was so deep. It was a gey trick. Sandy was determined to pey aff Pottie in his ain coin, an' he had gotten Bandy Wobster to kollig wi' him to gie Lawson a richt fleg.
He's an awfu' haiverin' body the Smith sometimes. When he's sensible, he's juist akinda ridic'lously sensible; an' when he's' no', he's juist as far the ither wey. "Deputations is aye anonimous," says Sandy. "They aye turn up wi' a nomdy plum. It's juist the men's modesty that keeps them oot o' sicht. They pey a' their veesits throo the nicht, an' fient a cratur kens eechie or ochie aboot them.
"I wouldn't have you build too much upon that, Mistress Croale," said Mr. Sclater, glad to follow the talk down another turning, but considerably more afraid of rousing the woman than he had been before. The remark drove her behind the categorical stockade of her religious merits. "I pey my w'y," she said, with modest firmness.
"Hoots! for shame, Mistress Catanach!" he cried, "Here's my leddy ahin' me, hearin' ilka word!" "Deil stap her lugs wi' brunstane! What but a curse wad she hae frae me? I sweir by God i s' gar her pey for this, or my name's no " She stopped suddenly. "I thocht as muckle," said Malcolm with a keen look. "Ye'll think twise, ye deil's buckie, or ye think richt! Wha are ye to think?
As soon as she perceived it would be hard work to unseat him, the mare was quiet. "Bravo!" cried the marquis, giving him the letter. "Will there be an answer, my lord?" "Wait and see." "I s' gar you pey for't, gien we come upon a broon rig atween this an' Kirkbyres," said Malcolm, addressing the mare, and rode away.
"What right, then, had you to remain and listen to my disclosure?" said Malcolm. "If you be guilty of such a mean trick as betray me and ruin my plans, no honest man in Portlossie or Scaurnose but will scorn you." "There! tak ye that!" said Peter. "An' I s' promise ye, ye s' never lay leg ower the gunnel o' my boat again. I s' hae nane but Christi-an men i' my pey."
Burns's shop, an' hauding a heap o' conference wi' im about them; an' I tell ye, sir, they're maistly a' di'mon's; an' the nummer o' thoosan' poun' they maun be worth gien they be worth a saxpence, I daurna guess!" "They'll be eneuch to pey oor debts ony gait, ye think, Cosmo?" "Ay, that wull they an' mony a hun'er times ower. They're maistly a guid size, an' no a feow o' them lairge."
"She micht hae kenned her secret would be safe wi' me!" "I micht hae said the same, but for the w'y ye spak o' her this vera meenut! Whaur is she, mother? Whaur's Isy?" "'Deed, she's made a munelicht flittin o' 't!" "I telled ye she would never tell upo me! Hed she ony siller?" "Hoo can I tell?" "Did ye pey her ony wages?" "She gae me no time!
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