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Updated: September 8, 2025
Ay, that was pittin' literature and genius to a glorious purpose indeed; and therefore nature and religion smiled on the wark, and have stamped it with immortality. North. Samuel was seventy years old when he wrote the Lives of the Poets. Shepherd. What a fine old buck! No unlike yoursel'. North. Would it were so!
It's mebbe a wakeness on ma pairt, but I whiles mak' messages into the room juist to see her sittin' pittin' stitches into that embroidery, as they ca' it, an' hear her gie that little lauch o' hers! She has me fair bewitched. There's a kinna glawmour aboot her. An' I tell ye I culdna stand her by onything at the first.... I even think her bonnie noo an' she's no' that auld.
"But, ma guid man, I haena a copper aboot me, or it's wullin' enough I'd be to gie ye a shullin' or so for this fine drive." "Well, off you get then the next time we stop." "But shurely ye wadna be pittin' a puir man oot o' yer waggon, or chapel, or whatever ye ca' it, whan there's sae mony empty pews? I'm no croodin' onyane, an' I'm wullin' enough to sit onywhere."
"Dry-fly fishin's my specialty," he said bitterly, "but no thank you! When I'm pittin' myself against a trout, it's my private purpose to be a better fisherman than he's a fish. Usin' what you've got would be like dynamitin' a stream. No sport in that! No! But this Big Jake, he doesn't act sporting with the public. I'd give a lot to stop him." "You'd get no credit for it," said Brink.
Ye min' that bit aboot the Lord pittin' Moses intil a clift o' the rock, and syne coverin' him wi' his han' till he was by him?" "Ay, fine that," answered Annie.
A 'm no sayin'," he summed up, "that Becca 'll gie the beadle the word back or refuse to dae his biddin', but she 'll be pittin' forrit her ain opeenions, an' that's no what he 's been accustomed tae in Drumtochty."
"Weel, it's jist half guissin', an' half a kin' o' jeedgment pittin things thegither, ye ken, my bairn. Ye see, I kent a' the bairns that come to oor kirk weel eneuch already. I ken the word and amaist the fit o' them. And I had heard tell 'at Maister Bruce was come to oor kirk. Sae when a lassie spak till me 'at I never saw afore, I jist a kin' o' kent 'at it bude to be yersel'."
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