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Preserve's a', when I lookit into the garret, here's the skylicht open, an' twa lang, skranky legs, wi' a pair o' buggers at the end o' them, wammlin' aboot like twa rattlesnakes tryin' to get to the fluir. I drappit the claes, oot at the door, an' steekit it ahent me. I keekit in aneth the door, juist to see what wud happen.
"Glenwarlock, yoong sir, ken ye what ye're duin'? The Lord preserve's! he's an innocent!" she added, turning with an expression of despair to Aggie, who regarded the two with a strange look. "Grizzie!" cried Cosmo, in no little astonishment, "what on earth gars ye luik like that at the mention o' ane wha has this moment helpit us oot o' the warst strait ever we war in!"
Robbie! Johnnie! We're a' beeriet alive!" "Preserve's a', Robert! what's happent?" cried his wife, rushing from the kitchen. "I'm no beeriet, that I ken o'," cried Robert the younger, entering from the yard. His father rushed to the back-door, and, to his astonishment and relief, saw the whole world about him. It was a private judgment, then, upon him and his shop.
'Preserve's a'! cried Rob; but or he could say anither word, butt the house, scushlin in her bauchles, comes Nancy, rinnin', an' opens the door wi' a scraich: 'Preserve's a'! quo' she, 'Robert, the lum's in a low! An' fegs! atween the twa reeks, to sunder them, there was nothing but Nancy hersel.
I lookit doon, an' shure eneuch my taes were turned oot an' curled roond like's they were gaen awa' back ahent my heels. Mistress Kenawee got doon on her knees aside me. "Preserve's a', Bawbie," says she; "you have your buits on the wrang feet! Nae winder than your knees were knokin' thegither wi' thae auld worn-doon heels turned inside, an' your taes turned oot."
"Eh, preserve's! sic a nicht, Peter Whaup!" said Peter's wife to Peter as he sat by the fire with his cutty in his teeth. "It'll be an awfu' spate." "Ay will't," rejoined Peter. "There's mair water nor whusky already. Jist rax doon the bottle, gudewife. It tak's a hantle to quawlifee sic weet's this. Tak' a drappy yersel', 'oman, to haud it oot." "Ye hae had plenty, Peter. I dinna want nane.
Only I doobt I'll be lang awa afore that, for it taks time to fess a man like that till's holy senses." The sixth of the family now entered, and his mother led him up to the bed. "The Lord preserve's!" cried Donal Grant, "it's the cratur! An' is that the gait they hae guidit him! The quaietest cratur an' the willin'est!" Donal began to choke. "Ye ken him than, laddie?" said his mother.
But the look of pitying and yet deprecating concern in Mr Cupples's face fixed him so that he could say nothing. Mr Cupples turned and walked slowly away, with only the words: "Eh! bantam! bantam! The Lord hae pity upo' ye�-and me too!" He went out at the door bowed like an old man. "Preserve's, Mr Cupples! What ails ye?" exclaimed his landlady meeting him in the passage.
"The Lord preserve's!" cried Dow, and could say no more. "He has preserved me, ye see, Jeamie. Hoo's my mother?" "She's brawly, brawly, Mr Alec. The Lord preserve's! She's been terrible aboot ye. Ye maunna gang in upo' her. It wad kill her." "I hae a grainy sense left, Jeamie. But I'm awfu' tired. Ye maun jist turn yer cairt and tak' me hame. I'll be worth a lade o' coal to my mither ony gait.
But whether his thoughts were of T'nowhead's Bell, whom he had lost for ever, or of the food the farmer fed his pig on, is not known. "Lord preserve's! Are ye no at the kirk?" cried Bell, nearly dropping the baby as Sam'l broke into the room. "Bell!" cried Sam'l. Then T'nowhead's Bell knew that her hour had come. "Sam'l," she faltered.
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