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Updated: April 30, 2025
Preserve me! if he's only an echteent pairt o' the Toon Cooncil, shurely common sense 'ill lat you see that the Toon Cooncil's bigger than he is. Ony bit loonie in the tower-penny cud see that in a blink."
Yince they saw his heid appear abune water, still wi' his face to the other side; and then they got his body, for the tide was rinnin' low in the mornin'. I tell't them a' I kenned o' him, and they were sair affected. "Puir cratur," said yin, "he's shurely better now." So we brocht him up to the house and laid him there till the folk i' the town had heard o' the business.
"Bliss my hert, Bawbie," says Sandy, gettin' akinda peppery, "shurely to peace a scone's bigger than a bit o' a scone." "There's nae doot aboot that," says I, "if the scone that you have a bit o' is nae bigger gin the scone that's bigger gin the bit o' the ither ane." "That's teen for grantit, of coorse," says Sandy.
"Contemplatin' that ugly anymal below air enough to make me. It a'most druv me out o' my mind to think o' his black ungratefulness. Now, seein' hisself through the sight of a rifle 'ithin good shootin' distance, shurely ye don't intend we shud let him go!" "Certainly not. That would be ruin to ourselves. We must either kill or capture him.
He lookit me up an' doon, an' then booin' doon till he was for a' the world juist like a half-steekit knife he roars oot, "What's ado wi' your feet, Bawbie? Look at them! Your taes are turned oot juist like the hands o' the tnock, at twenty meenits past echt. You're shurely no genna tak' a parrylattick stroke."
"This is shurely the end o' the world comin'," said Mistress Kenawee, near greetin'. "O dear me, I think something's genna come ower me." "Tuts 'oman, sit doon," says Dauvid, altho' he was in a fell state aboot her. I cud see that brawly. The sicht o' the puir wafilly budy akinda drave the fear awa frae me; an' I maskit a cup o' tea, an' crackit awa till her till we got her cowshined doon.
We saw the muckle lamp up abune the brig juist like a lichthoose twenty mile awa'. Sandy was widin' aboot amon' the mud, an' his lorn shune liftin' wi' a noisy gluck, juist like a pump aff the fang. "I think this is shurely the Sloch o' Dispond we've gotten intil, Bawbie," says he. "It looks liker the Wardmill Dam," says I, I says; "but if I get oot o't livin', I'll lat the pileece hear o't.
There's some ane o' the three o's no' very soond i' the tap, shurely; an' whuther it's me or no', I raley canna mak' oot." But what I want to lat you see is that I do thae daft-like things sometimes, I dinna very weel ken hoo. I canna tell ye what wey it comes aboot. Is ony o' ye lads ever affekit like that?
Oh, whaur are ye, Bawbie?" "Wha i' the earth is he, or what's ado wi' him?" I heard somebody speer. "Gude kens," said anither voice. "It's shurely some milkman wi' the bloo deevils." "Milkman! What wud a milkman do wi' an umberell, a portmanty, an' a lum hat?" Juist at that meenit Sandy cam' fleein' alang the passage again, an' by this time a' the fowk in the hotel were oot on the stairs.
"Bliss me, Sandy man," says I, "that's the wind soochin' throo the trees in the banker's gairden, an' fizzin' in amon' the pipes o' the water barrels. It's shurely an awfu' nicht o' wind." Juist at this meenit you wudda thocht the very deevil himsel' had gotten grips o' the frame o' oor winda.
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