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Updated: June 18, 2025
A fule and his siller's shune parted. Eh, but ye're a green callant!" he cried, "an' a veecious, tae! Cleikin' up wi' baubee-joes!" "If you dare to speak of the young lady ..." I began. "Leddy!" he cried. "Haud us and safe us, whatten leddy? Ca' thon a leddy? The toun's fu' o' them. Leddies! Man, it's weel seen ye're no very acquant in Embro'!" A clap of anger took me.
A fule and his siller's shune parted. Eh, but ye're a green callant!" he cried, "an' a veecious, tae! Cleikin' up wi' baubee-joes!" "If you dare to speak of the young lady ..." I began. "Leddy!" he cried. "Haud us and safe us, whatten leddy? Ca' thon a leddy? The toun's fu' o' them. Leddies! Man, it's weel seen ye're no very acquaint in Embro!" A clap of anger took me.
But as lang as siller's current, Deacon, folk maunna look ower nicely at what king's head's on't. 'I doubt Glossin will prove but shand after a', mistress, said Jabos, as he passed through the little lobby beside the bar; 'but this is a gude half-crown ony way.
A feckless loon of a Straven weaver, that has left his loom and his bein house to sit skirling on a cauld hill-side, had catched twa dragoon naigs, and he could neither gar them hup nor wind, sae he took a gowd noble for them baith I suld hae tried him wi' half the siller, but it's an unco ill place to get change in Ye'll find the siller's missing out o' Bothwell's purse."
The few shillings were laid on the dresser, where they remained unfingered until Hendry, with Leeby and Jamie, came in from church. "What siller's that?" asked Hendry, and then Jess confessed what she had done. "I wonder at ye, woman," said Hendry, sternly; and lifting the money he climbed up to the attic with it. He pushed open the door, and confronted the lodger.
It's no the money a man has in the bank that tells me whether he's a plain man or no. It's the way he talks and thinks and feels. I've aye felt mysel' a plain man. Oh, I've made siller I've done that for years. But havin' siller's no made me less a plain man. Nor have any honors that ha' come to me.
A feckless loon of a Straven weaver, that has left his loom and his bein house to sit skirling on a cauld hill-side, had catched twa dragoon naigs, and he could neither gar them hup nor wind, sae he took a gowd noble for them baith I suld hae tried him wi' half the siller, but it's an unco ill place to get change in Ye'll find the siller's missing out o' Bothwell's purse."
There's Maister Donal, the factor, gaein aboot like are in a dilemm as to cuttin 's thro't or blawin his harns oot! He daursna say a word, ye see! The auld laird trustit him, and he's feart 'at he be blamit, but there's nae duin onything wi' that wuman: the siller maun be forthcomin whan she's wantin 't! 'The siller's no hers ony mair nor the Ian'; a' 's the yoong laird's! remarked David.
Gibbie took his slate from the crap o' the wa' and wrote. "If money could do anything for him, I have plenty now." "I ken yer hert, my bairn," replied Janet; "but na; siller's but a deid horse for onything 'at smacks o' salvation. Na; the puir fallow maun warstle oot o' the thicket o' deid roses as best he can sair scrattit, nae doobt.
"Silver's e'en ower gude for the like o' him," replied Jenny, "that disna care for the blink o' a bonny lassie's ee and what's waur, he wad think there was something mair in't than a kinswoman o' mine. My certy! siller's no sae plenty wi' us, let alane gowd."
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