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"Save us!" exclaimed Meg Kissock, "the craitur's prayin' to the Ill Body himsel'." Ebbie Farrish began to clear away the peat, which was, indeed, no difficult task. I wad rayther hae yersel', Maister o' Sawtan, for ye are a big mensefu' deil. Ouch! I'm dune for noo, althegither; he haes gotten puir Jock! Sirce me, I smell the reekit rags o' him!"
But among the older saints of the parish that "series of expositions" was not forgotten. Sirce me, there are no such discourses to be heard now-a-days not even from himsel'!" And be it remembered that our dear Doctor could unbend that is, in fitting time and place.
"I saw a minister lad the day a stranger," said Winsome, very quietly. "Sirce me," returned her grandmother briskly; "kenned I e'er the like o' ye, Winifred Chayrteris, for licht-heedit-ness an' lack o' a' common sense! Was he young, or auld or no sae verra auld, like mysel'? Did he look like an Establisher by the consequence o' the body, or "
Sandy Bowden 'ill hae me i' my grave yet afore my time, as share's I'm a livin' woman. There's no' a closed e'e for me this nicht; an' there's Sandy awa' till his bed wi' his airms rowed up in bits o' an auld yellow-cotton apron o' Mistress Mikaver's mither's. Eh, sirce me; an' me was so happy no' mony 'oors syne!
I trust that your good man here is not jealous, for beauty, you well do ken, ever sends the wits of a Douglas woolgathering. At this the dame cast up her hands and her eyes again. "Eh, what will Marget Ahanny o' the Shankfit say noo this frae the Yerl William. Eh, sirce, this is better than an Abbot's absolution. I declare 'tis mair sustainin' than a' the consolations o' religion.
"Weel, ye gied me an unco rive aff that blackguard frae the Castle, gin that was a guid turn, I ken na!" So grumbling, Jock Gordon came to the upper level of the bridge, paddling unconcernedly with his bare feet and ragged trousers through the shallows. "Weel, na hae ye a snuff aboot ye, noo that I am here? No dear sirce, what wad I no do for a snuff?"
An' what for didna Maister Welsh or you write to say ye war comin'? An' whaur's a' the buiks an' the gear?" continued John Bairdieson. "I have walked all the way, John," said Ralph. "I quarrelled with the minister, and he turned me to the door." "Dear sirce!" said John anxiously, "was't ill-doing or unsound doctrine?" "Mr. Welsh said that he could not company with unbelievers."
Eh, sirce, if you had only seen oor street! The beach ootby at the Saut Pan, whaur there's a free coup for rubbitch, was naething till't! It juist mindit me o' the picture, in oor big Bible, o' Jerusalem when the fowk cam' back frae Babylon till't it was juist a' lyin' a cairn o' lowse steens an' half bricks. There's neen o's 'ill forget Friday nicht in a hurry, or I'm muckle misteen.
Puir man, he has mibby mair than me to thole; but I wudda gien a five-pound note 'at I hadna left my ain hoose this nicht. I'll awa' to my bed, for my hert's perfeckly i' my moo. Eh, sirce me, what a nicht we had on Setarday mornin'! O, haud your tongue! Though I should live lang eneuch to bury Sandy Bowden, an' hae a golden weddin' wi' my second man, I'll never forget it.
Almost he had fallen backwards when he saw the use to which his daring sons had put the emblem of royal authority. "Guid save us a', laddies," he cried, staggering across the flag into the tent, "ken ye what ye do? The royal banner o' the King o' Scots to mak' a floor-clout o'! Sirce, sirce, in three weeks I shall be as childless as the Countess o' Douglas is this day."
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