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Updated: May 24, 2025
"Liars they are to trade," Spens declared to his companions, "but now and again they speak truth, like a standing clock, and I'm beginning to think the minister's lassie was invented in the square." "Not so," said the precentor, "for we saw her oursel's a short year syne, and Hendry Munn there allows there's townsfolk that hae passed her in the glen mair recently."
Frances, who was standing absolutely quiet and still again, smiled slightly. "You had something to talk to me about," she said, in her gentlest of voice. "To be sure I had. I can tell you I have my worries wonder I'm alive and since your mother died never a bit of sympathy do I get from mortal. There, read that letter from Spens, and see what you make of it. Impudent? uncalled for?
You've got to prevent Frances making herself and and others miserable all her life. Do you hear, Mr. Spens?" "Yes, I certainly hear, Miss Danvers. But how am I to alter or affect Miss Kane's destiny is more than I can at present say. You must explain yourself. I have a very great regard for Miss Kane; I like her extremely.
This defect of anything corresponding to our ballads of 'Chevy Chase, or 'Sir Patrick Spens, or 'Gil Morrice, in a poetry which is still so vital with the life of past centuries, is all the more remarkable because Italian history is distinguished above that of other nations by tragic episodes peculiarly suited to poetic treatment.
"No," Hendry replied. "It was Jean. She canna get to the meeting because the mistress is nervous in the manse by herself; and Jean didna like to tell her that he's missing, for fear o' alarming her. What are we to do now?" "He's an unfaithful shepherd," cried the precentor, while Hendry again went out. "I see it written on the walls." "I dinna," said Spens doggedly.
Then her pleasant thoughts vanished, and she uttered an annoyed exclamation. "What does Mr. Spens want? Why should he trouble my father to-day of all days?" "What is the matter, Frances?" "That man in the gig," said Frances. "Do you see him? Whenever he comes, there is worry; it is unlucky his appearing just when you come to us, Fluff. But never mind; why should I worry you?
Yet they were never without a voice. The Robin Hood ballads are full of humor; they are full, too, of English outdoor life, of hunting and fighting. Of quite another style is the ballad of Sir Patrick Spens. That takes us away from the green, leafy woods and dells of England to the wild, rocky coast of Scotland. It takes us from the singing of birds to the roar of the waves.
"When Mistress Ogilvie made that remark," replied the Reverend Ronald, "she had no idea that it would ever touch the shoulders of the martyred Sir Patrick Spens. Now, I happen to love " Francesca hung out a scarlet flag in each cheek, and I was about to say, 'Don't mind me! when he continued
Upon these occasions Jack Chase was often called out, and regaled us, in his own free and noble style, with the "Spanish Ladies" a favourite thing with British man-of-war's-men and many other salt-sea ballads and ditties, including, "Sir Patrick Spens was the best sailor That ever sailed the sea." also,
We were properly abashed, and ducked our heads discreetly at once, but were reassured by hearing him run rapidly towards us, calling, "Stop, if you please! Have you anything on just now are you busy?" We answered that we were quite at leisure. "Then would you mind coming in to help us play 'Sir Patrick Spens'? There aren't enough of us to do it nicely."
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