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Updated: May 23, 2025
So, wishfu' tae keep this bit hoosie tae mysel' seein' 't was haunted as they ca' it I juist kep' up the illusion on account o' trampers, wanderin' gypsies, an' sic-like dirty tykes. Eh! but 'twas fair graund tae see 'em rinnin' awa' as if the de'il were after them, spierin' back o'er their shoulders, an' a' by reason of a bit squeakie o' the pipes, here. An' so, sir, ye hae it."
Mony a time, Sanders, I hae said to mysel, 'There's a lass ony man micht be prood to tak. A'body says the same, Sanders, There's nae risk ava, man: nane to speak o'. Tak her, laddie, tak her, Sanders; it's a grand chance, Sanders. She's yours for the spierin'. I'll gie her up, Sanders." "Will ye, though?" said Sanders. "What d'ye think?" asked Sam'l. "If ye wid rayther," said Sanders politely.
"The verra question she'd be askin' ye'sel' wha' gars ye tae come gowkin' an' spierin' aboot here at sic an hour?" "It is my intention to live here, for the future," said I. "Hoot toot! ye'll be no meanin' it?" "But I do mean it," said I. "Eh, man! but ye maun ken the place is no canny, what wi' pixies, an' warlocks, an' kelpies, forbye "
"Gie me the dog; an' dinna ye tak' him oot ony mair wi'oot spierin' me." The children fled. Traill saw the caretaker lift Bobby over the wicket to his arms, and start with him toward the lodge. He was perishing with curiosity about this astonishing change of front on the part of Mr. Brown, but it was a delicate situation in which it seemed best not to meddle.
There's nae risk ava, man: nane to speak o'. Tak her, laddie, tak her, Sanders; it's a grand chance, Sanders. She's yours for the spierin. I'll gie her up, Sanders." "Will ye, though?" said Sanders. "What d'ye think?" asked Sam'l. "If ye wid rayther," said Sanders, politely. "There's my han' on't," said Sam'l. "Bless ye, Sanders; ye've been a true frien' to me."
She was greetin' an' I couldna' get oot o' spierin' at her what was wrang, an' she telt me her ain self." "You dinna mean tae tell me that Mysie Maitland has disappeared? In the name o' a' that's guid, what has happened to bring aboot sic news?" "Aye, it's true, Nellie," replied Mrs. Johnstone, feeling very important now that she knew Mrs. Sinclair had not heard the news.
I forbid you to go!" his mother quavered. "You must have more respect for us. Why, what will people say?" "To hell with what people say! They'll say it, anyhow," roared old Hector. Away down in his proud old heart he felt a few cheers rising for his son's manly action, albeit the necessity for that action was wringing his soul. "'Tis no time for idle spierin'. Away with you, lad!
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