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Updated: May 26, 2025
Even with three wicks it gave but a stime of light, and never allowed the weaver to see more than the half of his loom at a time. Sometimes Cree used threads for wicks. He was too dull a man to have many visitors, but Mr. Dishart called occasionally and reproved him for telling his mother lies.
Even with three wicks it gave but a stime of light, and never allowed the weaver to see more than the half of his loom at a time. Sometimes Cree used threads for wicks. He was too dull a man to have many visitors, but Mr. Dishart called occasionally and reproved him for telling his mother lies.
While she stood irresolute, the man of whom she spoke chanced to turn the corner, and ran against her, somewhat roughly. "Hallo! is that you?" he demanded, in tones that told too clearly where he had been spending the night. "Yes, Ned, it's me. I was just thinking about going home." "Home, indeed 'stime to b'goin' home. Where'v you bin? The babby 'll 'v bin squallin' pretty stiff by this time."
I maun hae been terrible tired. 'I telled ye sae! cried Kirsty. 'Jist gang ower the story to me, Francie, and I s' tell ye whether ye're a cooard or no. I dinna believe a stime o' 't! Ye never was, and never was likly to be a cooard. I s' be at the boddom o' 't wi' whaever daur threpe me sic a lee!
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