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Updated: June 3, 2025
"Weel, guid day to ye laird!" returned Jeames. "Only," he added, drawing a step nearer, and speaking in a subdued confidential voice, "dinna lat yer harsie rin awa' upo' the ro'd hame, for I sweir til ye, gien there be only trowth i' the laws o' natur, he's no siller, nor onything like it " "Hoots!" said the laird, and turning away, walked off with great strides.
I ken they're all right; they're beeblical. But I didna say them beeblically; I said them for sweir words that's the truth of it." "Hout, ye silly bairn!" said the father, "dinna do it nae mair, and come in by to your supper." And he took the boy, and drew him close to him a moment, as they went through the door, with something very fond and secret, like a caress between a pair of lovers.
'I swear 't, Robert; I sweir 't upo' her, said the soutar hurriedly, stretching out both his hands as if to receive some human being into his embrace. Robert placed the violin in those grimy hands.
In the mornings I would be at it with mattock and spade delving hard at the founds, and I had the great days sliping stones. Indeed, I became so strong and proud of myself that you will see to this day on that hillside the dents I struck on great boulders, that now I would be sweir to move.
Meantime Shargar was standing on the stones, looking like a terrified white rabbit, and shaking from head to foot with cold and fright combined. 'I'll tak him oot o' this, but it's up the stair, Betty. An' gin ye gang benn the hoose aboot it, I sweir to ye, as sure 's death, I'll gang doon to Muckledrum upo' Setterday i' the efternune. 'Gang awa' wi' yer havers.
"It was the drink," rejoined Malcolm; "an' eh sir! afore ye rise frae that bed, sweir to the great God 'at ye'll never drink nae mair drams, nor onything 'ayont ae tum'ler at a sittin'." "I sweir't; I sweir't, Ma'colm!" cried the factor. "It's easy to sweir't noo, sir, but whan ye're up again it'll be hard to keep yer aith.
From a sudden influx of energy, Alec stretched his hand likewise towards the same glass, and laying hold on it as Mr Cupples was raising it to his lips, cried: "I sweir to God likewise And noo," he added, leaving his hold of the glass, "ye daurna drink it." Mr Cupples threw glass and all into the fire. "That's my fareweel libation to the infernal Bacchus," he said.
"Ye'll be far hen wi' the markis, nae doobt! An' yon donnert auld deevil ye ca' yer gran'father 'ill be fain eneuch to be drummer, I'll sweir. Care 's my case!" "My leddy, she's ower ill tongued for you to hearken till," said Malcolm, turning to Florimel who stood in the door white and trembling. "Jist gang doon, an' tell my gran'father to sen' the dog up.
"Bantam," said Mr Cupples solemnly, "I sweir to God, gin ye'll gie ower the drink and the lave o' yer ill gaits, I'll gie ower the drink as weel. I hae naething ither to gie ower. But that winna be easy," he added with a sigh, stretching his hand towards his glass.
"I'll sweir ony lawfu' aith 'at ye like to lay upo' me," protested Angus, "'at I'll dee whatever ye please to require o' me." "I dinna doobt ye wad sweir; but what neist?" said Janet. "What neist but ye'll lowse my han's?" rejoined Angus.
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