United States or Aruba ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
How long will it be till the turn of the tide?" He looked up, and observed a lad at work, at some little distance from us, mending a net. "Tammie Bright!" he shouted at the top of his voice. "I hear you!" Tammie shouted back. "When's the turn of the tide?" "In an hour's time." We both looked at our watches. "We can go round by the coast, Mr.
The glimpse which he had of his own back the night of his escape from the quicksand his own footmarks disappearing into the quicksand with no return steps visible the prophecy of Saft Tammie about his meeting himself and perishing in the quicksand all lent aid to the conviction that he was in his own person an instance of the döppleganger.
Not the least of his disturbing causes was Saft Tammie, who had now become at certain times of the day a fixture at his gate. After a while, being interested in the previous state of this individual, he made inquiries regarding his past with the following result. Saft Tammie was popularly believed to be the son of a laird in one of the counties round the Firth of Forth.
He heard the hours strike one after the other; but try how he would he could not get to sleep. Over and over again he went through the horrible episode of the quicksand, from the time that Saft Tammie had broken his habitual silence to preach to him of the sin of vanity and to warn him.
One evening the tide then going out and the moon being at the full he was sitting waiting for dinner when the maid announced that Saft Tammie was making a disturbance outside because he would not be let in to see him. He was very indignant, but did not like the maid to think that he had any fear on the subject, and so told her to bring him in.
Sandy keepit his temper something winderfu', an' he juist quietly set doon Nickerbucker Tammie on the seat an' says, "Ay, loonie; juist you sit still there till your mither gie's your nose a dicht, an' ties your gartins; an' you'll get a piece an' jeely on't when the trainie stops."
"I'm Donald," she announced: and burst out with the song: "We're gayly yet, we're gayly yet; We're not very fou, but we're gayly yet: Then sit ye awhile, and tipple a bit; For we're not very fou, but we're gayly yet." She snatched up Carmina's medicine glass, and waved it over her head with a Bacchanalian screech. "Fill a brimmer, Tammie! Here's to Redshanks!"
After that they met the faery ferryman, who according to Sandy "wore a wee kiltie o' reeds, an' a tammie made frae a loch-lily pad wi' a cat-o'-nine-tail tossel, lukin' sae ilk the brae ye wad niver ken he was a mon glen ye dinna see his legs, walkin'." He told them how he ferried over all the "old bodies" who had grown feeble-hearted and were too afraid to swim.
It really seemed as though his newer and worser self had disappeared for ever; and strangely enough Saft Tammie was absent from his post that morning and never appeared there again, but sat in his old place watching nothing, as of old, with lack-lustre eye.
"It is impossible to leave them," said Lovel "What is to be done? Hark! hark! did I not hear a halloo?" "The skreigh of a Tammie Norie," answered Ochiltree "I ken the skirl weel." "No, by Heaven!" replied Lovel, "it was a human voice." A distant hail was repeated, the sound plainly distinguishable among the various elemental noises, and the clang of the sea-mews by which they were surrounded.
Word Of The Day