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"Hoo's gran'mamma?" asked Cosmo. "Ow, duin' weel eneuch, sir weirin awa' bonny. She has naither pang nor knowledge o' sorrow to tribble her. The Lord grant the sowls o' 's a' sic anither lowsin'!" "Hae ye naething better nor cauld watter to gie 'im a drink o', Grizzie, wuman?" asked the laird, but in mere despair.
"The best o's tempts Providence at a time, and when a man like the Doctor tries tae rin aifter his dog jidgment canna be far off. A 'm no sayin'," John concluded, with characteristic modesty, "that onybody cud tell what was coming, but a' jaloused there wud be tribble."
Dat's de tribble wid dis yer worl'; w'en hit change yo' fortune hit don' look ter changin' yo' skin es well." "That's true; but you're doing all right, I hope?" "I dunno, Marse Tuck," replied Uncle Isam, coughing as a sudden spurt of smoke issued from the old stone chimney. "I dunno 'bout dat. Times dey's right peart, but I ain't. De vittles dey's ready ter do dar tu'n, but de belly, hit ain't."
A've naither wife nor bairns o' ma own, an' a coont a' the fouk o' the Glen ma family. Div ye think a' wudna save Annie if I cud? If there wes a man in Muirtown 'at cud dae mair for her, a'd have him this verra nicht, but a' the doctors in Perthshire are helpless for this tribble.
Ye see they're juist tryin' the Scripture plan o' heapin' coals o' fire on yer head. "Here ye've been negleckin' the fouk in seeckness an' lettin' them dee afore their freends' eyes withoot a fecht, an' refusin' tae gang tae a puir wumman in her tribble, an' frichtenin' the bairns no, a'm no dune and scourgin' us wi' fees, and livin' yersel on the fat o' the land.
"It's nae ceremony the day, ye may lippen tae it; it's the hert brocht the fouk, an' ye can see it in their faces; ilka man hes his ain reason, an' he's thinkin' on't though he's speakin' o' naethin' but the storm; he's mindin' the day Weelum pued him out frae the jaws o' death, or the nicht he savit the gude wife in her oor o' tribble.
But whan I see ye in tribble eh, mony's the time I haud my tongue till my hert's that grit it's jist swallin' in blobs an' blawin' like the parritch whan its dune makin', afore tak it frae the fire! for I hae naething to say, an' naither coonsel nor help intil me. But last nicht, whan I leukit na for't, there cam a thoucht intil my heid, an' seein' it was a stranger, I bad it walcome.
The marquis uttered a frightful imprecation, left the door, and, sitting down, hid his face in his hands. Miss Horn rose, but instead of securing her retreat, approached him gently and stood by his side. "My lord," she said, "I canna thole to see a man in tribble.
His tribble hes melted Lachlan's heart, an' it's in the Evangel, ye ken he's become as a little child." This language was too figurative and imposing for the parish, but it ran henceforward in our modest speech, "He's a cautious body."
Not thinking of danger, he and a Captain Tribble halted their horses by the side of a bubbling spring and dismounted to get a drink, the rest of the guard passing on. They lingered longer than they thought, and had just remounted their horses when they were suddenly surprised by three horsemen, who came galloping up, yelling to them to surrender.
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