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Updated: April 30, 2025
"Sassenach fool!" said young MacLachlan, parched with thirst, gathering in with a scooped hand the snow as it fell on the wall, and gluttonously sucking it. "There are many kinds of folly, man," said I; "and I would think twice before I would grudge a cleric's right to give a mouthful of water to a dying man, even if he was a Mac Donald on his way to the Pit." "Tuts, tuts!
Good God, I wouldn't be elsewhere for worlds. It's the great hour of my life. I would gladly die for her." "Tuts, that's no' the way to talk, man. Time enough to speak about dying when there's no other way out. I'm looking at this thing in a business way. We'd better be seeing the ladies."
It's you that ought to be down there, not yon poor brute," said Guérin. "Tuts then! A horse! I'll make him good to Hamon." "And, unless I'm mistaken, you promised him not to ride the Coupée," I said angrily, for I knew how George Hamon would feel about Black Boy. "Diable! I believe I did, but I forgot all about it in seeing you others crawling across.
"But in that way at least I'm the poorest of soldiers; I never picked a quarrel, and yet here's one that sets my gorge to my palate, but cannot be fought on." "Tuts, tuts! man," he cried, "it seems that, after all, you must leave the opening of this little play to John M'Iver. Come with me a bit yont the Cross here and take a lesson."
"This is shurely the end o' the world comin'," said Mistress Kenawee, near greetin'. "O dear me, I think something's genna come ower me." "Tuts 'oman, sit doon," says Dauvid, altho' he was in a fell state aboot her. I cud see that brawly. The sicht o' the puir wafilly budy akinda drave the fear awa frae me; an' I maskit a cup o' tea, an' crackit awa till her till we got her cowshined doon.
Lucas's eyes were again fixed in a strange stare. Then a quick change of expression broke over his face. "You're very kind, Mr. Walkingshaw!" he said warmly. "Tuts, tuts, not a bit. I want to warm up my study with a splash of color. That's the way you artists would put it. Eh?" "A splash of color yes." "You see, I'm getting the hang of your lingo already, Vernon.
My models hitherto have been the classical detectives " "Tuts!" she laughed, "they were only men!" "Yes," I agreed, "we are not much of a sex. And now, guess again please, it's a very simple conundrum this time for you. Who was the man behind the wall or the rocks?" She looked the least trifle hurt. "I am really trying to help," she said, "I know it!" I assured her.
"Tuts! fiddlesticks! But isn't it, now, really a very hard case?" "Indeed it is; but, then, what can you do?" "Do?" said Charley impatiently; "run away to be sure." "Oh, don't speak of that!" said Kate anxiously. "You know it will kill our beloved mother; and then it would grieve father very much."
"It'll be Miss Mary will have the making of him, and I ken the lady well enough with my humble duty to her to know she'll make him a gentleman at the very least." "Tuts," said the Paymaster, "Sister Mary's like the rest of you; she would make a milksop of the boy if I was foolish enough to take him home to her. He'll want smeddum and manly discipline; that's the stuff to make the soldier.
"Is it indeed?" asked he, turning on me a pitiful eye; "I'm wrong if you ever met but one that was quite so fine as you must have them Tuts, tuts, here I'm on the key of old man's history. I cheat myself at times of leisure into the notion that once I loved a foreign girl who died a spotless maiden.
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