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Updated: June 24, 2025
There was thanksgiving in the parish for three days after he died!" said the old lady by way of an anticlimax. Winsome looked very much as if she wished to say something, which brought down her grandmother's wrath upon her. "Noo, lassie, is't you or me that's haein' a veesit frae this young man? Ye telled me juist the noo that he had come to see me.
So she sent Tillie to call a cab, and contented herself with bewailing the stubbornness of Peter, her nephew. "It was aye so, whan he was a lad playin' wi' Jean an' Katherine, whiles whan his feyther lat his mither bring Katherine and him back to Scotland on a veesit. Jean and Katherine maun gie in til him if they liket it or no.
He's sending in a cart by a groom, and I'm to tak' Bobby out and fetch him hame after a braw dinner on gowd plate. The bairns meant weel, but they could no' give Bobby a washing fit for a veesit with the nobeelity. I had to tak' him to a barber for a shampoo." Mr. Brown roared with laughter. "Man, ye hae mair fule notions i' yer heid.
We go to his folks dey leev up in Michigan. He try vork dere and I coom back on a veesit to Yon Yonson's wife. He vork for Misder Latham." "Yes, I know!" cried Janice, anxiously. "Now Willie bane coom back to his old yob at de pickle vorks. And how is you? You look fine." "Oh, Olga, we have been dreadfully worried. When when you went away from our house did you see a little box like a jewel box?
"Naebody needs tae know, Weelum, an' ye maunna speak that way, for whatever's come ower her, she's dear to Lachlan and tae God. "It's laid on me tae veesit Lachlan, for a'm thinking oor Father didna comfort us withoot expeckin' that we wud comfort other fouk."
Peter would speak of nothing but the new engine that was coming, and was to place the Kildrummie branch beyond ridicule for ever, and on this great event he continued without intermission till he parted with Flora on the edge of the pine woods that divided Drumtochty from Kildrummie. "Gude nicht tae ye, Miss Cammil, and thank ye again for yir veesit.
Ma faither talked muckle o' Uncle Hughie Blake, remimberin' him fra' a wee laddie when his ain faither took him tae Scotland, and tae Castle Emberon, on a veesit." Nan and Papa Sherwood laughed at her when she assumed the Scotch burr of her forebears. With precision she cut the flap of this smaller envelope. She felt no excitement now.
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