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Updated: June 16, 2025
Les petites femmes. Bold bad girl from the town of Mullingar. Tell her I was axing at her. Hauding Sara by the wame. On the road to Malahide. Me? If she who seduced me had left but the name. What do you want for ninepence? Machree, macruiskeen. Smutty Moll for a mattress jig. And a pull all together. Ex! Waiting, guvnor? Most deciduously. Bet your boots on.
"Impossible to deny a kind of decency to this Catriona, and sense forbye! As for James More, the man's as boss as a drum; he's just a wame and a wheen words; though I'll can never deny that he fought reasonably well at Gladsmuir, and it's true what he says here about the five wounds. But the loss of him is that the man's boss."
"Oh, it's juist a mainner o' speakin', sir; I was takin' a personal example. Weel, ye gang hame to the wife aboot the gloamin', an' ye open the door, an' ye says, says you, pleesant like, bein' warm aboot the wame, Guid e'en to ye, guidwife, my dawtie, an' hoos a' thing been gaim wi' ye the day? D'ye think she needs to luik roon' to ken a' aboot the Black Bull?
He looked forward to the day when British soldiers would leap from their trenches and extend the hand of friendship to their German comrades. 'No me! said a solemn voice. 'I'm not seekin' a bullet in my wame, at which there was laughter and cat-calls. Tombs followed and made a worse hash of it.
"It's highly possible," said he, sighing. "But it seems strange ye shouldnae carry it. However, as I was saying, this Alan Breck is a bold, desperate customer, and well kent to be James's right hand. His life is forfeit already; he would boggle at naething; and maybe, if a tenant-body was to hang back he would get a dirk in his wame." "You make a poor story of it all, Mr.
"Indeed!" said I, more interested than I cared to own to myself, or to show to the fellow "why, Andrew, you know all the secrets of this family." "If I ken them, I can keep them," said Andrew; "they winna work in my wame like harm in a barrel, I'se warrant ye. Miss Die is but it's neither beef nor brose o' mine." And he began to dig with a great semblance of assiduity.
"Na, na; naethin' oot o' the ordinar'," the little man replied, giggling. "Only David set on me, and me sleepin'. And," with a shrug, "here I am noo." He sat down, wagging his bandaged head and grinning. "Ye see he's sae playfu', is Davie. He wangs ye o'er the head wi' a chair, kicks ye in the jaw, stamps on yer wame, and all as merry as May."
"If that's a'" said the bird, "ye ken little. Have ye never heard o' the little man, the fourth back from yoursel', who killed the Miller o' Bewcastle at the Lammas Fair? That was in my ain time, and from my mother I have heard o' the Covenanter who got a bullet in his wame hunkering behind the divot-dyke and praying to his Maker.
Ye lie on your wame a bittie in the bield of this wood, and ye tell me that ye've cuist off these Frasers and Macgregors. Why! Because I couldna see them, says you. Ye blockhead, that's their livelihood." "Take the worst of it," said I, "and what are we to do?" "I am thinking of that same," said he. "We might twine. It wouldna be greatly to my taste; and forbye that, I see reasons against it.
"Indeed!" said I, more interested than I cared to own to myself, or to show to the fellow "why, Andrew, you know all the secrets of this family." "If I ken them, I can keep them," said Andrew; "they winna work in my wame like harm in a barrel, I'se warrant ye. Miss Die is but it's neither beef nor brose o' mine." And he began to dig with a great semblance of assiduity.
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