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Updated: June 29, 2025
I think the men war nigh-han' dazed wi' the terrible cauld and the weariness o' the traivel, and I had sleepit ower lang, and they had forgotten a' aboot me. And what think ye was the first thocht i' my heid, whan I cam' to mysel', i' the terrible white desolation o' cauld and ice and snaw? I wantit to run straucht to you, and lay my heid upo' yer shouther.
He stood contemplating it for a moment, not without some hardly perceptible signs of admiration, and then said: "Gin ye had her out upon a muckle water, do ye think ye wad jump oot ower the side o' her, gin the Saviour tauld ye, Alec Forbes?" "Ay wad I, gin I war richt sure he wantit me." "Ye wad stan' an' parley wi' him, nae doot?" "Ow ay, laddie! That's a' richt. Weel, I houp ye wad.
There's no a hair on ayther o' the Weirs that hasna mair spunk and dirdum to it than what he has in his hale dwaibly body! Settin' up his snash to me! Let him gang to the black toon where he's mebbe wantit birling on a curricle wi' pimatum on his heid making a mess o' himsel' wi' nesty hizzies a fair disgrace!"
I mean whan I'm no wantit ither gaits, an' there 's naebody here." "To be sure," answered the marquis; " only the scholar must n't come with the skipper's hands." "I s' tak guid care o' that, my lord. I wad as sune think o' han'lin' a book wi' wark-like han's as I wad o' branderin' a mackeral ohn cleaned it oot." "And when we have visitors, you 'll be careful not to get in their way."
"No, mother; there's no fear o' that, as lang's the laird or Miss Lexy's to the fore. They tret me I winna say like ane o' themsel's, but as if they would hae likit me for ane o' themsel's, gien it had pleased the Lord to sen' me their way instead o' yours. They're that guid to me ye canna think!" "Then what's broucht ye the day?" "I beggit for a play-day. I wantit to see An'rew." "Eh, lass!
The langest I can min', it's been my ae ambition to help my father and mother to du what they wantit. I never desirit merriage, my leddy, and gien I did, it wudna be wi' sic as Francie Gordon, weel as I lo'e him, for we war bairnies, and laddie and lassie thegither: I wudna hae a man it was for me to fin' faut wi'! 'Deed, mem, what fowk ca's love, hes neither airt nor pairt i' this metter!
"A thoosan' poun'! No ae baubee! Cosmo, I wad hae thoucht ye had mair sense! Ye can gie me the twa poun' ten I gae to Grizzie to help haud the life in 's a'. A body maun hae something i' their pooch gien they can, an' gien they canna, they maun du wi' naething. It's won'erfu' hoo little 's railly wantit!" Cosmo felt miserable. "Ye winna surely gang ohn seein' Maister Simon!"
Aggie hesitated, but, open as the day, she did not hesitate long. She turned her face from him, and answered, "I wantit to gie ye a surprise, Maister Cosmo. Divna ye min' tellin' me ance 'at ye saw no rizzon hoo a lassie sudna un'erstan' jist as weel's a laddie.
As I tell't ye, she was a wee body, wi' muckle black een, that lay quaiet in her face and never cam oot till they war wantit, an' a body gimp and sma', but roon' and weel proportioned throughoot. Her hand and her fit war jist past expression bonny. And she had a' her features conformin' a' sma' but nane o' them ower sma' in relation to ane anither.
One beautiful Sunday morning while the party assembled in Kinlossie House was at breakfast, a message was brought to the laird that he "wass wantit to speak wi' the poy Tonal'." "Well, Donald, my lad, what want ye with me this fine morning?" asked the laird, on going out to the hall. "I wass telt to tell ye the'll be no kirk the day, for the minister's got to preach at Drumquaich."
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