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Updated: May 4, 2025
"It maitters little compairateevely what a man lives upo'," said Cupples sententiously, "sae it be first-rate o' 'ts ain kin'. And this is first-rate." "Tak' a drappy mair, sir." "Na, nae mair, I thank ye." "They'll be left, gin ye dinna." "Weel, sen' them ower to Mr Bruce," said Cupples, with a sly wink. "I s' warran' he'll coup them ower afore they sud be wastit. He canna bide waste."
'Awa' in Englan' maistly aboot Lonnon, I'm thinkin'. That's the place for a' by-ordinar fowk, they tell me. 'Hoo lang is 't sin he deid? 'I dinna ken. A hunner year or twa, I s' warran'. It's a lang time. But I'm thinkin' fowk than was jist something like what they are noo.
Crathie, blurting out her Scotch fast enough now, "I s' warran' ye can lee weel eneuch whan ye hae occasion. Tak yer siller an' du as I tell ye." "Wad ye hae me damned, mem?" Mrs. Crathie gave a cry and held up her hands.
"I daur say no," said Malcolm quietly, and again addressed himself to go. "Do you like novels?" asked the girl. "I never saw a novelle. There's no ane amo' a' Mr Graham's buiks, an' I s' warran' there's full twa hunner o' them. I dinna believe there's a single novelle in a' Portlossie." "Don't be too sure: there are a good many in our library."
'I s' warran' he cares as little aboot hiz as we care aboot him. There's nae treason noo a-days. I carena wha hears what I say. 'For my pairt, said Mr. Peddie, 'I canna help wonnerin' gin it cud be oor auld frien' Mr. Faukener. 'Speyk o' the de'il said Mr. Lammie. 'Hoot! na, returned Peddie, interrupting. 'He wasna a'thegither the de'il. 'Haud the tongue o' ye, retorted Lammie.
His wife's left wi'oot a plack, an' I s' warran' the gude fowk o' Rothieden winna mak sae muckle o' her noo 'at her man's awa'; for she never was sic a randy as he was, an' the triumph o' grace in her 's but sma', therefore. Sae I maun mak the best 'at I can o' the fiddle for her.
Kaiber took a star for his guide and led us straight across the country; but our route lay through a warran ground, full of holes, and in the darkness of the night we every now and then had a tremendous tumble, so that at the end of about four miles I thought that it would be imprudent to proceed farther, as we every moment were in danger of breaking a limb or seriously injuring ourselves.
Although not a large race, they were in very good condition; part of their food, is the native yam, called warran in Western Australia. The birds on the island are common to other parts; and the wallaby, of which Mr. Bynoe shot three, are light coloured.
"The dog canna speyk himsel'," returned Janet, "an' the won'er is he can un'erstan': wha kens but he may come full nigher ane 'at's speechless like himsel'! Ye gie the cratur the chance, an' I s' warran' he'll mak himsel' plain to the dog. Ye jist try 'im. Tell ye him to tell the dog sae and sae, an' see what 'll come o' 't." Robert made the experiment, and it proved satisfactory.
"She had come throu' eneuch to hae some claim to be considert." "She maun hae been a richt guid ane," said Janet, "gien ilk ane o' the saiven wad be wantin' her again. But I s' warran' she kenned weel eneuch whilk o' them was her ain. I thoucht as muckle! the wee sangie's drappit itsel' a'thegither, jist as gien the laverock had fa'ntit intil 'ts nest. I doobt we'll hear nae mair o' 't."
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