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Updated: June 9, 2025
Ey am Jem Device, an this is my mother, Elizabeth. Boh a warse offender than either on us stonds afore yo. This woman is Nance Redferne, grandowter of the owd hag, Mother Chattox. Ey charge her wi' makin' wax images, an' stickin' pins in 'em, wi' intent to kill folk.
"Teil care an they did," said Donald, "an that were the warst o't, for we have a wheen canny trewsmen here that wadna let us want if there was a horned beast atween this and Perth. But this is a warse job it's nae less than a wager." "A wager!" repeated Lord Menteith, with some surprise.
"About sixty or seventy horse and foot," said the old dame; "but, ewhow! they are puirly armed, and warse fended wi' victual." "God will help his own," said the horseman. "Which way shall I take to join them?"
An' yet I'm sair afraid for they puir feckless French. I ha' na faith, ye ken, in the Celtic blude, an' its spirit o' lees. The Saxon spirit o' covetize is a grewsome house-fiend, and sae's our Norse speerit o' shifts an' dodges; but the spirit o' lees is warse. Puir lustful Reubens that they are! unstable as water, they shall not excel.
"Latin and Greek! Poor ghostlike languages that hae put off flesh and blood lang syne. Poetry! Warse than nonsense! David and Solomon hae gien us such sacred poetry as is good and necessary; and for sinfu' love verses and such vanities, if Scotland must hae them, Robert Burns is mair than enough. As to mathematics, there's naething against them.
"But we couldna hae done better, Jenny." "Ye couldna hae done warse, deacon. Once the lad asked ye for money, and ye wouldna trust him wi' it; and now ye are in sic a hurry to send him after a wife that he maun neither eat nor sleep. Ye ken which is the maist dangerous. And you, wi' a' your years, to play into auld Strang's hand sae glibly! Deacon, ye hae made a nice mess o' it.
"Maybe we'll be langer than a month," returned Quentin, "ann the wulderness hereaway is warse than the wulderness that Moses led his folk through. They had manna there. Mony o' us hae naething here."
"About sixty or seventy horse and foot," said the old dame; "but, ewhow! they are puirly armed, and warse fended wi' victual." "God will help his own," said the horseman. "Which way shall I take to join them?"
An' tell 'em this, too" and, as he rose, his whole face and figure assumed a dignity, an awfulness, which I had never seen before in him "tell them that ha' driven out and , an' every one that daur speak a word o' common sense, or common humanity them that stone the prophets, an' quench the Spirit o' God, and love a lie, an' them that mak the same them that think to bring about the reign o' love an' britherhood wi' pikes an' vitriol bottles, murther an' blasphemy tell 'em that ane o' fourscore years and mair ane that has grawn grey in the people's cause that sat at the feet o' Cartwright, an' knelt by the death-bed o' Rabbie Burns ane that cheerit Burdett as he went to the Touer, an' spent his wee earnings for Hunt an' Cobbett ane that beheld the shaking o' the nations in the Ninety-three, and heard the birth-shriek o' a newborn world ane that while he was yet a callant saw Liberty afar off, an' seeing her was glad, as for a bonny bride, an' followed her through the wilderness for threescore weary waeful years sends them the last message that e'er he'll send on airth: tell 'em that they're the slaves o' warse than priests and kings the slaves o' their ain lusts an' passions the slaves o' every loud-tongued knave an' mountebank that'll pamper them in their self-conceit; and that the gude God'll smite 'em down, and bring 'em to nought, and scatter 'em abroad, till they repent, an' get clean hearts and a richt speerit within them, and learn His lesson that he's been trying to teach 'em this threescore years that the cause o' the people is the cause o' Him that made the people; an' wae to them that tak' the deevil's tools to do his wark wi'! Gude guide us!
There is one principle that controls the diagnosis of all cases of apoplexy among ye'r true country gentlemen and that is, that the system is reduced and enfeebled, by habitual devotion to the decanter. In such attacks ye canna' do warse, than to let blood. But, I'll no be hard upon you, Sir Gervaise; and so we'll drop the subject though, truth to say, I do not admire your poaching on my manor.
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