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People seem to be loosening up for some reason. You ought to get your share with the Summit, Wes. Snappy little machine, that." "You rising business men," Carr drawled, "want to learn to leave your business at the office when you come to my house. Now, we were just discussing the war. What sort of a prophet are you, Tommy? How long will it last?
She only knew that into her happiness there had come again the darkening of a fear, fear that was to be her devil, no less terrible because his presence was for the most part veiled. But again she steeled her courage. "I won't let him spoil everything; I won't let him make me afraid of him," she vowed, seeing Wes in his silent mood that night. "I won't be afraid of him.
"'He 'ill be in his goon and bands, says I, 'if that's what ye mean, for the head o' him is fu' o' maggots, and nae man can tell what he wull be at next. "'Mister Soutar said that he would wear his kilt, and that it would be an interesting spectacle. Ye 'ill better come awa hame, and sall, if a' hed kent what wes tae happen, a' wud hae taken him aff below ma oxter.
When Bell Baxter saw Saunders alive, and the coffin of the doctor that saved him on her man's shoulder, she bowed her head on the dyke, and the bairns in the village made such a wail for him they loved that the men nearly disgraced themselves. "A'm gled we're through that, at ony rate," said Hillocks; "he wes awfu' taen up wi' the bairns, conseederin' he hed nane o' his ain."
The old coloured woman had received her with a serious regard but friendly. "Mist' Wes, he stahtle me mighty frequen', but he nevah stahtle me with no marryin' befo'," she said. "Honey, it'll be mighty nice to have a pret' young gal in de house. I'll serve you de bes' I kin, faithful an' stiddy, like I always serve him.
The reader may be gratified with Hector Boece's narrative of the original foundation of the famous abbey of Holyrood, or the Holy Cross, as given in Bellenden's translation: "Eftir death of Alexander the first, his brothir David come out of Ingland, and wes crownit at Scone, the yeir of God MCXXIV yeiris, and did gret justice, eftir his coronation, in all partis of his realme.
Ye wudna gie him up, and ye did what nae ither cud for him, an' a've ma man the day, and the bairns hae their father. "An' afore MacLure kent what she was daein', Bell lifted his hand to her lips an' kissed it." "Did she, though?" cried Jamie. "Wha wud hae thocht there wes as muckle spunk in Bell?"
"It was michty tae see him come intae the yaird that day, neeburs; the verra look o' him wes victory." Jamie's cynicism slipped off in the enthusiasm of this reminiscence, and he expressed the feeling of Drumtochty. No one sent for MacLure save in great straits, and the sight of him put courage in sinking hearts.
"His bit sermon wes six poems five a' hed heard afore four anecdotes three aboot himsel' and ain aboot a lord twa burnies, ae floo'r gairden, and a snowstorm, wi' the text thirteen times and 'beloved' twal; that was a'; a takin' window, and Netherton's lassies cudna sleep thinkin' o' him.
She wants tae see ye, and tae hear ye say that ye 'ill never forget her nicht nor day till ye meet in the land where there's nae pairtin'. Oh, a' ken what a'm sayin', for it's five year noo sin George gied awa, an' he's mair wi' me noo than when he wes in Edinboro' and I wes in Drumtochty."
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