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Updated: May 11, 2025
"Only aince," he replied. "That was one day when he was ridin' on a road near here. I met a friend who told me to hurry up, for Rabbie Burns was just ahead. I whippit up my horse, and came up to a roughly dressed man, ridin' slowly along, with his blue bonnet pulled down over his forehead, and his eyes turned toward the groond." "Didn't you speak to him?" I said.
I thinks, 'tis an evil sperrit, sae I set awa like a hare game leg an' aal tearin' towards the park wall like a whippit, followed by the evil sperrit that made no sound wiv his pads, but was growlin' terrible aal the time. 'Then it wasn't a real dog? I interrupted here. 'Wasn't a real durg? replied Geordie indignantly, his eyebrows puckering and his jowl coming forward aggressively.
"Ay, lass; and to read his holy books wi'. A neighbour o' mine saw his hand come out, and the birds sat thereon and pecked crumbs. She went for to kiss it, but the holy man whippit it away in a trice. They can't abide a woman to touch 'en, or even look at 'em, saints can't." "What like was his hand, wife? Did you ask her?" "What is my tongue for, else?
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