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Afore Sandy got up the stair he manished to mairter the feck o' his Sabbath claes wi' the whitenin'; an' I was akinda feard Mistress Mikaver micht mistak' him for the scone-baker's ghost. But we got him made gey snod, an' syne we gaed inby to the ben-hoose fireside, an' had a crack wi' young Aleck. That's the son's name.
I've lived until my head be whitenin', and I've noted that though He moves slowly, He fetches most things round about the time we need 'em; and the things that be late in comin', I conceit we shall git somewhere furder on. Ye didn't kill the big buck this mornin', but the meat ye needed hangs at yer door, nevertheless."
Lord, who'd a thought that the blood in the veins of a man whose head is whitenin' could be sot leapin' as mine is doin' at this minit by the scrapin' of a fiddle!" The Lad was a picture to see. His bow flew like lightning. His long fingers drummed and slid along the strings of the violin with bewildering swiftness. The little instrument jetted and effervesced its melody.
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