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"Mother, John's deid! John's deid! Don't ye see John's deid?" "Ay, he's deid," said Mrs. Gourlay, staring. "He winna be hanged now!" "Mother!" cried Janet, desperate before this apathy, "what shall we do? what shall we do? Shall I run and bring the neebours?" "The neebours!" said Mrs. Gourlay, rousing herself wildly "the neebours! What have we to do with the neebours?
Gray, and to close our eyes to the excellence of the poetry of this period, in order to see Burns on the downgrade, and to preach grand moral lessons from the text of a wasted life. But, after all, 'facts are chiels that winna ding, and we must take them into account, however they may baulk us of grand opportunities of plashing in watery sentiment. Speaking of the poet's biographers, Mr.
Gang ye awa' to yer bed, and min' yer vow to God and to me. And dinna forget yer prayers, Alec." Neither of them forgot his prayers. Alec slept soundly Mr Cupples not at all. "I think," he said, when Alec appeared in the morning, "I winna tak sic a hardship upo' me anither nicht. Jist open the cat's door and fling the bottle into somebody's yard. I houp it winna cut onybody's feet."
'They winna brak the bargain, cried Shargar, beginning almost to whimper, for a savoury smell of dinner was coming across the yard. 'Tell them it's stown siller, and they'll be in het watter aboot it gin they dinna gie ye 't back. 'I maun hae my denner first, remonstrated Shargar. But the spirit of his grandmother was strong in Robert, and in a matter of rectitude there must be no temporizing.
"Nae that ill, but some forfochten wi' norsin' Mr Alec. Eh! sir, that's a fine lad, gin he wad only haud steady." "I'm thinkin' he winna gang far wrang again. "'Deed is she, sir. I kent her father afore her day, and I hae kent her sin ever she had a day. She's ane o' the finest bairns ever was seen." "Is she ony relation to the mistress?" "Ow, na. Nae mair relation nor 'at a' gude fowk's sib."
'We're a' hauden doon the same gait, Steenie. Maybe it's some waur for you 'at wud sae fain gang up, nor for the lave o' 's 'at's mair willin to bide a wee; but it 'll be the same at the last whan we're a' up there thegither. I dinna like to be grippit by the queets! He winna lat me win at the thongs!
Falconer, the first greetings over, 'ane 's ta'en an' anither 's left! but what for 's mair nor I can faddom. There's that fine young man, Maister Ericson, at deith's door; an' here am I, an auld runklet wife, left to cry upo' deith, an' he winna hear me. 'Cry upo' God, grannie, an' no upo' deith, said Robert, catching at the word as his grandmother herself might have done.
I was in a sad state; but time, that cures a' ills, at length cured mine, too, although it didna remove my regret that a name so unhappily frequent as Willie Smith had ever been bestowed on me. Havin already described mysel as bein o' a susceptible nature, and bein at this time in the prime o' youth, it winna surprise the reader to learn that I soon after this fell in love a second time.
The soutar's humour, however, aided by his violin, was a strong antidote against these evil influences. 'I doobt I'm gaein' to dee, Robert, he said at length one evening as the lad sat by his bedside. 'Weel, that winna do ye nae ill, answered Robert, adding with just a touch of bitterness 'ye needna care aboot that. 'I do not care aboot the deein' o' 't.
And when eventually they went, the last words they heard were, 'They are gone, you see, mother, but I am here, I will never leave you, and 'Na, you winna leave me; fine I know that. For some time afterwards their voices could be heard from downstairs, but what they talked of is not known. And then came silence.
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