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Updated: June 19, 2025
'The queston's been speirt afore and answert. 'And what's the answer til't? ''At yer neebour's jist whaever lies neist ye i' need o' yer help. Gien ye read the tale o' the guid Sameritan wi' ony sort o' gumption, that's what ye'll read intil 't and noucht else. The man or wuman ye can help, ye hae to be neebour til. 'I want to help you. 'Ye canna help me. I'm in no need o' yer help.
Mair is not so much at home upon it, being a farmer's daughter from inland." Receiving Clementina's thankful assent, he turned to Lizzy and said, "Min' ye tell my lady what rizzon ye ken whaurfor my mistress at the Hoose sudna be merried upo' Lord Liftore him 'at was Lord Meikleham. Ye may speyk to my lady there as ye wad to mysel; an' better, haein' the hert o' a wuman."
Ye didn't expect aanything an' ye got jist what ye expected. Ah, wuman, God isn't a printed book t' be carried aroun' b' a man in fine clothes, nor a gold cross t' be danglin' at the watch chain ov a priest." "What is he, Anna, yer wiser nor me; tell a poor craither in throuble, do!" "If ye'll lie very quiet, 'Liza jist cross yer hands and listen if ye do, I'll thry!"
"Wuman," said Jean, "ken an' I care naething aboot ye, an' mair, I dinna like ye, nor the luik o' ye; and gien 't war a fine simmer nicht 'at a body cud lie thereoot, or gang the farther, I wad steek the door i' yer face; but that I daurna dee the day again' my neebour's soo; sae ye can come in an' sit doon' an', my min' spoken, ye s' get what'll haud the life i' ye, an' a puckle strae i' the barn.
"Can't much happen, wid that ould wuman in the garden there, an' the young wife upstairs, an' the fine young fella sittin' alone in his room achin' for the sound of her voice! Shure, they're together at this minnit, p'r'aps." The Young Doctor tapped Kernaghan again on the head with his whip. "You're a wild Irishman still," he said, "but I think none the worse of you for that.
"That's what I wad fain yer lordship kent: I dinna." "None of your riddles! Explain yourself; and make haste; I want to go to bed again." "'Deed, yer lordship maun jist pit on yer claes, an' come wi'." "Where to?" "To the warlock's chaumer, my lord whaur that ill wuman remains 'in durance vile, as Spenser wad say but no sae vile's hersel', I doobt."
Ye daurna say he didna du his best for her here, and wull he no du his best for her there as weel? 'Doobtless, Dauvid! But ye fricht me! It souns jist rank papistry naither mair nor less! What can he du? He canna dee again for ane 'at wudna turn til 'im i' this life! The thing's no to be thoucht! 'Hoo ken ye that, wuman? Ye hae jist thoucht it yersel!
And as soon as he's learnt them, he taks a buik and gangs up til his room, or oot aboot the hoose, or intil the cornyard or the barn, and never comes nigh me! I sometimes won'er gien he would ever miss me deid!" she ended, with a great sigh. "Hoot awa, wuman! dinna tak on like that," returned her husband. "The laddie's like the lave o' laddies!
'Hearken to me, said Falconer, with as much authority as he could assume. But she rolled herself over again in the corner, and lay groaning. 'Tell me whaur she is, said Falconer, 'and I'll tak her oot o' their grup, whaever they be. She sat up again, and stared at him for a few moments without speaking. 'I left her wi' a wuman waur nor mysel', she said at length. 'God forgie me.
Eh, grannie! think o' the face o' that man o' sorrows, that never said a hard word till a sinfu' wuman, or a despised publican: was he thinkin' aboot 's ain glory, think ye? An' we hae no richt to say we ken God save in the face o' Christ Jesus. Whatever 's no like Christ is no like God.
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