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Updated: June 27, 2025
I wad fain hae gotten a fancy oot o' my heid that's been there this mony a lang day; but please yersel', mem, gien ye winna be neebourly." "Ca cannie! ca cannie! "Dinna anger me ower sair, for I am but mortal.
Hoo cud ye speir sic a queston, laddie? 'He maun be sair changed, grannie. He maun be turnin' auld by this time. 'Auld! Sic like 's yersel, laddie. Hoots, hoots! ye're richt. I am forgettin'. But nanetheless wad I ken him. 'I wis I kent what he was like. I saw him ance hardly twise, but a' that I min' upo' wad stan' me in ill stead amo' the streets o' Lonnon. 'I doobt that, returned Mrs.
Weel, if ye mean from Scotland, ye have the last yersel' in the letters of your honorable mither. What I am hearing from some Scot that cam oot o' the west country is that if the council does na maister the Covenanters, the dear carles will maister them, and then Scotland will be a gey ill place to live in.
I had taken but forty steps or so when a solicitous voice called out, "Lie wi' yir back to the wife an' sip the sweetie an' breathe in to yersel'." "NOO, The IN-TURN" The Apostles' Creed should be revised. One great article of faith it lacks. "I believe in the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting" thus peal its bells of gold.
"Na, na, Jean," interposed the farmer, "they wad tak care o' themsel's to the last, an' aye haud to the dryest, jist as ye wad yersel'." "Allooin'," said the stranger, replying to Jean, yet speaking rather as if to herself, while she thought about something else, "I wad raither droon soomin' nor tied by the heid. But what's the guid o' doctrine whaur there's onything to be dune?
'It's no aften, Kirsty, ye tell me what I ken as weel 's yersel! returned Francis. 'Weel, Francie, ye maun tell me something the night! Gien it wudna mismuve ye, I wad fain ken hoo ye wan throu that day we pairtit here. Without a moment's hesitation, Francis began the tale giving her to know, however, that in what took place there was much he did not understand so as to tell it again.
'Weel, I accep' yer apology. Can ye len' us thruppence? I want to purchase some War Loan. . . . By Jings, ye're no a bad sort, Macgreegor. . . . Hoo dae ye think I behaved masel'? 'No that bad. 'Weel, I want ye to tell her I ha'end enjoyed masel' sae much since ma Uncle Peter's funeral, ten year back. 'Tell her yersel'. Willie pocketed a few of the superior cigarettes, and rose.
"I wad raither not," he replied, "but we maun see hoo he cairries himsel'." "Du naething till 'im for my sake, Ma'colm. Ye can hae naething again' him yersel'." It was too dark for Malcolm to see the keen look of wistful regret with which Lizzy tried to pierce the gloom and read his face: for a moment the poor girl thought he meant he had loved her himself.
"Whaur naething's meant, naething's dune. I'm nae angert. And that ye'll sune see. Sit ye doon there, and tak yer plaid aboot ye, or ye'll be cauld." "Ye hae nae plaid yersel. Ye're mair like to be cauld nor I am." "I weir my plaid o' my inside. Ye haena had ony toddy. Deil's broo! It may weel haud a body warm. It comes frae a het quarter."
"'Deed, my leddy," said Lizzy, "Ma'colm's been ower guid to me, no to gar me du onything he wad hae o' me. I can haud my tongue whan I like, my leddy. An' dinna doobt my thouchts, my leddy, for I ken Ma'colm as weel's ye du yersel', my leddy." While she was speaking Clementina rose, and they went straight to the door in the bank.
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