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Updated: May 14, 2025
It's true the auld men are awa', but here's the auld wife left, an' she'll be a mither to ye, as weel's she kens hoo, an' a lass o' your sense is easy to mither. I' the name o' God I say't, the warl' micht as weel objec' to twa angels bidin' i' h'aven thegither as you an' the yoong laird in ae hoose! Say 'at they like, ye're but a servan' lass, an' here am I ower ye!
When Tarleton would have made him choose between the taking of the king's oath and captivity in the hulks at Charleston, a burly Hessian captain at the table spoke the word in season. "Verdammt! mine Colonel; I vill know dis Mr. Yennifer. He is a prave yoong schalavags, and he is not gone out mit der rebels. Give him to me for mine plunders." The colonel laughed and showed his teeth.
"Weel, ae mornin', verra ear', she gaed oot intill her gairden, an luikit ower the hedge; an' what sud she see but this same yoong nobleman tak the bairn frae a puir traivellin' body, help her ower a dyke, and gie her her bairn again! He was at her ain side in anither meenute, but he was jist that meenute ahint his tryst, an' she was in a cauld rage at him.
"It canna be an angel," said Robert at length, "for it's singin' 'My Nannie's Awa'." "An' what for no an angel?" returned Janet. "Isna that jist what ye micht be singin' yersel', efter what ye was sayin' last nicht? I'm thinkin' there maun be a heap o' yoong angels up there, new deid, singin', 'My Nannie's Awa'." "Hoot, Janet! ye ken there's naither merryin' nor giein' in merriage there."
"It's the yoong laird!" said Aggie, and stopped. "What's come till 'im?" asked the laird, in the sharpened tone of anxiety. "It's no muckle, he says himsel'. But his heid's some sair yet." "What maks his heid sair? He was weel eneuch whan he gaed this mornin'." "The maister knockit 'im doon." The laird started as if one had struck him in the face.
"I'm only the better by a bare word or so, so far, from speech o' the Gra-anny with her yoong la-adyship o' the Towers, but now, on the roo-ad. The Gra-anny she was main silent, coom'n' along." "There's nowt to wonder at in that, Master Costrell. For there's th' stary, as I tell it ye.
At first it had enraged him, but after a time he had grown callous to it, and accepted it as it was meant. But this was something different. It was insolence brutal, overbearing insolence, with physical menace behind it. "What name?" he asked coldly. "Barton. Happen I may give thee cause to mind that name, yoong man.
Mattie went in with the doctor, while Allen looked after both horses. They found Chapman attending Wallace who lay in a dazed quiet conscious, but not definitely aware of material things. The doctor looked his patient over carefully. Then he asked, "Who is the yoong mon?" "He's been teaching here, or rather preaching." "When did this coom on?" "Last night.
"French, and German, and Spanish, and Italian, I suppose, sir." "These make but four. What can be the fifth, my dear?" "De yoong laty forgets de Englisch. De Englisch is das funf." "Oh! yes, the English!" exclaimed the pretty creature, pressing her lips together to prevent laughing in my face. "True I had forgotten the English, not being accustomed to think of it as a mere European tongue.
"Well, Mr Botanist, the camp cannot be far off now, an' it seems to me that we should have overtaken men travelling on foot by this time." "Ye vill surely come on de tracks dis naight or de morrow," replied the botanist, riding forward, after Bevan had secured the carcass of the deer to his saddle-bow, "bot ye must have patience, yoong blood be always too hote. All in goot time."
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