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Updated: June 3, 2025
His fees were pretty much what the folk chose to give him, and he collected them once a year at Kildrummie fair. "Well, doctor, what am a' awin' ye for the wife and bairn? Ye 'ill need three notes for that nicht ye stayed in the hoose an' a' the veesits." "Havers," MacLure would answer, "prices are low, a'm hearing; gie's thirty shillings."
"But," Alec went on, "come wi' me, and we'll sune get ye warm again. Gie's yer han'." Annie gave Alec her hand; and he lifted her out of her heap of spales, and led her away. She never thought of asking where he was leading her.
Mysie's jist cam' back, an' she has fented. Gie's a bit haun' wi' her to get her into bed. Puir thing. She's fair done up," and Matthew tried to raise up the prostrate figure of his bairn; but sank back too weak, and too overcome to do anything. "Dinna you trouble yourself, Matthew," said Mrs. Sinclair, gathering the prostrate girl in her arms and raising her up on her knee like a child.
Ralph wished to breakfast at one of the inns in New Galloway, but this Jock Gordon would not allow. He did not like that kind o' folk, he said. "Gie's tippens, an' that'll serve brawly," said Jock. Ralph drew out Winsome's purse; he looked at it reverently and put it back again. It seemed too early, and too material a use of her love-token. "Nae sillar in't?" queried Jock. "How's that?
There was a bit lauch at this, an' Watty added, "I mean Sandy, of coorse no' the deevil 'at Bandy was speakin' aboot." "I was genna say," said Bandy, "when I was interrupit by the honourable gentleman " "O, gie's a rest," said Watty; an' Bandy had to begin again.
He burns them a wee bit in the fire, an' then st'eeps them in whusky. An' they're awful sair." "Oh, but I ken what to do, Rab, if ye want to diddle him," put in another boy. "Just get a horse's hair a lang yin oot o' its tail and put it across yer haun', an' it'll cut his tawse in twa, whenever he gie's ye a pammy." "That's what I'm gaun to do, Jamie," replied another.
"The front door's drifted up; gang roond tae the back, an' ye 'ill get intae the kitchen; a'll be ready in a meenut. "Gie's a hand wi' the lantern when a'm saidling Jess, an' ye needna come on till daylicht; a' ken the road." Then he was away in his sleep on some errand of mercy, and struggling through the storm.
"Gie's a sang, Geordie," cried one of the company across the room to an old shaggy-faced individual, who sat and laughed and drank with happy demeanor, rubbing his bristly chin, which resembled the back of a hedgehog, with dirty gnarled fingers which seemed made for lifting glasses, having a natural crook in them, into which the glass as naturally fitted. "You hinna sung anything yet.
"You've got the wrong man. I'm no the one you're after." "Are ye no?" he asked me, laughing still. "Are ye no Harry Lauder? Ye look like him, ye talk like him! An' fancy meetin' ye here! Last time I saw ye was in New Cumnock gie's a shak o' yer haund!" I shook hands wi' him gladly enough, in my relief, even though he nearly shook the hand off of me. I told him where I was playing the nicht.
Gie's yin o' your ain makin'." "Lodsake, I canna sing," said Geordie, with the air of a man who wanted to be told he could sing. "Ach, you can sing fine," was the chorused reply from nearly everyone in the company. "Come on, Geordie, you ken you can sing fine. Man, there's no' a better singer in the place, auld and a' as ye are."
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