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Updated: June 3, 2025
"Come on, Drumsheugh," said Jamie Soutar, "gie's the end o't; it wes a michty mornin'." "'We're twa auld fules, says MacLure tae me, and he gaithers up his claithes. 'It wud set us better tae be tellin' Bell. "She wes sleepin' on the top o' her bed wrapped in a plaid, fair worn oot wi' three weeks' nursin' o' Saunders, but at the first touch she was oot upon the floor.
He has done great wark doon in the west country, an' he is weel fitted and able to be the spokesman for the miners o' Scotlan'. I'm no gaun' to say ony mair, but I can say that it gie's me great pleasure to ask Mr. Smillie to address ye." A round of applause greeted Smillie as he rose to address them.
"There's a bonnie lassie that has bricht een, and there's a wee man in a braw coat, and a big man in a pouthered wig, and there's the shadow of the wuddy, joe, that lies braid across your path. Gie's your loof, hinny, and let Auld Merren spae it to ye bonny."
The bundles of clothes, separately arranged the night before, had got mixed somewhat in Robert's eagerness to dress, with the result that when his brother John rose, with eyes half shut, and reached for his stockings, he found those of Robert instead lying upon his bundle. "Gie's my socks," he ordered grumpily, flinging Robert's socks into the far corner of the kitchen.
"There's a bonny lassie that has bricht een, and there's a wee man in a braw coat, and a big man in a pouthered wig, and there's the shadow of the wuddy, joe, that lies braid across your path. Gie's your loof, hinny, and let Auld Merren spae it to ye bonny."
Bachelor Billy listened with intense interest, and when he had heard the boy's story to the end he dashed the tears from his eyes and said: "Gie's your han' Ralph; gie's your twa han's! Ye're a braw lad. Son or no son o' Robert Burnham, ye're fit to stan' ony day in his shoes!"
I didna ken hoo deep the loch micht grow to be suddenly; sometimes there are deep holes in such places, that ye walk into when ye're the least expecting to find one. I was glad enough when I got back to the boat wi' the oar. I started to climb in. "Gie's the oar first," said Mac, cynically. "Ye micht fall in again, Harry, and I'll just be makin' siccar that ane of us twa gets hame the nicht!"
But she clung to her brother's neighbourhood, she knew not why. "Will ye no gie's a kiss, Dand?" she said. "I aye likit ye fine." He kissed her and considered her a moment; he found something strange in her. But he was a libertine through and through, nourished equal contempt and suspicion of all womankind, and paid his way among them habitually with idle compliments. "Gae wa' wi' ye!" said he.
"Come on, Drumsheugh," said Jamie Soutar, "gie's the end o't; it wes a michty mornin'." "'We're twa auld fules, says MacLure tae me, and he gaithers up his claithes. 'It wud set us better tae be tellin' Bell. "She wes sleepin' on the top o' her bed wrapped in a plaid, fair worn oot wi' three weeks' nursin' o' Saunders, but at the first touch she was oot upon the floor.
"It's kind o' cauld the day," the landlady said in an affable way, as he stepped into the bar. "Warm enough where I have been," he replied bluntly. "Gie's something to drink in whusky!" "So it wad seem," she said in reply, noting his beaded forehead, as he wiped it with a colored handkerchief.
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