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He wad never hae made sic a sicht o' bonny things to lat them lie wi'oot onybody to gaither them! An' there's nae ill fowk the furth at this time o' nicht, ta mak an oogly din, or disturb him wi' the sicht o' them. He maun come oot i' the quaiet o' the nicht, or else what's 't a' for? That 'll be what the deep sleep fa's upo' men for, doobtless to haud them oot o' his gait! Eh!
"Weel," he said, "I am glaid o' that, Ma'colm I beg yer pardon, my lord, I sud say. Annie!" "Haud a quaiet sough, man. I wadna hae 't come oot at Scaurnose first. I'm come noo 'cause I want ye to stan' by me." "I wull that, my lord." "Weel, gang an' gether yer boat's crew, an' fess them doon to the cove, an' I'll tell them, an' maybe they'll stan' by me as weel."
"I was upo' the tap o' the Nose jist as the sun rase, luikin' aboot me, an' awa' upo' the Boar's Tail I saw twa angels sayin' their prayers. Nae doobt they war prayin' for the haill warl' i' the quaiet o' the mornin' afore the din begun. May be ane o' them was that auld priest wi' the lang name i' the buik o' Genesis, 'at hed naither father nor mither, puir man! him 'at gaed aboot blissin' fowk."
He's a quaiet cratur eneuch, only he disna ken whaur he comes frae he disna ken whaur onything comes frae an' he canna bide it. But he wadna hurt leevin' cratur, the laird." "What a dreadful face!" said the girl, shuddering. "It's no an ill faured face," said Malcolm, "only the storm's frichtit him by ord'nar, an' it's unco ghaistly the noo."
"Weel," he said, "I am glaid o' that, Ma'colm, I beg yer pardon, my lord, I sud say. Annie!" "Haud a quaiet sough, man. I wadna hae 't come oot at Scaurnose first. I'm come noo 'cause I want ye to stan' by me." "I wull that, my lord." "Weel, gang an' gether yer boat's crew, an' fess them doon to the cove, an' I'll tell them, an' maybe they'll stan' by me as weel."
Gien ye dee fechtin' like a man, ye'll flee up wi' a quaiet face an' wide open een; an' there's a great Ane 'at 'll say to ye, 'Weel dune, laddie! But gien ye gie in to the enemy, he'll turn ye intill a creepin' thing 'at eats dirt; an' there 'll no be a hole in a' the crystal wa' o' the New Jerusalem near eneuch to the grun' to lat ye creep throu'."
"Weel, I'm sure they wad be richt glaid to see yersel', missie, ony time 'at ye likit to gang an' see them." "Why shouldn't we go now, Nicie? It's not a dangerous place, is it?" "No, missie. Glashgar's as quaiet an' weel-behaved a hill as ony in a' the cweentry," answered Nicie, laughing.
John, he had never seen anything he thought so beautiful. The baby cried now and then. 'What ails the bairnie? he asked. 'Ow, it's jist cuttin' its teeth. Gin it greits muckle, I maun jist tak it oot to my mither. She'll sune quaiet it. Are ye haudin' better? 'Hoot, ay. I'm a' richt noo. Is yer mither shearin'? 'Na. She's gatherin'. The shearin' 's some sair wark for her e'en noo.
Thomson, a portly, comfortable-looking man, 'that's neither here nor there, though it micht hae been a duchess or twa; but for the kickin', my word! but Lord Sandy was mair likly to kick oot the prince. Do ye min' hoo he did whan the Markis taxed him wi' ? 'Haud a quaiet sough, interposed Mr. Cruickshank, the solicitor; 'there's a drap i' the hoose.
And, puir man! it was waur for him nor for me and Milton; for it was a' his ain wyte; and it was no to be expecket he cud be sae quaiet as anither. But he had no richt to queston the ways o' the Maker. But it's bonnie, rael bonnie." "Noo, I'll jist read to ye what Milton says aboot his ain blin'ness. But it's some ill to unnerstan'." "Maybe I'll unnerstan' 't better nor you, bairn. Read awa'."
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