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Updated: August 5, 2024
"I mind I filled my pipe by the big thorn where the wire fence stops, and the moon's on the road. If ye'll bide or gang on slowly, I'll rin back." "Never mind it. I'll give you another." "Na," said Pete. "If ye had been used with an auld tin and had a smairt pooch for the first time, ye wouldna' lea' it in the road. Besides, it was fu' o' a better tobacco than I often smoke."
There it was, steaming and smelling, a delicious confusion of rice and red pepper, chicken legs, ham, and tomatoes. Mike, on her opposite arm, was struggling to lave his socks in it. "Ah!" said Mrs. Riley, with a disappointed lift of the head, "ye're after eating breakfast already! And the plates all tleared off. Well, ye air smairt! I knowed Mr. Richlin's taste for jumbalie"
"An' I'm no to lowse sicht o' ye till ye hae put in yer appearance," he added; "sae gien ye dinna come peaceable, I maun gar ye." "Whaur's yer warrant?" asked Malcolm coolly. "Ye wad hae the impidence to deman' my warrant, ye young sorner!" cried Bykes indignantly. "Come yer wa's, my man, or I s' gar ye smairt for 't" "Haud a quaiet sough, an' gang hame for yer warrant," said Malcolm.
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