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Updated: June 23, 2025
'The Lord be praised! said Mrs. Falconer. 'I had guid houps o' 'im in 's latter days. And fowk says he's made a rich man o' ye, Robert? 'He's left me ilka thing, excep' something till 's servan's wha hae weel deserved it. 'Eh, Robert! but it's a terrible snare. Siller 's an awfu' thing. My puir Anerew never begud to gang the ill gait, till he began to hae ower muckle siller.
"Yes, we have a good many criminals, but the majority of them, the majority of those in jails, are foreigners; they come from Ireland, England, and the Provinces." But the old man only shook his head more solemnly, and persisted, "It's an awfu' wicked country."
And a freend o' mine hed a husband oot aboot Canada somewhere, and she got word o' his death, and she claimed the insurance, and got verra braw blacks, and here wha should turn up but his lordship, as leevin' as you or me! Eh, puir thing, she wis awfu' annoyed.... You be carefu', Miss Jean, and see the colour o' yer money afore ye begin giein' awa' hauf-croons instead o' pennies."
"Starful?" said Mr. Delaney. "Yes; and when it is a starful night Orion can't sleep well, 'cos he is a star hisself; isn't he, father?" "Good gracious, child, no! He is a little boy!" "No, no, father! You are awfu' mistook. Mother called him a star. I'll show you him up in the sky if it really comes to be a starful night. May I, father?"
"We has an awfu' lot to do this afternoon, Orion, 'cos Aunt Jane has got to be shotted, and I's thinking of having Miss Wamsay shotted too." "But do you mean," said Orion, "that you'll really shoot 'em both?" "Yes," replied Diana. "It has to be done; it's ter'ble, but it must be done. What would be the good if they wasn't shotted dead?
The first was an awfu' thing it had nae meaning at a' that I could see. But his letter was a delight. "Dear Harry," he wrote. "I've been sorry for a long time that so clever a man as you had such bad songs to sing. And so, though I'm busy most of the time, I've written one for you. I like you, so I'll only charge you a guinea for every time you sing it, and let you set your own music to it, too!"
In a moment she raised her cheery little voice. "I's awfu' sossy; I's all wight now," she said. "Where's Pole Star?" "Nay, little gal," said Uncle Ben, knowing well the temper of the house, "you must do no more to-night. The company, I know, will excuse you." Seating the child on his shoulder, and patting her hand affectionately, as if he were her father, he brought little Diana to the front.
His work was interluded with comments on men and affairs the very nature of his task brought into play that sense of humor and that stimulation of fancy to which he responded with such readiness. "A' doot whither A'll gi'e ye a moostache," said Tam, surveying his handiwork, "it's no necessairy to a fleein'-mon, but it's awfu' temptin' to an airtist." He scratched his head thoughtfully.
"Who said I wasna Bailie MacConachie?" and the figure was plainly roused. "Him in the Dundee train? Laddies, there's a black sheep in every family, and that man is a poor, helpless brother o' mine that's taken to bad habits, and I've juist to support him and keep him oot o' sicht. It's an awfu' trial," and the figure wept, but immediately brisked itself up again. "Of course I'm Bailie MacConachie.
My hairt was sair for young Miss Gabriel for she was a bonnie and winsome lassie but for a' that, I felt that my duty was tae mysel' and that I should gang forth, even as Lot ganged oot o' the wicked cities o' the plain. That awfu' cling-clang was aye dingin' in my lugs, and I couldna bear to be alane in the passages for fear o' hearin' it ance again.
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