... Mscrosrie is girnin* whalp, but hia bark is waur than his bite,'for s' that. I hae telled him that there waa naethin’ uncanny a boot the puir widow’s death, an’ he'll lat the ithers ken. Sae ye’ll hae wheen (lot) o’ them at the funeral. Roger has a’ things ...

... outside was—well the year it belonged to far. far behind. Beyond tlvJ * trance” was tlie garden where apple trees grow, whose golden youth one Jiving could remember, and cobble-paved courtyard in front of the trance led through fern-plumed arch that part ...

... inward chuckle. “Ay, pair msnnie, there’s nae heap for him withoU it. I lay a’ last nkht listenin’ to the monrnsome win’, an* I kent it was the yowl (cry) o’ unbspteezed weans in the Muckle Fire,” rite continued, sudden roleronhy overtaking her. But Macroarie ...