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The Lilac Sunbonnet by S. R. (Samuel Rutherford) Crockett
page 74 of 368 (20%)
the night wind began to draw southward in cool gulps of air off
the hills, Winsome Charteris's window was softly closed.

"Hae ye nocht better than that to tell us, cuif?" said Meg,
briskly, "nocht fresh-like?"

"Weel," said Saunders Mowdiewort, groping round for a subject of
general interest, his profession and his affection being alike
debarred, "there's that young Enbra' lad that's come till the
manse. He's a queer root, him."

"What's queer aboot him?" asked Meg, in a semi-belligerent manner.
A young man who had burned his fingers for her mistress's sake
must not be lightly spoken of.

"Oh, nocht to his discredit ava, only Manse Bell heard him arguin'
wi' the minister aboot the weemen-folk the day that he cam'. He
canna' bide them, she says."

"He has but puir taste," said Ebie Farrish; "a snod bit lass is
the bonniest work o' Natur'. Noo for mysel'--"

"D'ye want anither?" asked Jess, without apparent connection.

"He'll maybe mend o' that opeenion, as mony a wise man has dune
afore him," said Meg, sententiously. "Gae on, cuif; what else
aboot the young man?"

"Oh, he's a lad o' great lear. He can read ony language back or
forrit, up or doon, as easy as suppin' sowens. He can speak
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