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Old Mortality, Volume 1. by Sir Walter Scott
page 124 of 328 (37%)
mither," said Cuddie, interrupting her, "what need ye mak sae muckle din
about it? I hae aye dune whate'er ye bade me, and gaed to kirk whare'er
ye likit on the Sundays, and fended weel for ye in the ilka days besides.
And that's what vexes me mair than a' the rest, when I think how I am to
fend for ye now in thae brickle times. I am no clear if I can pleugh ony
place but the Mains and Mucklewhame, at least I never tried ony other
grund, and it wadna come natural to me. And nae neighbouring heritors
will daur to take us, after being turned aff thae bounds for
non-enormity."

"Non-conformity, hinnie," sighed Mause, "is the name that thae warldly
men gie us."

"Weel, aweel--we'll hae to gang to a far country, maybe twall or fifteen
miles aff. I could be a dragoon, nae doubt, for I can ride and play wi'
the broadsword a bit, but ye wad be roaring about your blessing and your
grey hairs." (Here Mause's exclamations became extreme.) "Weel, weel, I
but spoke o't; besides, ye're ower auld to be sitting cocked up on a
baggage-waggon wi' Eppie Dumblane, the corporal's wife. Sae what's to
come o' us I canna weel see--I doubt I'll hae to tak the hills wi' the
wild whigs, as they ca' them, and then it will be my lo to be shot down
like a mawkin at some dikeside, or to be sent to heaven wi' a Saint
Johnstone's tippit about my hause."

"O, my bonnie Cuddie," said the zealous Mause, "forbear sic carnal,
self-seeking language, whilk is just a misdoubting o' Providence--I have
not seen the son of the righteous begging his bread, sae says the text;
and your father was a douce honest man, though somewhat warldly in his
dealings, and cumbered about earthly things, e'en like yoursell, my jo!"

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