Ye may kiss me guid nicht.

A'll tak it." Thomas bent over her and whispered in her ear, "Ay, mither, mither, ye're an angel, and that ye are." "Hoots, laddie, gang awa wi' ye," said his mother, but she held her arms about his neck and kissed him once and again.

There was no one to see, and why should they not give and take their heart's fill of love.
But when Thomas stood outside the room door, he folded his arms tight across his breast and whispered with lips that quivered, "Ay, mither, mither, mither, there's nane like ye.

There's nane like ye." And he was glad that when he went upstairs, he found Hughie unwilling to talk.
The next three days they were all busy with the planting of the potatoes, and nothing could have been better for Hughie.

The sweet, sunny air, and the kindly, wholesome earth and honest hard work were life and health to mind and heart and body.