Then she turned to Cosmo, and was pinning his plaid together at the throat, when the wind came with a sudden howl, rushed down the chimney, and drove the level smoke into the middle of the room.

It could not shake the cottage--it was too lowly: neither could it rattle its windows--they were not made to open; but it bellowed over it like a wave over a rock, and as in contempt blew its smoke back into its throat.
"It'll be a wull nicht, I'm doobtin', Cosmo," said Agnes; "an' I wuss ye safe i' the ingle-neak wi' yer fowk." Cosmo laughed.

"The win' kens me," he said.
"Guid farbid!" cried the old woman from the bed.
[Illustration: THE CLOCK AND THE PIPE SEEMED TO BE HOLDING A SILENT TALK.] "Kenna ye wha's the prence o' 't, laddie?
Makna a jeist o' the pooers 'at be." "Gien they binna ordeent o' God, what are they but a jeist ?" returned Cosmo.

"Eh, but ye wad mak a bonny munsie o' me, Grannie, to hae me feart at the deil an' a'! I canna a' thegither help it wi' the ghaists, an' I'm ashamed o' mysel' for that; but I AM NOT gaein to heed the deil.

I defy him an' a' his works.