I hae gotten but five herring instead o' sax, and this disna look like a gude saxpennys, and I dare say this bit morsel o' beef is an unce lighter than ony that's been dealt round; and it's a bit o' the tenony hough, mair by token that yours, Maggie, is out o' the back-sey." "Mine, quo' she!" mumbled the paralytic hag--"mine is half banes, I trow.

If grit folk gie poor bodies ony thing for coming to their weddings and burials, it suld be something that wad do them gude, I think." "Their gifts," said Ailsie Gourlay, "are dealt for nae love of us, nor out of respect for whether we feed or starve.

They wad gie us whinstanes for loaves, if it would serve their ain vanity, and yet they expect us to be as gratefu', as they ca' it, as if they served us for true love and liking." "And that's truly said," answered her companion.
"But, Aislie Gourlay, ye're the auldest o' us three--did ye ever see a mair grand bridal ?" "I winna say that I have," answered the hag; "but I think soon to see as braw a burial." "And that wad please me as weel," said Annie Winnie; "for there's as large a dole, and folk are no obliged to girn and laugh, and mak murgeons, and wish joy to these hellicat quality, that lord it ower us like brute beasts.

I like to pack the dead-dole in my lap and rin ower my auld rhyme-- My loaf in my lap, my penny in my purse, Thou art ne'er the better, and I'm ne'er the worse." "That's right, Annie," said the paralytic woman; "God send us a green Yule and a fat kirkyard!" "But I wad like to ken, Luckie Gourlay, for ye're the auldest and wisest amang us, whilk o' these revellers' turn it will be to be streikit first ?" "D'ye see yon dandilly maiden," said Dame Gourlay, "a' glistenin' wi' gowd and jewels, that they are lifting up on the white horse behind that hare-brained callant in scarlet, wi' the lang sword at his side ?" "But that's the bride!" said her companion, her cold heart touched with some sort of compassion--"that's the very bride hersell! Eh, whow! sae young, sae braw, and sae bonny--and is her time sae short ?" "I tell ye," said the sibyl, "her winding sheet is up as high as her throat already, believe it wha list.

Her sand has but few grains to rin out; and nae wonder--they've been weel shaken.