"I shanna forget this.
Hoo got ye't ?" "Never ye min' that.

I didna steal't," answered Annie.

"But I maun win in again," she added, suddenly awaking to that difficult necessity, and looking up at the window above her head.
"I'm a predestined idiot!" said Alec, with an impious allusion to the Shorter Catechism, as he scratched his helpless head.

"I never thocht o' that." It was clearly impossible.
"Ye'll catch't," said one of the urchins to Annie, with his nose flattened against the window.
The roses of Annie's face turned pale, but she answered stoutly, "Weel! I care as little as the lave o' ye, I'm thinkin'." By this time the "idiot" had made up his mind.

He never could make up any other than a bull-headed mind.
"Rin hame, Annie," he said; "and gin Murder offers to lay a finger o' ye upo' Monday, _I'll_ murder him.