Maybe we'll come to something better." "Ay will we ?" said Annie, and resumed.
With the words, "_Thus with the year seasons return_," Tibbie's attention grew fixed; and when the reader came to the passage, "So much the rather thou, Celestial Light, Shine inward," her attention rose into rapture.
"Ay, ay, lassie! That man kent a' aboot it! He wad never hae speired gin a blin' crater like me kent what the licht was.

He kent what it was weel.

Ay did he!" "But, ye see, he was a gey auld man afore he tint his eesicht," Annie ventured to interpose.
"Sae muckle the better! He kent baith kinds.

And he kent that the sicht without the een is better nor the sicht o' the een.

Fowk nae doobt has baith; but I think whiles 'at the Lord gies a grainy mair o' the inside licht to mak' up for the loss o' the ootside; and weel I wat it doesna want muckle to do that." "But ye dinna ken what it is," objected Annie, with unnecessary persistency in the truth.
"Do ye tell me that again ?" returned Tibbie, harshly.