[Sir Gibbie by George MacDonald]@TWC D-Link book
Sir Gibbie

CHAPTER XI
12/21

A clean wrapper and apron, both of blue print, over a blue winsey petticoat, blue stockings, and strong shoes completed her dress.

A book lay on her lap: always when she had finished her morning's work, and made her house tidy, she sat down to have her comfort, as she called it.
The moment she saw Gibbie she rose.

Had he been the angel Gabriel, come to tell her she was wanted at the throne, her attention could not have been more immediate or thorough.

She was rather a little woman, and carried herself straight and light.
"Eh, ye puir ootcast!" she said, in the pitying voice of a mother, "hoo cam ye here sic a hicht?
Cratur, ye hae left the warl' ahin' ye.

What wad ye hae here?
I hae naething." Receiving no answer but one of the child's betwitching smiles, she stood for a moment regarding him, not in mere silence, but with a look of dumbness.


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