The afternoon was latening, but there was, I think, a quietly commemorative glow from the west.

Poh, it's all bosh! Now let us inquire in what States land is the best managed, yields the most with the least cost, where are the best sheep, the best cattle, the best hegs, the best wheat?

And as Miſs is ſo fond of fetching and carrying, you may tell her we are to have a private play among ourſelves, as the quality have: the Diſtruſtful Mother, 'tis call'd— […]

Gratefully she crooned with them, so inimitably that old Christine Inglis, on her way to early Mass, vowed the girl was fey.