'Ay, ay; she wore a flowered silk tabby sacque, on band days,' said Toole, who had an eye and a corner in his memory for female costume, 'a fine showy—I remember.'
The waggoner scratched his head, and quoth he, “ Eh, missus, what'll the measter say'l I be despert feared she've ' fainted, poor zowl! ”
I let fall the tiller, turned my back on them, and sat down on the foremost thwart.
She never seemed to want for siller; the house was as bright as a new preen, the yaird better delved than the manse garden; and there was routh of fowls and doos about the small steading, forbye a wheen sheep and milk-kye in the fields.
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