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"Donal Grant, by George MacDonald"

--You see I'm tellin' ye as it cam' to mysel' an' no
til anither!
"As I lay i' my bed that nicht--an' ye may be sure at my age I lay
nae langer nor jist to turn me ower ance, an' in general no that
ance--jist as I was fa'in' asleep, up gat sic a romage i' the
servan' ha', straucht 'aneth whaur I was lyin', that I thoucht to
mysel', what upo' earth's come to the place!--'Gien it bena the day
o' judgment, troth it's no the day o' sma' things!' I said. It was
as gien a' the cheirs an' tables thegither war bein' routit oot o'
their places, an' syne set back again, an' the tables turnt heels
ower heid, an' a' the glaiss an' a' the plate for the denner knockit
aboot as gien they had been sae mony hailstanes that warna wantit
ony mair, but micht jist lie whaur they fell. I couldna for the life
o' me think what it micht betoken, save an' excep' a general frenzy
had seized upo' man an' wuman i' the hoose! I got up in a hurry:
whatever was gaein' on, I wudna wullin'ly gang wantin' my share o'
the sicht! An' jist as I opened my door, wha should I hear but the
maister cryin' at the heid o' the stair,--'What, i' the name o' a'
that's holy,' says he, 'is the meanin' o' this?' An' I ran til him,
oot o' the passage, an' through the swing-door, into the great
corridor; an' says I,--''Deed, sir, I was won'erin'! an' wi' yer
leave, sir, I'll gang an' see,' I said, gaitherin' my shawl aboot me
as weel as I could to hide what was 'aneth it, or raither what wasna
'aneth it, for I hadna that mickle on.


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