When she came to
the last verse--
'When I draw in my stool
On my cosy hearth-stane,
My heart loups sae licht
I scarce ken't for my ain,'
there was a feeling of tears in the flowing song, and we knew the words
had brought her a picture of the fireside that would always seem empty.
I felt the tears in my eyes, and, wondering at myself, I cast a stealthy
glance at the men about me; and I saw that they, too, were looking
through their hearts' windows upon firesides and ingle-neuks that
gleamed from far.
And then she sang 'The Auld Hoose,' and Geordie, giving me another
poke, said, 'That's ma ain sang,' and when I asked him what he meant,
he whispered fiercely, 'Wheesht, man!' and I did, for his face looked
dangerous.
In a pause between the verses I heard Geordie saying to himself, 'Ay, I
maun gie it up, I doot.'
'What?' I ventured.
'Naething ava.' And then he added impatiently, 'Man, but ye're an
inqueesitive buddie,' after which I subsided into silence.
Immediately upon the meeting being called to order, Mr.
Pages:
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111