Every one rushed into the middle of the road,
turned right round and looked up. Then arose such a clamour of tongues,
that it broke on the still air like a storm.
"What's ado, Betty?" asked Alec of a decrepit old creature, bent almost
double with rheumatism, who was trying hard to see something or other
in the air or on the roof of her cottage.
But before she could speak, the answer came in another form, addressing
itself to his nose instead of his ears. For out of the cottages floated
clouds of smoke, pervading the air with a variety of scents--of burning
oak-bark, of burning leather-cuttings, of damp fire-wood and peat, of
the cooking of red herrings, of the boiling of porridge, of the baking
of oat-cake, &c., &c. Happily for all the inhabitants, "thae deevils o'
loons" had used no powder here.
But the old woman, looking round when Alec spoke, and seeing that he
was one of the obnoxious school-boys, broke out thus:
"Gang an' tak the divot (turf) aff o' my lum, Alec, there's a good
laad! Ye sudna play sic tricks on puir auld bodies like me, near
brackin' in twa wi' the rheumateeze. I'm jist greetin' wi' the reek i'
my auld een."
And as she spoke she wiped her eyes with her apron.
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