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MacDonald, George, 1824-1905

"Alec Forbes of Howglen"


'Twas a' wrang, &c.
And by the blaze the carl stud,
Wi's han's aneath his tails;
And aye he said--"I tauld ye sae,
An' ye're to blame yersels.
It's a' your wite (blame), for ye're a' wrang--
Ye'll maybe own't at last:
What gart ye burn thae deevilich weyds,
Whan the win' blew frae the wast?
Ye're a' wrang, and a' wrang,
And a'thegither a' wrang;
There's no a man in a' the warl'
But's a'thegither a' wrang."
Before the recitation was over, which was performed with considerable
spirit and truth, Annie and Dowie were listening attentively, along
with Alec, who had returned to take Annie back, and who now joined
loudly in the applause which followed the conclusion of the verses.
"Faith, that was a chield to haud oot ower frae," said Alec to Rory.
"And ye said the sang weel. Ye sud learn to sing't though."
"Maybe I may, some day; gin I cud only get a grainie saut to pit upo'
the tail o' the bird that kens the tune o' 't. What ca' they you, noo?"
"Alec Forbes," answered the owner of the name.
"Ay," interposed Annie, addressing herself to Dowie, who still held her
in his arms; "this is Alec, that I tell't ye aboot.


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