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MacDonald, George, 1824-1905

"Alec Forbes of Howglen"

The lee-lang nicht I stood, or lay, or kneeled upo' my
k-nees, cryin' to the Lord for grace. I forgot a' aboot election, an'
cried jist as gin I could gar him hear me by haudin' at him. An' i' the
mornin', whan the licht cam', I faund that my face was to the risin'
sun. And I crap oot o' the bog, an' hame to my ain hoose. An' ilka body
'at I met o' the road took the tither side o' 't, and glowert at me as
gin I had been a ghaist or a warlock. An' the bairns playin' aboot the
doors ran in like rabbits whan they got sicht o' me. An' I begud to
think 'at something fearsome had signed me for a reprobate; an' I jist
closed my door, and gaed to my bed, and loot my wark stan', for wha cud
wark wi' damnation hingin' ower his heid? An' three days gaed ower me,
that nothing passed my lips but a drap o' milk an' water. An' o' the
fourth day, i' the efternoon, I gaed to my wark wi' my heid swimmin'
and my hert like to brak for verra glaidness. I _was_ ane o' the
chosen.["]
"But hoo did ye fin' that oot, Thomas?" asked Annie, trembling.
"Weel, lassie," answered Thomas, with solemn conviction in every tone,
"it's my firm belief that, say what they like, there is, and there can
be, but _one_ way o' comin' to the knowledge o' that secret.


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