And he said to his little weasel-faced,
_douce_, old-fashioned child who stood leaning against the other
door-cheek:
"That's a fine caller bit blastie, Isie! Dinna ye like to fin' 't
blawin' upo' yer het cheeks, dawtie?"
And she answered,
"Ay, I like it weel, daddie; but it min's me some upo' the winter."
And Andrew looked anxiously at the pale face of his child, who, at six
years old, in the month of June, had no business to know that there was
any winter. But she was the child of elderly parents, and had not been
born in time; so that she was now in reality about twenty.
It blew upon Robert Bruce, who had just run out into the _yard_, to see
how his potatoes and cabbages were coming on. He said
"It's some cauld," and ran in again to put on his hat.
Alec and Kate, I have said, stood looking into the darkening field. A
great flock of rooks which filled the air with their rooky gossip, was
flying straight home to an old gray ruin just visible amongst some
ancient trees. They had been gathering worms and grubs all day, and now
it was bed time. They felt, through all their black feathers, the
coolness of that evening breeze which came from the cloudy mausoleum
already built over the grave of the down-gone sun.
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