Within two days Annie became her constant companion--that is, from the
moment _the play_ commenced.
"I tell't ye I wad hae the licht afore lang," she said the first time
Annie came to her.
"Hoots, Tibbie! It's only an ill caud an' a host," said Annie, who from
being so much with her and Thomas had caught the modes of an elderly
woman. "Ye maunna be doonhertit."
"Doonhertit! The lassie's haverin'! Wha daured to say that I was
doonhertit within sicht o' the New Jerusalem? Order yer words better,
lassie, or else haud yer tongue."
"I beg yer pardon, Tibbie. It was ill-considered. But ye see hooever
willin' ye may be to gang, we're nane sae willin' to lat gang the grip
o' ye."
"Ye'll be a hantle better withoot me, lass. Oh, my heid! And the host's
jist like to rive me in bits, as the prophets rave their claes whan the
fowk contred them ower sair to bide. Aweel! This body's nothing but a
wheen claes to my sowl; and no verra weel made either, for the holes
for my een war forgotten i' the makin'.--I'm bit jokin', lassie; for it
was the Lord's han' that made and mismade my claes; and I'm weel
willin' to wear them as lang's he likes. Jist mak a drappy o' stoorum
to me.
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