Maybe it'll ile my thrapple a bit. I winna be lang ahin Eppie
Shawn."
That was the woman who had occupied the other end of the cottage and
had died in the spring.
So Annie waited on Tibbie day and night. And that year, for the first
time since she came to Glamerton, the harvest began without her. But
when Tibbie got a little better, she used to run out now and then to
see what progress the reapers were making.
One bright forenoon Tibbie, feeling better, said to her,
"Noo, bairn, I'm a hantle better the day, and ye maun jist rin oot and
play yersel'. Ye're but a bairn, though ye hae the wit o' a wumman.
Ye'll be laid up yersel' gin ye dinna get a stammachfu' o' the caller
air noo and than. Sae jist rin awa', an' dinna lat me see ye afore
denner-time."
At Howglen, there happened, this year, to be a field of oats not far
from the house, the reaping of which was to begin that day. It was very
warm, and glorious with sunshine. So, after a few stooks had been set
up, Alec crawled out with the help of his mother and Kate, and lay down
on some sheaves, sheltered from the sun by a stook, and watched. The
men and women and corn leaned all one way. The oats hung their curved
heads of little pendulous bells, and gave out a low murmuring
sibilation--its only lament that its day was over, and sun and wind no
more for it.
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