"Marget," he said, "is my een steekit, for I think I see angels?"
"Ay are they???-close eueuch."
"Weel, that's verra weel. I'll hae a sleep noo."
He was silent for some time. Then he reverted to the fancy that Annie
was the first of the angels come to carry away his soul, and murmured
brokenly:
"Whan ye tak' it up, be carefu' hoo ye han'le 't, baith for it's some
weyk, and for it's no ower clean, and micht blaud the bonnie white
han's o' sic God-servers as yersels. I ken mysel there's ae spot ower
the hert o' 't, whilk cam o' an ill word I gied a bairn for stealin' a
neep. But they did steal a hantle that year. And there's anither spot
upo' the richt han', whilk cam o' ower gude a bargain I made wi' auld
John Thamson at Glass fair. And it wad never come oot wi' a' the soap
and water-???Hoots, I'm haverin'! It's upo' the han' o' my soul, whaur
soap and water can never come. Lord, dight it clean, and I'll gie him
't a' back whan I see him in thy kingdom. And I'll beg his pardon
forbye. But I didna chait him a'thegither. I only tuik mair nor I wad
hae gi'en for the colt mysel'. And min' ye dinna lat me fa', gaein'
throu the lift."
He went on thus, with wandering thoughts that in their wildest vagaries
were yet tending homeward; and which when least sound, were yet busy
with the wisest of mortal business--repentance.
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