_She_. “It’s fair insultin’ to rent a hoose wi’ so few convenience.”
_We_. “An’ I’m ower auld to fish ony mair,
An’ I hinna the chance to droon.”
_She_. “The work is fair sickenin’ i’ this hoose,
an’ a’ for ane puir body to do by her lane.”
_We_. “How can ye tiffany co 925 chant, ye little birds,
An’ I sae weary, fu’ o’ care?”
_She_. “Ah, but that was a fine family I lived wi’ in Glasgy;
an’ it’s a wearifu’ day’s work I’ve had the day.”
_We_. “Oh, why was I spared to cry, wae’s me!”
_She_. “Why dinna they leave floo’rs i’ the garden, makin’
sic a mess i’ the hoose wi’ ’em? It’s not for the
knowin’ what they will be a tiffany co bracelet fter next!”
_We_. “Oh, waly waly up the bank,
And waly waly doon the brae!”
Miss Grieve’s plaints never grow less, though we are sometimes at a loss for appropriate quota tiffany co tions to match them. The poetic interpolations are introduced merely to show the general spirit of her conversation. They take the place of her sighs, which are by their nature unprintable. Many times each day she is wont to sink into one low chair, and, extending her feet in another, close her eyes and murmur undistinguishable plaints which come to us in a kind of rhythmic way. She has such a shaking right hand we have been obliged to give up coffee and have tea, as the former beverage became too unsettled on its journey from the kitchen to the breakfast-table. She says she kens she is a guid cook, though salf-praise is sma’ racommendation (sma’ as it i tiffany co terminal 5 s she will get no other!); but we have little opportunity to test her skill, as she prepares only our breakfasts of eggs and porridge. Visions of home-made goodies had danced before our eyes, but as the hall clock doesna strike she is unable to rise at any exact hour, and as the range draft is bad, and the coals too hard to batter up wi’ a hatchet, we naturally have to content o tiffany uk urselves with the baker’s loaf.
And this is a truthful portrait of “Calamity Jane,” our one Pettybaw grievance.
“Gae farer up the burn to Habbie’s Howe,
Where a’ the sweets o’ spring an’ simmer grow:
Between twa birks, out o’er a little lin,
The water fa’s an’ mak’s a singan din;
A pool breast-deep, beneath as clear as glass,
Kisses, wi’ easy whirls, the bord’ring grass.”
The Gentle Shepherd.
That is what Peggy says to Jenny in Allan Ramsay’s poem, and tiffany co outlet fake if you substitute “Crummylowe” for “Habbie’s Howe” in the first line, you will have a lovely picture of the Farm-Steadin’.
You come to it by turning the corner from the inn, first passing the cottage where the lady wishes to rent two rooms for fifteen shillings a week, but will not give much attendance, as she is slightly asthmatic, and the house is always as clean as it is this minute, and the view from the window looking out on Pettybaw Bay canna be surpassed at ony money. Then comes the little house where Will’am Beattie’s sister Mary died in May, and there wasna a bonnier woman in Fife. Next is the cottage with the pansy garden, where the lady in the widow’s cap takes five o’clock tea in the bay window, and a snug little supper at eight. She has for the first scones and marmalade, and her tea is in a small black teapot under a red cozy with a white muslin cover drawn ov tiffany co careers er it. At eight she has more tea, and g tiffany co engagement rings enerally a kippered herring, or a bit of cold mutton left from the noon dinner. We note the changes in her bill of fare as we pass hastily by and feel admitted quite into the family secrets. Beyond this bay window, which is so redolent of simple peace and comfort that we long to go in and sit down, is the cottage with the double white tulips, the cottage with the collie on the front steps, the doctor’s house with the yellow laburnum tree, and then the house where the Disagreeable Woman lives. She has a lovely baby, which, to begin with, is somewhat remarkable, as disagreeable women rarely have babies; or else, having had them, rapidly lose their disagreeableness,–so rapidly that one has not time to notice it. The Disagreeable Woman’s house is at the end of the row, and across the road is a wicket gate leading–Where did it lead?–that was the very point. Along the left, as you lean wi tiffany sale stfully over the gate, there runs a stone wall topped by a green hedge; and on the right, first furrows of pale fawn, then bel tiffany co jewelry sale ow, furrows of deeper brown, and mulberry, and red ploughed earth stretching down to waving fields of green, and thence to the sea, gray, misty, opalescent, melting into the pearly white clouds, so that one cannot tell where sea ends and sky begins.
There is a path between the green hedge and the ploughed field, and it leads seductively to the farm-steadin’; or we felt that i tiffany uk sale t might thus lead, if we dared unlatch the wicket gate. Seeing no sign “Private Way,” “Trespassers Not Allowed,” or other printed defiance to the stranger, we were considering the opening of the gate, when we observed two female figures coming toward us along the path, and paused until they should come through. It was the Disagreeable Woman (though we knew it not) and an elderly friend. We accosted the friend, feeling instinctively that she was framed of softer stuff, and asked her if the path were a private one. It was a question tiffany and co that had never met her ear before, and she was too dull or too discreet to deal with it on the instant. To our amazement, she did not even manage to falter, “I couldna say.”
“Is the path private?” I repeated.
“It is cert cheap tiffany ainly the idea to keep it a little private,” said the Disagreeable Woman, coming into the conversation without being addressed. “Where do you wish to go?”
“Nowhere in particular. The walk looks s http://scheaptiffanyuk.blogspot.com/ o inviting we should like to see the end.”
“It goes only to the Farm, and you can reach that by the highroad; it is only a half-mile farther. Do you wish to call at the Farm?”
“No, oh no; the path is so very pretty that”– ③