Summary

Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland…

It is a foolish fancy for an old man to cherish, yet I cannot bid it depart. Go, then, alone, my dearest lad, and leave me in these scenes, which have become part of my being, to perform the duties in which my life has been spent. And still remember, William, when temptations assail thee, or bad men would lead thee by the cords of vanity or friendship into vice, that there is a grey-haired man among these hills, whom the tale would send in sorrow to the grave—a heart that for twenty years has been fed by its love for thee, which would break to know thou hadst become unworthy of that love.
Source: Gutenberg

Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland…

Jock looked forward to the pleasure which he should have in spending a whole day with the peerless Lizzie Gimmerton—stuffing her pockets with sweeties and gingerbread, and paying innumerable compliments to her beauty the while; and poor Nelly apprehended nothing less than the loss of every particle of that influence which she had some reason for supposing she now possessed over him. In this dilemma, she resolved to accompany him to the scene of action, and there to watch the revolutions of the wheel of fortune, if peradventure anything in her favour might turn up.
Source: Gutenberg

Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland…

If her suit was rejected, she flung herself upon the haughty deacon's bosom, and sobbed; and what deacon could withstand the appeal of beauty in tears? The sight was the very personification of the triumph of his pride and dignity. The chain of his official authority, and the arms of a praying, supplicating, weeping wife, hanging at the same time around his proud neck, were the very counterparts of each other. His love of subjugation bent, as it often does, his own head; and cunning enjoyed its greatest triumph in overcoming one, by turning his own weapons against himself.
Source: Gutenberg

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