"But you didna like it?" Elspeth asked, in terror.

"No, of course I didna like it, but--"

"But what, Tommy?"

"But I liked her to like it," he admitted, and by and by he began to
laugh hysterically. "I'm no sure what I'm laughing at," he said, "but I
think it's at mysel'." He may have laughed at himself before, but this
Muckley is memorable as the occasion on which he first caught himself
doing it. The joke grew with the years, until sometimes he laughed in
his most emotional moments, suddenly seeing himself in his true light.
But it had become a bitter laugh by that time.

CHAPTER XIX

CORP IS BROUGHT TO HEEL--GRIZEL DEFIANT

Corp Shiach was a bare-footed colt of a boy, of ungainly build, with a
nose so thick and turned up that it was a certificate of character, and
his hands were covered with warts, which he had a trick of biting till
they bled. Then he rubbed them on his trousers, which were the
picturesque part of him, for he was at present "serving" to the masons
(he had "earned his keep" since long before he could remember), and so
wore the white or yellow ducks which the dust of the quarry stains a
rarer orange color than is known elsewhere. The orange of the masons'
trousers, the blue of the hearthstones, these are the most beautiful
colors to be seen in Thrums, though of course Corp was unaware of it. He
was really very good-natured, and only used his fists freely because of
imagination he had none, and thinking made him sweat, and consequently
the simplest way of proving his case was to say, "I'll fight you." What
might have been the issue of a conflict between him and Shovel was a
problem for Tommy to puzzle over. Shovel was as quick as Corp was
deliberate, and would have danced round him, putting in unexpected
ones, but if he had remained just one moment too long within Corp's
reach--

They nicknamed him Corp because he took fits, when he lay like one dead.
He was proud of his fits, was Corp, but they were a bother to him, too,
because he could make so little of them. They interested doctors and
other carriage folk, who came to his aunt's house to put their fingers
into him, and gave him sixpence, and would have given him more, but when
they pressed him to tell them what he remembered about his fits, he
could only answer dejectedly, "Not a damned thing."

"You might as well no have them ava," his wrathful aunt, with whom he
lived, would say, and she thrashed him until his size forbade it