addin'--"It's ower
late to be thinkin' aboot startin' to the Bible efter Gabriel's begun
to blaw his tuter, Sandy. Come awa' to your bed!"

Sandy got himsel' squeezed up atween the bed an' the wa'; an' at ilky
hooch an whirr 'at the wind gae he wheenged an' groaned like's he was
terriple ill wi' his inside; an' aye he was sayin', "I've been a lazy
gaen-aboot vegabon', an' ill-hertit vague. O dear, Bawbie, what'll we
do?"

I cam' to mysel' efter a whilie, an' raise an' tried the gas, an' it
lichtit a' richt. The wind was tearin' an' rivin' at the ruif at this
time something terriple. "We'll go doon the stair, Sandy," says I; an'
I made for the door.

"For ony sake, Bawbie," roared Sandy oot o' the bed, "wait till I get
on my breeks. If ye lave me, I'll g'wa' in a fit--as shore's ocht."

We got doon the stair an' I lichtit the fire an' got the kettle to the
boil, an' we sat an' harkined to the wind skreechin' doon the lum, an'
groanin' an' wailin' amon' the trees ower the road, an' soochin' roond
aboot the washin'-hoose. I raley never heard the marrow o't. The
nicht o' the fa'a'in' o' the Tay Brig was but the blawin' oot o' a
can'le aside it. I' the middle o' an awfu' sooch there was a fearfu'
reeshil at oor door, an' Sandy fair jamp aff his chair wi' the start.

"A'ye in, Sandy?" cried Dauvid Kenawee, in a nervish kind o' a voice.

I awa' an' opened the door, an' here was Dauvid an' Mistress
Kenawee--Dauvid wi' his pints wallopin' amon' his feet, an' his weyscot
lowse, an' Mistress Kenawee juist wi' her short-goon an' a shallie on.

"This is shurely the end o' the world comin'," said Mistress Kenawee,
near greetin'. "O dear me, I think something's genna come ower me."

"Tuts 'oman, sit doon," says Dauvid, altho' he was in a fell state
aboot her. I cud see that brawly.

The sicht o' the puir wafilly budy akinda drave the fear awa frae me;
an' I maskit a cup o' tea, an' crackit awa till her till we got her
cowshined doon. Their back winda had been blawn in, and Dauvid had
tried to keep oot the wind wi' a mattress; but the wind had tummeled
baith Dauvid an' the mattress heels ower gowrie, an' the wife got intil
a terriple state. They cudna bide i' the hoose ony langer, an' i' the
warst o't a', they cam' awa through a shoer o' sklates, an' bricks, an'
lum-cans, an' gless, to see if we wud lat them in.

I garred Sandy pet on a bit ham, and drew anower the table, and tried
to keep them frae thinkin' abo