but the ae skirl.

Nae doubt this judgment had some weicht upon Tam Dale; but it passed
again and him none the better. Ae day he was flyting wi' anither
sodger-lad. "Deil hae me!" quo' Tam, for he was a profane swearer. And
there was Peden glowering at him, gash an' waefu'; Peden wi' his lang
chafts an' luntin' een, the maud happed about his kist, and the hand of
him held out wi' the black nails upon the finger-nebs--for he had nae
care of the body. "Fy, fy, poor man!" cries he, "the poor fool man!
_Deil hae me_, quo' he; an' I see the deil at his oxter." The conviction
of guilt and grace cam in on Tam like the deep sea; he flang doun the
pike that was in his hands--"I will nae mair lift arms against the cause
o' Christ!" says he, and was as gude's word. There was a sair fyke in
the beginning, but the governor, seeing him resolved, gied him his
dischairge, and he went and dwallt and merried in North Berwick, and had
aye a gude name with honest folk frae that day on.

It was in the year seeventeen hunner and sax that the Bass cam in the
hands o' the Da'rymples, and there was twa men soucht the chairge of it.
Baith were weel qualified, for they had baith been sodgers in the
garrison, and kent the gate to handle solans, and the seasons and values
of them. Forby that they were baith--or they baith seemed--earnest
professors and men of comely conversation. The first of them was just
Tam Dale, my faither. The second was ane Lapraik, whom the folk ca'd Tod
Lapraik maistly, but whether for his name or his nature I could never
hear tell. Weel, Tam gaed to see Lapraik upon this business, and took
me, that was a toddlin' laddie, by the hand. Tod had his dwallin' in the
lang loan benorth the kirkyaird. It's a dark uncanny loan, forby that
the kirk has aye had an ill name since the days o' James the Saxt and
the deevil's cantrips played therein when the Queen was on the seas; and
as for Tod's house, it was in the mirkest end, and was little liked by
some that kenned the best. The door was on the sneck that day, and me
and my faither gaed straucht in. Tod was a wabster to his trade; his
loom stood in the but. There he sat, a muckle fat, white hash of a man
like creish, wi' a kind of a holy smile that gart me scunner. The hand
of him aye cawed the shuttle, but his een was steeked. We cried to him
by his name, we skirled in the deid lug of him, we shook him by the
shou'ther. Nae mainner o' service! There he sat on his dowp, an' cawed