- dow, drew the curtain to shut out the sight
of the night and the tempest. "Harken to me, my dawtit dearie; wha' do ye ken o' the lan'? ye hae jist kim, ye ken nocht aboot it; it ha' been a' winter yet; wait till ye see the simmer."
"There is nae simmer here," said the child; "there canna be—the simmer wad na' kim here; there are nae bonnie birdies here to sit an' sing in the trees, as they do at hame, an' nae pretty rowanberries for them to eat, gin they wa'; an' the trees—they are na' like our ain trees—they hae nae leaves, they are black, an' stiff, an' awfu'; I hate to luik at them; an' aye whiles they groan an' skreigh like they were in pain. Oh, grannie! dear grannie! tak' me hame to my ain dear Scotland. I maun, I will gae back to the bonnie Hillside Farm!"
"An' wha' wad ye do, gin ye wa' there, Allie? It wad be winter there too; dinna ye mind that, my sonsie lassie? hae ye forgot that there is winter there too?"
"Na'! na'! not winter like this ane—it wa' niver sic a winter thar as this ane; it wad na' be too cauld to sit on th' auld kirk
