" "Hout,
never mind the English pock-puddings," said Luckie Lightbody; "try our
puddings, Mr. Balderstone; there is black pudding and white-hass; try
whilk ye like best."
"Baith gude--baith excellent--canna be better; but the very smell is
eneugh for me that hae dined sae lately (the faithful wretch had fasted
since daybreak). But I wadna affront your housewifeskep, gudewife; and,
with your permission, I'se e'en pit them in my napkin, and eat them to
my supper at e'en, for I am wearied of Mysie's pastry and nonsense; ye
ken landward dainties aye pleased me best, Marion, and landward lasses
too (looking at the cooper's wife). Ne'er a bit but she looks far better
than when she married Gilbert, and then she was the bonniest lass in our
parochine and the neist till't. But gawsie cow, goodly calf."
The women smiled at the compliment each to herself, and they smiled
again to each other as Caleb wrapt up the puddings in a towel which he
had brought with him, as a dragoon carries his foraging bag to receive
what my fall in his way.
"And what news at the castle?" quo' the gudewife.
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