Weel--weel; the
pick and shovel are as ready to your order as bow and fiddle."
"I wish you," said Ravenswood, "to look after the descent interment
of an old woman, Alice Gray, who lived at the Graigfoot in Ravenswood
Park."
"Alice Gray!--blind Alice!" said the sexton; "and is she gane at last?
that's another jow of the bell to bid me be ready. I mind when Habbie
Gray brought her down to this land; a likely lass she was then,
and looked ower her southland nose at us a'. I trow her pride got a
downcome. And is she e'en gane?"
"She died yesterday," said Ravenswood; "and desired to be buried here
beside her husband; you know where he lies, no doubt?"
"Ken where he lies!" answered the sexton, with national indirection of
response. "I ken whar a'body lies, that lies here. But ye were speaking
o' her grave? Lord help us, it's no an ordinar grave that will haud her
in, if a's true that folk said of Alice in her auld days; and if I gae
to six feet deep--and a warlock's grave shouldna be an inch mair ebb,
or her ain witch cummers would soon whirl her out of her shroud for a'
their auld acquaintance--and be't six feet, or be't three, wha's to pay
the making o't, I pray ye?"
"I will pay that, my friend, and all other reasonable charges.
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