That
'll be what the deep sleep fa's upo' men for, doobtless--to haud
them oot o' his gait! Eh! I wuss he wad come oot whan I was by! I
micht get a glimp o' 'm.--Maybe he wad tak the hump aff o' me,
an' set things in order i' my heid, an' mak me like ither fowk.
Eh me! that wad be gran'! Naebody wad daur to touch me syne. Eh!
Michty! come oot! Father o' lichts! Father o' lichts!"
He went on repeating the words till, growing softer and softer,
his voice died away in silence, and still as his seat of stone he
sat, a new Job, on the verge of the world waters, like the old Job
on his dunghill when he cried out,--
"Lo, he goeth by me, and I see him not; he passeth on also, but I
perceive him not--Call thou, and I will answer; or let me speak
and answer thou me.--Oh that I knew where I might find him! that
I might come even to his seat!--Behold I go forward, but he is not
there; and backward, but I cannot perceive him; on the left hand,
where he doth work, but I cannot behold him; he hideth himself on
the right hand, that I cannot see him."
At length he rose and wandered away from the shore, his head sunk
upon his chest. Phemy rose also and followed him in silence. The
child had little of the poetic element in her nature, but she had
much of that from which everything else has to be developed--
heart. When they reached the top of the brae, she joined him, and
said, putting her hand in his, but not looking at, or even turning
towards him, "Maybe he 'll come oot upo' ye afore ye ken some day
--whan ye 're no luikin' for him.
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