"If every woman had plenty of honest work, there wad be nae fancy women,
for they wadna ned do it. Guid day, Leebie. Maybe you'll think I'm
strange a wee an' maybe so I am. You micht think I'm daft; an' maybe so
I am. But after a while when you get time to think, you'll maybe feel
that you hae heard mair soond sense oot o' Mag Robertson when she was
mad than ever she spoke when she was supposed to be wise. Guid day,
Leebie. Think ower a' I have said. I'm no gaun to hurt you; but I'm gaun
to tak' Black Jock oot o' your clutches as shair as daith. You've had
your innins too; but it has been a dam'd short yin. I've had mine, an'
the game is feenished noo. It's time the hale thing was totaled up so
that we can see wha is the winner. I've been maybe playin' a losin'
game, Leebie, but noo we'll ken afore lang. Guid day, Leebie. I'm off,"
and she was out of the door leaving Leebie speechless with fear and
amazement.
Mag flew down the brae to the pit almost running, while Leebie and other
neighbors looked after her with a strange dread at their hearts.
When Mag arrived at the pit she asked a boy if Walker was up the pit yet
for his breakfast.
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