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15 cents Angus Macalister anither auld beautiful Belinda bless blue heavens bonnie business is business cake canna charming girl Cheviot Hill Costumes cottage Crosses curse darling dear boy dear Cheviot dear papa dinna door dress in Act easy interior Enter Belvawney Enter Minnie Enter Miss Treherne Entertainment Exit Belvawney Exit Symperson Frank Dumont Frock coat hairt happy heart is growing hope hour I'm on fire income Interior scene Kissing lady latest breath Lowland lassie Maggie Macfarlane Major McGillicuddy marriage married Minnie Symperson mither Mock Trial Morning dress never Obadiah Patagonia PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY pistol Plays pretty Price PUBLISHING COMPANY PHILADELPHIA puir ruined scenery Scotch Scotland simple sits on sofa sobbing sorry stool sure tell thee there's thing thou thought tree true twa pound waist Ward Macauley wedding weel Weeping what's wife woman ye're young
Page 11 - I love you madly, passionately; I care to live but in your heart, I breathe but for your love; yet, before I actually consent to take the irrevocable step that will place me on the pinnacle of my fondest hopes, you must give me some definite idea of your pecuniary position.
Page 47 - This is a pretty business! Done out of a thousand a year; and by my own daughter! What a terrible thing is this incessant craving after money! Upon my word, some people seem to think that they're sent into the world for no other purpose but to acquire wealth; and, by Jove, they'll sacrifice their nearest and dearest relations to get it. It's most humiliating — most humiliating! (Enter CHEVIOT, in low spirits.) CHEVIOT: (throwing himself into a chair; sobs aloud) Oh Uncle Symperson, have you heard...
Page 43 - MISS TREHERNE. Minnie, if dear Cheviot should prove to be my husband, swear to me that that will not prevent your coming to stop with us — with dear Cheviot and me — whenever you can.
Page 18 - ... her than you can ever hope to be. I am full of anecdote, and all my anecdotes are in the best possible taste. I will tell you some of them some of these days, and you can judge for yourself. Maggie, if she married me, would live in a nice house in a good square. She would have wine— occasionally. She would be kept beautifully clean. Now, if you really love this girl almost as well as you love yourself, are you doing wisely or kindly in standing in the way of her getting all these good things?...
Page 8 - I'ma fairly prosperous man. What wi' farmin' a bit land, and gillieing odd times, and a bit o' poachin' now and again ; and what wi' my illicit whusky still — and throwin' trains off the line, that the poor distracted passengers may come to my cot, I've mair ways than one of making an honest living — and I'll work them a' nicht and day for my bonuie Meg ! Mrs.
Page 19 - I love you varra dearly — ye ken that right weel — an' if ye'll be troubled wi' sic a poor little mousie I'll mak' ye a true an' loving wife, but I doubt whether, wi' a' my love, I'll ever be worth as much to ye as twa pound. Dinna act in haste, dear ; tak' time to think before ye refuse this kind gentleman's offer.
Page 18 - Then reflect how you are standing in the way of her prosperity. I am a rich man. I have money, position, and education. I am a much more intellectual and generally agreeable companion for her than you can ever hope to be. I am full of anecdote, and all my anecdotes are in the best possible taste. I will tell you some of them some of these days, and you can judge for yourself. Maggie, if she married me, would live in a nice house in a good square. She would have wine— occasionally. She would be...
Page 43 - Minnie, the hope of my heart, my pet fruit tree ! Belinda, my Past, my Present, and my To Come ! I have sorry news, sorry news ! Miss Treherne. [Aside.] Sorry news ! Then I am not his wife. Minnie. [Aside.] Sorry news ! Then she is his wife. Cheviot. My dear girls, my dear girls, my journey has been fruitless ; I have no information. Miss T. and Min. No information ! Cheviot. None. The McQuibbigaskie has gone abroad ! 5.
Page 27 - At last I'm in my darling's home, the home of the bright blythe carolling thing that lit, as with a ray of heaven's sunlight, the murky gloom of my miserable schooldays. But what do I see? Tarts? Ginger wine? There are rejoicings of some kind afoot. Alas, I am out of place here. What have I in common with tarts? Oh, I am ill-attuned to scenes of revelry!