David Elginbrod

David Elginbrod [with accents]

The Project Gutenberg Etext of David Elginbrod
by George MacDonald (#7 in our series by George MacDonald)
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Title: David Elginbrod
Author: George MacDonald
Release Date: Aug, 2000 [Etext #2291] [Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] [This file was first posted on February 25, 2002] [Most recently updated: February 25, 2002]
Edition: 11
Language: English
Character set encoding: Latin1
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Note from electronic text creator: I have compiled a word list with definitions of most of the Scottish words found in this work at the end of the book. This list does not belong to the original work, but is designed to help with the conversations in broad Scots found in this work. A further explanation of this list can be found towards the end of this document, preceding the word list.
There are two footnotes in this book which have been renumbered and placed at the end of the work.

DAVID ELGINBROD.
by GEORGE MACDONALD, LL.D.

And gladly wolde he lerne and gladly teche.
CHAUCER.

TO THE MEMORY OF LADY NOEL BYRON, THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED, WITH A LOVE STRONGER THAN DEATH.

BOOK I.
TURRIEPUFFIT.
With him there was a Ploughman, was his brother.
A trew�� swinker, and a good was he, Living in peace and perfect charity. God loved he best with all his trew�� heart, At all�� tim��s, were it gain or smart, And then his neigh��bour right as himselve.
CHAUCER.--Prologue to the Canterbury Tales.

CHAPTER I
.
THE FIR-WOOD.
Of all the flowers in the mead, Then love I roost these flowers white and rede, Such that men callen daisies in our town.
I renne blithe As soon as ever the sun ginneth west, To see this flower, how it will go to rest, For fear of night, so hateth she darkness; Her cheer is plainly spread in the brightness Of the sunne, for there it will unclose.
CHAUCER--Prologue to the Legend of Good Women.
"Meg! whaur are ye gaein' that get, like a wull shuttle? Come in to the beuk."
Meg's mother stood at the cottage door, with arms akimbo and clouded brow, calling through the boles of a little forest of fir-trees after her daughter. One would naturally presume that the phrase she employed, comparing her daughter's motions to those of a shuttle that had "gane wull," or lost its way, implied that she was watching her as she threaded her way through the trees. But although she could not see her, the fir-wood was certainly the likeliest place for her daughter to be in; and the figure she employed was not in the least inapplicable to Meg's usual mode of wandering through the trees, that operation being commonly performed in the most erratic manner possible. It was the ordinary occupation of the first hour of almost every day of Margaret's life. As soon as she woke in the morning, the fir-wood drew her towards it, and she rose and went. Through its crowd of slender pillars, she strayed hither and thither, in an aimless manner, as if resignedly haunting the neighbourhood of something she had lost, or, hopefully, that of a treasure she expected one