Untitled - Beeldbibliotheek

OUR MARCH TO THE WEST 165" Weel," said the old minister, as I helped himdown the steps," I can only say that it's anawfu' way tae see the country." And I wasvery grateful to him for this happy variant uponthe phrase that haunts me wherever I go. Iunderstand that by " awful " he meant to expressall that is charming, even as I have hearda Scotchman speak of a " horrid bonny lassie."And Iwas pleased to find that in this favouredspot of Gairjoch they use, as is most meet, aphraseology of their own." " Yes," said I. It is indeed Awful."The minister walked round the van, weighingits substance with his eye. Then he turned againto me." Where was it erected ?" he asked. And thatalso pleased me, for well I knew that any one outof Gairloch would have asked all unconsciousof the platitude where it was built. Not that itever was erected, for when itwas a question ofputting it together its body descended from above.And while we were waiting for a promisedcaller from over the hill who was long overdue,my friend added one more quaint phrase to hisexamples of the Gairloch tongue. He lookedwistfully up the road and " Will he come on"his foot ? he asked.