the double _o_ would be, and
that in "hure," for grace' sake, to soften the word; so also "flaes" for
"fleas." "Mony" for "many" is again positively right in sound, and
"neuk" differs from our "nook" in sense, and is not the same word at
all, as we shall presently see.

Secondly, observe, not a word is corrupted in any indecent haste,
slowness, slovenliness, or incapacity of pronunciation. There is no
lisping, drawling, slobbering, or snuffling: the speech is as clear as a
bell and as keen as an arrow: and its elisions and contractions are
either melodious, ("na," for "not,"--"pu'd," for "pulled,") or as normal
as in a Latin verse. The long words are delivered without the slightest
bungling; and "bigging" finished to its last _g_.

33. I take the important words now in their places.

_Brave._ The old English sense of the word in "to go brave," retained,
expressing Andrew's sincere and respectful admiration. Had he meant to
insinuate a hint of the church's being too fine, he would have said
"braw."

_Kirk._ This is of course just as pure and unprovincial a word as
"Kirche," or "eglise."

_Whigmaleerie._ I cannot get at the root of this word, but it is one
showing that the speaker is not bound by classic rules, but will use any
syllables that will enrich his meaning. "Nipperty-tipperty" (of his
master's "poetry-nonsense") is another word of the same class.
"Curliewurlie" is of course just as pure as Shakespeare's "Hurlyburly."
But see first suggestion of the idea to Scott at Blair-Adam (L. vi.
264).

_Opensteek hems._ More description, or better, of the later Gothic
cannot be put into four syllables. "Steek," melodious for stitch, has a
combined sense of closing or fastening. And note that the later Gothic
being precisely what Scott knew best (in Melrose) and liked best, it is,
here as elsewhere, quite as much himself[59] as Frank, that he is
laughing at, when he laughs _with_ Andrew, whose "opensteek hems" are
only a ruder metaphor for his own "willow-wreaths changed to stone."

_Gunpowther._ "-Ther" is a lingering vestige of the French "-dre."

_Syne._ One of the melodious and mysterious Scottish words which have
partly the sound of wind and stream in them, and partly the range of
softened idea which is like a distance of blue hills over border land
("far in the distant Cheviot's blue"). Perhaps even the least
sympathetic "Englisher" might recognize this, if he heard "Old Long
Since" vocally substituted for t