"Maybe I'll unnerstan' 't better nor you, bairn. Read awa'."
So admonished, Annie read. Tibbie fidgeted about on her seat. It was impossible either should understand it. And the proper names were a great puzzle to them.
"Tammy Riss!" said Tibbie; "I ken naething aboot him."
"Na, neither do I," said Annie; and beginning the line again, she blundered over "blind Maeonides."
"Ye're readin' 't wrang, bairn. It sud be 'nae ony days,' for there's nae days or nichts either to the blin'. They dinna ken the differ, ye see."
"I'm readin' 't as I hae't," answered Annie. "It's a muckle M."
"I ken naething aboot yer muckle or yer little Ms," retorted Tibbie, with indignation. "Gin that binna what it means, it's ayont me. Read awa'. Maybe we'll come to something better."
"Ay will we?" said Annie, and resumed.
With the words, "Thus with the year seasons return," Tibbie's attention grew fixed; and when the reader came to the passage,
"So much the rather thou, Celestial Light,
Shine inward,"