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‘“Losh, Grannie,” says I, “Where in the warld hae ye come frae? It’s no canny to see ye danderin’ about there.” ‘“Ye’ve been badly brocht up,” she says, “and ye ken nocht about it. Is’t no a decent and comely thing that I should get a breath o’ air yince in the while?” ‘“Deed,” said I, “I had forgotten. Ye were sae like yoursel I never had a mind ye were deid. And how d’ ye like the Guid Place?” ‘“Wheesht, Gidden,” says she, very solemn-like, “I’m no there.” ‘Now at this I was fair flabbergasted. Grannie had aye been a guid contentit auld wumman, and to think that they hadna let her intil Heeven made me think ill o’ my ain chances. ‘“Help us, ye dinna mean to tell me ye’re in Hell?” I cries. ‘“No exactly,” says she, “But I’ll trouble ye, Gidden, to speak mair respectful about holy th