Dazed by his good fortune, he rushed off with it to his aunt, whom he wearied with his repetition of the great news.
"To your bed wi' you," she said, yawning.
"Bed!" cried Corp, indignantly.

"And so, auntie, says Gavinia, 'Yes,' says she, 'I'll hae you.' Those were her never-to-be-forgotten words." "You pitiful object," answered his aunt.

"Men hae been married afore now without making sic a stramash." "I daursay," retorted Corp; "but they hinna married Gavinia." And this is the best known answer to the sneer of the cynic.
He was a public nuisance that night, and knocked various people up after they had gone to bed, to tell them that Gavinia was to have him.
He was eventually led home by kindly though indignant neighbours; but early morning found him in the country, carrying the news from farm to farm.
"No, I winna sit down," he said; "I just cried in to tell you Gavinia is to hae me." Six miles from home he saw a mud house on the top of a hill, and ascended genially.

He found at their porridge a very old lady with a nut-cracker face, and a small boy.

We shall see them again.