She turns 't ower and ower jist like a muckle tyke (dog) worryin' a rottan (rat).' 'De'il a bit o' her s' be a hair wiser! Ye dinna play tunes upo' the boxie, man.' Robert caught at the idea.

He lifted the 'bonny leddy' from her coffin; and while he was absorbed in the contemplation of her risen beauty, Shargar laid his hands on Boston's Four-fold State, the torment of his life on the Sunday evenings which it was his turn to spend with Mrs.
Falconer, and threw it as an offering to the powers of Hades into the case, which he then buried carefully, with the feather-bed for mould, the blankets for sod, and the counterpane studiously arranged for stone, over it.

He took heed, however, not to let Robert know of the substitution of Boston for the fiddle, because he knew Robert could not tell a lie.

Therefore, when he murmured over the volume some of its own words which he had read the preceding Sunday, it was in a quite inaudible whisper: 'Now is it good for nothing but to cumber the ground, and furnish fuel for Tophet.' Robert must now hide the violin better than his grannie had done, while at the same time it was a more delicate necessity, seeing it had lost its shell, and he shrunk from putting her in the power of the shoemaker again.

It cost him much trouble to fix on the place that was least unsuitable.