“Ach, this is no’ a proper wake,” said Rob Anybody. “There should be singin’ an’ boozin’ an’ the flexin’ o’ the knees, no’ all this standin’ aroond gossipin’.” “Well, gossiping’s part of witchcraft,” said Tiffany. “They’re checking to see if they’ve gone batty yet. What is the flexin’ o’ the knees?” “The dancin’, ye ken,” said Rob. “The jigs an’ reels. ’Tis no’ a good wake unless the hands is flingin’ an’ the feets is twinklin’ an’ the knees is flexin’ an’ the kilts is flyin’.” Tiffany had never seen the Feegles dance, but she had heard them. It sounded like warfare, which was probably how it
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