" what 's that , tibby ? " said the weaver , with a start as the little cake flew past him . " oh ! " cried she in delight , jumping to her feet , " it is a wee bannock . i wonder where it came from ? " " dinna bother your head about that , tibby , " said her man , " but grip it , my woman , grip it . "
what did the weaver's husband want her to do ?
grab the bannock .
grip it .