youdeth maun be out? but she may thank good fortune and tell her friends ay, an count it a credit that ever she bore a bystart to the like o’ him; a good fu' fat farmer's son, but ae step laigher nor a laird.
Mag.] A wae be to sic a credit ’tis no worth the cracking o’, and whar was a’ his noble equals whan he bute to lay a leg on my poor hissie, poor clarty clunny it thou is? and if they warna baith ae man’s mak I wad think nae thing o’t; for they war na a needle o’ differ between their dadies an what war they baith but twa sticket taylors at the best; an had as good a gane hame an a counted your bow kail stocks, as come here to count kindred wi’ me.
Jock.] Hout awa’ daft witless wives, I kenna what ye’re flyting about, I wad rather see the wean gin it be ony thing wally an’ like the warld.
Mit.] Indeed sall ye John, you’ll see your sin picture for little siller, a muckle mouth’t haveral it is, just like yoursel.
(The child is presented.)
Jock.] Mither, mither, it has a muckle mouth just like mine, an sees wi baith on’s een, an but five days auld yet.
Mit.] Dear Johnny thou’s no wife man, wad to hae the wean to be blin, the poor thing saw whan it was new born.
Jock.] A what ken I mither, am no sae weel skill'd as the howdies, an' them that’s ny bobbling weans but I thought they had been like the wee bits a whalpies, nine nights auld before they had seen ony.
Mit] Awa, awa, ye witless widdyfu, comparing a beast till a woman’s ain bairnie: a dog is a brute beast, and a wean is a christen’d creature.
Jock.] Na, mither, ’tis no a chrisen’d creature yet for it has neither gotten the words nor the water nor as little ken I how to ca't yet.
Mar.] I wat well ’tis a very uncanny thing to kee about a house, or yet t’ meet in the morning, a bed wanting a name.
