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wens; but I thought they had a been like the wee bits o' wha'pies, nine nights auld before they had ſeen ony.
Mith. Awa, awa, ye witleſs widdyfu'; comparing a beaſt to a woman's ain bairn; a dog is a brute beaſt, as a wean is a chriſtoned creature.
Jock. Na mither, it's no a chriſtoned creature yet, for it has neither gotten the words nor the water, nor as little do I ken how to ca' it yet.
Mar. I wat weel its an onco uncanny thing to keep about a houſe, or yet to meet in a morning a body wouting a name.
Mith. Hout tout ay, ye it's auld wives is ay fu' o' frits an religious faſhions, them that looks to frits, frits follows them, but it is ſax an thrity years ſince I was a married wife, an I never kend ſabbath day by anither ane, mony a time till the bell rang.
Mar. Dear guid wife what needs ye ſpeak ſae loud, ye fly the wean wi' crying ſae, ſee how the wean ſtarts.
Mith. Ay, ay the byſtarts is at that way, but ken ye the reaſon o' that?
Mar. Ye that kens the reaſon o' every thing may ſoon find out that too.
Mith. A deed than woman I'll tell you, the merry begotten weans, it's byſtarts I mean, it red wood, half witted hallocket fort of creatures; for an it binna ane among twenty o' them they're a ſcar'd o' the getting, for there's few o' them gotten in beds like honeſt fouks bairns, baks o' dykes, an kill logies; whar
