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there is ay ſomeboby wandering to ſcar poor neadfu' perſons, at their job o' journey wark; for weel ken I the gait's o't, experiance gars me ſpeak.
Jock. A deed mither that's very true, for whan I was getting that waen at the black hole o' the peat ſtack. John Gammel's muckle colly came in behind us wi' a bow wow o' a great goul juſt abune my buttocks, an as am a ſinner, he gart me loup levrock hight, an yet wi' got a wean for a that.
Mith. A weel than Johnny that makes my words good yet.
Jenny Answers out o' the bed. A ſhame fa' your faſhions ye hae na muckle to keep whan ye tell how it was gotten or what was at the getting o't.
Jock. A ſhame fa' yourſell Jenny, for I hae gotten my part o' the ſhame elſe an gin ye hadna tell'd firſt, there wad nane kend, for nae body ſaw us but John Gammels auld colly, an he's no a suſſicent witneſs.
Mar. Now guidwife amang a' the tales ye hae tell'd me, how is this wean to be mantained.
Mith I'll chance on your auld black mouth Marrion, did not I lead you my good ſpirtled hen a pund o butter an a ſaxpence, forby a lippy o' groats an a furlot o' meal; mak her a good cogefu' o' broſe, an put a knoiſt o butter in them, to fill up the hole whar the lown came out, an' i'll ſend you mair or that be done.
Mar. An it be nae better nor the laſt ye may een keep it to yourſel, your groat meal an gay
