“Weel, laird--I winna say _feart_, for I never saw yer lairdship” --she had got into the way of saying _lordship_, and now not unfrequently said _lairdship_!--“feart afore bull or bully, but I cud weel believe ye wadna willin’ly anger ane ’at the Lord lats gang up and doon upo’ the earth, whan he wad be far better intil ’t, ristin’ in ’s grave till the resurrection--only he was never ane o’ the sancts! But anent that, michtna ye jist ca’ to min’, laird, ’at a gi’en gift’s yer ain, to du wi’ what ye like; an’ I wad na heed man, no to say a cratur ’at belangs richtly to nae warl’ ava’, ’at wad play the bairn, an’ want back what he had gi’en. For him, he’s a mere deid man ’at winna lie still. Mony a bairn canna sleep, ’cause he’s behavet himsel’ ill the day afore! But gi’en, by coortesy like, he hed a word i’ the case, he cudna objec’--that is, gien he hae onything o’ the gentleman left intil him, which nae doobt may weel be doobtfu’--for wasna he a byous expense wi’ his drink an’ the gran’ ootlandish dishes he bude to hae! Aften hae I h’ard auld Grannie say as muckle, an’ she kens mair aboot that portion o’ oor history nor ony ither, for, ye see, I cam raither late intil the faimily mysel’. Sae, as I say, it wad be but fair the auld captain sud contreebit something to the needcessities o’ the hoose, war it his to withhaud, which I mainteen it is not.” “Weel rizzont, Grizzie!” cried the laird. “An’ I thank ye mair for yer thoucht nor yer rizzons; the tane I was in want o’, the tither I was na. The thing sall be luikit intil, an’ that the first thing the morn’s mornin’! The bit playock cam never i’ my heid! I maun be growin’ auld, Grizzie, no to hae thoucht o’ a thing sae plain! But it’s the w’y wi’ a’ the best things! They’re sae guid whan ye get a grip o’ them, ’at ye canna un’erstan’ hoo ye never thoucht o’ them afore.” “I’m aul’er nor you, sir; sae it maun hae been the Lord himsel’ ’at pat it intil me.” “We’ll see the morn, Grizzie. I’m no that sure there’s onything mair intil ’t nor a mere fule word. For onything I ken, the thing may be nae better nor a bit o’ braiss. I hae thoucht mony a time it luikit, in places, unco like braiss. But I s’ tak it the morn’s mornin’ to Jeemie Merson. We’ll see what he says til ’t. Gien ony body i’ these pairts hae ony authority in sic maitters, it’s Jeemie. An’ I thank ye hertily, Grizzie.” But Grizzie was not well pleased that her master should so lightly pass the reasoned portion of her utterance; like many another prophet, she prized more the part of her prophecy that came from herself, than the part that came from the Lord. “Sae plain as he cam an’ gaed, laird, I thoucht ye micht hae been considerin’ him.” The laird replied to her tone rather than her words. “Hoots, Grizzie, wuman!” he said, “was na ye jist tellin’ me no to heed him a hair? An’ no ae hair wad I heed him, ’cep’ it wad gie ony rist til ’s puir wan’erin’ sowl.”