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"Weel," he would return with a smile, "gang to yer frien' Thamas Crann, and he'll gie ye something a hantle better. That's ane o' the maist extrornar men I ever made acquantance wi'. He'll gie ye divine philosophy�-a dooms sicht better nor mine. But, eh! he's saft for a' that." Annie would have got more good from these readings than either of them.
I'll come and see ye the morn's nicht, gin ye'll lat me." "My name's Thomas Crann. I'm a stonemason. Speir at Robert Bruce's chop, and they'll direc ye to whaur I bide. Ye may come the morn's nicht, and welcome. Can ye sup parritch?" "Ay, weel that." "My Jean's an extrornar han' at parritch. I only houp puir Esau had half as guid for's birthricht. Ye'll hae a drappy wi' me?"
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