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'The queston's been speirt afore and answert. 'And what's the answer til't? ''At yer neebour's jist whaever lies neist ye i' need o' yer help. Gien ye read the tale o' the guid Sameritan wi' ony sort o' gumption, that's what ye'll read intil 't and noucht else. The man or wuman ye can help, ye hae to be neebour til. 'I want to help you. 'Ye canna help me. I'm in no need o' yer help.
"That maks the thing luik waur, nae doobt," allowed Lizzy, with something of cunning. Can ye min'?" she pursued. "I discharged him." "An' what for, gien I may mak' hold to speir, sir?" she went on. "For insolence." "Wad ye tell me hoo he answert ye? Dinna think me meddlin', sir. I'm clear certain there's been some mistak. Ye cudna be sae guid to me, an' be ill to him, ohn some mistak."
It wud ony gait gie him the best chance o' shawin til himsel 'at there wasna a hair o' the cooard upon him. 'But, said sir Haco, 'would her majesty be justified in taking the risk involved? Would it not be to peril many for a doubtful good to one? Kirsty was silent for a moment, with downcast eyes. I'm answert, sir as to that p'int, she said, looking up.
"Oot by here," he answert, "at Luckie Maitlan's." "That's a queer place for a baron to put up, Jock," says I. "There's rizzons," says he, an' lays his forefinger upo' the side o' 's nose, o' whilk there was hardly eneuch to haud it ohn gane intil the opposit ee.
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