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"Weel, Peter, a' 'at I can say is, I ken my ain hert, an' ye dinna ken't." "Daur ye tell me!" cried Peter. "Disna the Scriptur' itsel' say the hert o' man is deceitfu' an' despratly wickit: who can know it?"
"The hert o' a wuman's no deceitfu' as the Buik says o' a man 's, an' sae 's a heap the easier deceivt. The chield's no ill-luikin'! an' I s' warran' he's no sae rouch wi' a yoong lass as wi' an auld wife." "Grizzie, ye wadna mint 'at oor Aggie's ane to be ta'en wi' the luiks o' a man!" "What for no whan it's a' the man has!
"Try, Madge," said Jeanie, "try to settle your mind and make your breast clean, and you'll find your heart easier. Just resist the devil, and he will flee from you and mind that, as my worthy father tells me, there is nae devil sae deceitfu' as our ain wandering thoughts."
She gave a piercing shriek, looked wildly round her, and abandoned herself to the most agonizing despair; exclaiming in a tone of the utmost pathos, "ah! deceitfu' man, hae ye beguiled me too!" and then she sunk back in the carriage, and buried herself in the deepest silence. 18th August. Set out to view the ruins of Dryburgh Abbey. Called on Capt.
Wha kens? He heaved a sigh, but his eye twinkled satirically, 'The hairt o' man is deceitfu' an' daisperitly wicked, and he lifted the whites of his eyes heavenward like a hound mourning. 'Was the poor man robbed? I inquired shortly. 'Ay, was he, returned my uncle; 'he was seemingly stuffed wi' bank-notes for payin' his men the day. He was gangin' hame after supper gey fou, maist like.
"Try, Madge," said Jeanie, "try to settle your mind and make your breast clean, and you'll find your heart easier. Just resist the devil, and he will flee from you and mind that, as my worthy father tells me, there is nae devil sae deceitfu' as our ain wandering thoughts."
I houpe ye thankit them, or ye left, for their muckle kindness to ye. The boys were silent. 'Didna ye thank them? 'No, grannie; I dinna think 'at we did. 'Weel, that was ill-faured o' ye. Eh! but the hert is deceitfu' aboon a' thing, and desperately wicked. Who can know it? Come awa'. Come awa'. Robert, festen the door.
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