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'No, that's true eneuch! What for wad ye want to gang fechtin? 'To shaw the warl' I'm nane o' what my mither ca'd me. 'And shawn that, hoo muckle the better man wud ye be for 't? Min' ye it's ae thing to be, and anither to shaw. Be ye maun; shaw ye needna. 'I dinna ken; I micht be growin better a' the time! 'And ye micht be growin waur. What the better wud ony neebour be for ye gane fechtin?
I maun jist lea' ye to him!" "Ye couldna dee a kinder thing! I desire naething better frae man or minister than be left to Him." "Weel, weel, see til yersel." "I'll see to him, and try to loe my neebour that's you, Mr. Pethrie. I'll hae yer shune ready by Setterday, sir. I trust they'll be worthy o' the feet that God made, and that hae to be shod by me.
If anything happens to me, she has friends at Cork she thinks so at least and they'd get her out to service somewhere God knows!" And his face worked fearfully a minute. "Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori!" said I. "There are twa methods o' fulfilling that saw, I'm thinkin'. Impreemis, to shoot your neebour; in secundis, to hang yoursel."
I hae the cairts on me, maybe ye'd take a hand, sir, at Beggar ma Neebour, or Catch the Ten? Ye needna be feared, a can pay gin I lose. He dragged out his cards, and a handful of silver. The rough customers between whom Merton was sitting began to laugh hoarsely. The old gentleman frowned. 'I shall change my carriage at the next station, he said, 'and I shall report you for gambling.
Ye see we a' ken we ha'e dune wrang, but we ha'ena a' confessed. An' it's a queer thing, but a man'll think it gran' o' 's neebour to confess, whan a' the time there's something he winna repent o' himsel' for fear o' the shame o' ha'ein' to confess 't. To me, the shame lies in no confessin' efter ye ken ye're wrang. Ye'll see, sir, the fisher fowk 'll min' what ye say to them a heap better noo."
But jist i' the nick o' time by cam the guid Samaritan, an' set him rinnin'. Sae it was sune a sma' maitter to onybody but the ill neebour, wha couldna weel gang straucht to Paradise. Abraham wad hae a fine time o' 't wi' sic a bairn in 's bosom!" "Damn the women!
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