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Now, what the devil has science to do with botany or gardening?" "Weel, your honor, it wadna just become me to dispute wi' ye upon that or any ither subjeck; but for a' that, it required profoond sceence, and vera extensive learnin' to classify an' arrange a' the plants o' the yearth, an' to gie them names, by whilk they dan be known throughout a' the nations o' the warld."

"Well, well I suppose I must let you have your way." "Why, your honor," replied Malcomson, "'am sure it mair becomes me to let you hae yours; but regerding this ould carl, I winna say, but he has been weel indoctrinated in the sceence." "Ahem! well, well, go on." "An' it's no easy to guess whare he could hae gotten it.

I would get him a suit of clothes, and he would not take either; but talked about some silly penance he was undergoing." "Saul, then, your honor, he may be a fule in ither things, but de'il a ane of him's a fule in the sceence o' buttany.

He cam' here as a gaberlunzie, and on stating that he was indoctrinated in the sceence o' buttany, his honor garred me employ him. De'il hae't but the truth I'll tell he's a clever buttanist, and knows a' the sceentific names aff hand." "So that's all you know about him?" said Sir Robert. "He has a devil of a beard, and is shockingly dressed. Why doesn't he shave?"

"Well, Malcomson," said he, "how do you like the bearded fellow in the garden?" "Ou, yer honor, weel eneugh; he does ken something o' the sceence o' buttany, an' 'am thinkin' he must hae been a gude spell in Scotland, for I canna guess whare else he could hae become acquent wi' it." "I see Malcomson, you'll still persist in your confounded pedantry about your science.

"Na, na, your honor; a shilling's no for a man that understands the sceence o' buttany: a shilling's for a flunky in livery; but as for me, I couldna conscientiously condescend upon less than ten o' them, or may be a pund British, but I'm feart that's contrair to your honor's habits."

No one man could manage your gerden, and it canna be managed without some clever chiel, what understands the sceence." "The what?" "The sceence, your honor." "Why, confound you, sir, what science is necessary in gardening?" "I tell your honor that the management of a gerden requires baith skeel and knowledge, and feelosophy." "Why, confound you, sir, again, what kind of doctrine is this?"