I sez 'very well, tho' things has changed since slavery days. Those wuz good ole days for de black man; didn't hafter worry about nuthin'. Now, I sho' does mah share ob worryin'. I worries from one meal to de odder, I worries about whure I'ze gwine get some mo' clothes when dese wears out? "I tole de Governor mah 'sperience wif de Republican Party durin' de wahr.

'There was a wumman beside him dootless his whure, that had ridden oot frae Jedburgh to be wi' him nestlin' in at his side like a ewe till her ram i' the autumn; not that he was takin' muckle thocht o' her, though an' then he cries oot loud: "'Tis a moonlicht nicht, my Lord Claverhouse," he cries; "we'll hunt oor quarry ower muir an' fell, an' aiblins hae mair luck than we had i' the day; we'll run the auld brock to ground before dawn, I'll hand ye a handfu' o' Jacobuses."

He paused and looked upon her with a face of wrath, into which there stole, as he looked, a twinkle of humour. "Noansense!" he said. "You and your noansense! What do I want with a Christian faim'ly? I want Christian broth! Get me a lass that can plain-boil a potato, if she was a whure off the streets."

He paused and looked upon her with a face of wrath, into which there stole, as he looked, a twinkle of humour. "Noansense!" he said. "You and your noansense! What do I want with a Christian faim'ly? I want Christian broth! Get me a lass that can plain-boil a potato, if she was a whüre off the streets."