human
Dowse him wi' a bucket o' water, and let him gang his ways. I like not the look o' the speldron. He is like the Brownie that my Uncle Jock yince saw on the Lang Hill o' Lowden--a fearsome taed it was, juist like this Eytalian.
gpt
Hold your peace, Saunders, commented my father.
human
You, he, and I are as God made us, and little that matters. What is written of us in the Book, _that_ alone shall praise or condemn us!
gpt
Lord's sake, Maister Cawdor, said Saunders, who always wilted before my father in his moments of spiritual reproof,
human
I was sayin' and thinkin' no different. The Book and What is Written Therein! That's the rub, an' no to be spoken o' lichtly. And after a' the craitur's a craitur, though I will say----
gpt
Say nothing, Saunders, till you have given the unfortunate to eat and drink. Then when he is recovered I shall speak with him a moment.
human
Weel, Maister Cawdor, let your speech be silver, and no gowden.
gpt
You mean, Saunders?
human
I juist mean that the buckie has a gallow's look aboot him, and if ye are so ill-advised and--aye, I will say it--sae wicked as to gie him gold, we shall a' hae our throats cuttit in our beds yin o' thae nichts!
gpt
Narrow-mindedness here and ill-thinkin' there, he said,