human
cried I, unsheathing my Bilboa, and dealing, with a reckless disregard to expense, a terrific cut at the bed-post--
gpt
Let me catch any fellow saying that the yeomanry is not a constitutional force!
human
Lord save us a'! cried Nelly, dropping in her astonishment a platter of finnans upon the floor--
gpt
Lord save us a', and keep us frae the sin o' bluid-shed! Dear-a-me, Maister George, can that really be you! Hae ye turned offisher, and are ye gaun oot to fecht!
human
To be sure, Nelly. I have joined the yeomanry, and we shall turn out next week. How do you like the uniform?
gpt
Dinna speak to me o' unicorns! I'm auld enough to mind the days o' that bluidy murderin' villain Bonyparty, wha was loot loose upon huz, as a scourge and a tribulation for the backslidings o' a sinfu' land: and, wae's me! mony a mither that parted frae her son, maybe as bonny, or a hantle bonnier than yoursel', had sair een, and a broken heart, when she heard that her laddie was streekit cauld and stiff on the weary field o' Waterloo! Na--for gudeness sake, dinna draw yer swurd or I'll swarff! O, pit it aff--pit it aff, Maister George--There's a dear bairn, bide at hame, and dinna gang ye a sodgerin'! Think o' the mither that lo'es ye, forbye yer twa aunties. Wad ye bring doun their hairs--I canna ca' them a' grey, for Miss Kirsty's is as red as a lobster--in sorrow to the grave?
human
Why, you old fool, what are you thinking of? We are not going out to fight--merely for exercise.
gpt
Waur and waur! Can ye no tak' yer yexerceese at hame, or doun at the Links wi' golf, or gang awa' to the fishin'? Wadna that be better than stravagin' through the streets, wi' a lang swurd harlin' ahint ye, and consortin' wi' deboshed dragoons, and drinkin' the haill nicht, and rinnin' wud after the lasses? And if ye're no gaun out to fecht, what's the use o' ye? Are ye gaun to turn anither Claverse, and burn and hang puir folk like the wicked and bluid-thirsty troopers lang syne? Yexerceese indeed! I wonder, Maister George, ye're no just ashamed o' yoursel'!
human
Hold your tongue, you old fool, and bring the tea-pot.
gpt
Fule! 'Deed I'm maybe just an auld fule to gang on clattering that gate, for I never kent ye tak' gude advice sin' ye were a wean. Aweel! He that will to Cupar maun to Cupar. Ye'se hae it a' yer ain way; but maybe we'll see some day sune, when ye're carried hame on a shutter wi' a broken leg, or a stab in the wame, or a bullet in the harns, whilk o' us twa is the greater fule!
human
Confound that woman! thought I, as I pensively buttered my roll.
gpt
What with her Cameronian nonsense and her prophecies, she is enough to disband a regiment.