"Dinna deeve us.

What has come ower ye that ye canna talk like a reasonable man?
Noo, Mr.Matheson, ye've had enough of the labour matters.

A'll mak ye a cup of tea." "Thank you, Mrs.McNish," said the minister gravely, "but I cannot linger.

I have still work to do to-night." He rose from his chair and found his coat.

His manner was gravely sad and gave evidence of his disappointment with the evening's conversation.
"Dinna fash yerself, minister," said the old lady, helping him on with his coat.