"You?
My Samuel?
It's a lie," he cried.
"Hey, mon, guairrd y're tongue a bit," said Mack.

"Mind ye're speakin' to a leddy." "A lidy! A lidy!" Mr.Wigglesworth's voice was eloquent of scorn.
"Aye, a leddy!" said Mack.

"An' mind what ye say aboot her tae.

Mind y're manners, man." "My manners, hey?
An' 'oo may you be, to learn me manners, you bloomin' (h)ignorant Scotch (h)ass.

You give me (h)any of your (h)imperance an' I'll knock y're bloomin' block (h)off, I will." And Mr.Wigglesworth, throwing himself into the approved pugilistic attitude, began dancing about the young Scot.
"Hoot, mon, awa' hame wi' ye.