Gien it gaedna ower weel wi' her i' the auld man's time, it gangs waur wi' her noo; for sae lang as he was abune the yird there was aye somebody to ken whether she was livin' or deid.

To see a bonnie lass like her strayin' aboot the place nae better companied nor wi' an auld buik--it's jist eneuch to brak a man's hert, but that age kills rage." "Do the neighbours take no notice of her ?" "Nane o' her ain dignity, like.

Ye see she's naething but bonny.
She HAS naething.

An' though she's as guid a cratur as ever lived, the cauld grun' o' her poverty gaithers the fog o' an ill report.
Troth, for her faimily, the ill's there, report or no report; but, a' the same, gien she had been rich, an' her father--I'll no say the hangman, but him 'at he last hangt, there wad be fowth (PLENTY) o' coonty-fowk wad hae her til her denner wi' them.

An' I'm thinkin' maybe she's the prooder for her poverty, an' winna gang til her inferriors sae lang as her aiquals dinna invete her.