Mr.
D?
Ay, I ken him fine; he micht be waur, though he's ower fond o' the kittle pairts o' the Old Testament; but he reads his sermon frae the paper, an' it's an auld sayin', 'If a meenister canna mind [remember] his ain discoorse, nae mair can the congregation be expectit to mind it.'...

Mr.E?
He's my ain meenister." (She has a pillow in her mouth now, but though she is shaking it as a terrier would a rat, and drawing on the linen slip at the same time, she is still intelligible between the jerks).

"Susanna says his sermon is like claith made o' soond 'oo [wool] wi' a guid twined thread, an' wairpit an' weftit wi' doctrine.
Susanna kens her Bible weel, but she's never gaed forrit." (To 'gang forrit' is to take the communion).

"Dr.F?
I ca' him the greetin' doctor! He's aye dingin' the dust oot o' the poopit cushions, an' greetin' ower the sins o' the human race, an' eespecially o' his ain congregation.

He's waur sin his last wife sickened an' slippit awa'.
'Twas a chastenin' he'd put up wi' twice afore, but he grat nane the less.