The word itsel' oot o' his mou' fa's as deid as chaff upo' clay.

Honest Jeames there'll rise ance mair; but never a word that man says, wi' the croon o' 's heid i' the how o' 's neck, 'll rise to beir witness o' his ministrations." "Hoot, Thamas! It's no for the likes o' me to flee i' your face--but jist say a fair word for the livin' ower the deid, ye ken." "Na, na.

It's fair words maks foul wark; and the wrath o' the Almichty maun purge this toon or a' be dune.

There's a heap o' graceless gaeins on in't; and that puir feckless body, the minister, never gies a pu' at the bridle o' salvation, to haud them aff o' the scaur (cliff) o' hell." The stone-mason generally spoke of the Almighty as if he were in a state of restrained indignation at the wrongs he endured from his children.

If Thomas was right in this, then certainly he himself was one of his offspring.