Syne ye hae the licht in yersel--in yer ain hert; an' ye maun ken what it is.
Ye canna mistak' it." Annie was neither able nor willing to enter into an argument on the matter, although she was not satisfied.

She would rather think than dispute about it.

So she changed the subject in a measure.
"Did ye ever hear o' John Milton, Tibbie ?" she asked.
"Ow! ay.

He was blin' like mysel,' wasna he ?" "Ay, was he.

I hae been readin' a heap o' his poetry." "Eh! I wad richt weel like to hear a bittie o' 't." "Weel, here's a bit 'at he made as gin Samson was sayin' o' 't, till himsel' like, efter they had pitten oot's een--the Phillisteens, ye ken." "Ay, I ken weel eneuch.