A 've nae suner got hame aifter ma accident but ye're tormentin' me on the verra road wi' yir Session.

Ye drave me awa' aince, an' noo ye wud harry (hunt) me aft again." "A weel, a weel"-- and John was quite calm--"dinna pit yirsel' in a feery farry (excitement); ye 'll gang yir ain wy and earn yir ain jidgment.

It wes for yir gude a' spoke, and noo a 've dune ma pairt, an' whatever comes o't, ye 'll no hae me or ony ither body tae blame." "What think ye 'll happen ?"--evidently sobered by John's tone, yet keeping up a show of defiance.

"Ye wud think the Session wes the Sheriff o' Perthshire tae hear ye blawin' and threatenin'." "It's no for me tae say what may befa' ye, Peter Ferguson, for a 'm no yir jidge, but juist a frail mortal, beadle though I be; but a' may hev ma thochts.
"Ye refused the summons sax month syne, and took yir wys tae London--that wes contumacy added tae yir ither sin.

Nae doot ye made certain ye hed escapit, but hed ye?
A' leave it tae yirsel', for the answer is in yir body," and John examined Peter's wooden leg with an austere interest.
"Ay, ay, ma man," he resumed--for Peter was now quite silenced by this uncompromising interpretation of the ways of Providence--"ye aff tae London, an' the Lord aifter ye, an' whuppit aff ae leg.