"Ae day's as guid's anither for thinkin' aboot onything the richt gait." "What!" retorted Robert, "-- whan we hae ta'en oor lives in oor han', an' can no more than houp we may cairry them throu' safe!" "What's that 'at ye ca' oor lives, Robert?
The Maister never made muckle o' the savin' o' sic like's them.

It seems to me they're naething but a kin' o' warl' 's gear themsel's." "An' yet," argued Robert, "ye'll tak thoucht aboot an auld umbrell?
Whaur's yer consistency, lass ?" "Gien I war tribled aboot my life," said Janet, "I cud ill spare thoucht for an auld umbrell.

But they baith trible me sae little, 'at I may jist as weel luik efter them baith.

It's auld an' casten an' bow-ribbit, it's true, but it wad ill become me to drap it wi'oot a thoucht, whan him 'at could mak haill loaves, said, 'Gether up the fragments 'at naething be lost.'-- Na," she continued, still looking about her, "I maun jist dee my duty by the auld umbrell; syne come o' 't 'at likes, I carena." So saying she walked to the lee side of a rock, and laid the umbrella close under it, then a few large stones upon it to keep it down.
I may add, that the same umbrella, recovered, and with two new ribs, served Janet to the day of her death..