It's perfeckly ridic'lous!" Having taken a little of the whisky, the old people went to change their clothes for some Jean had provided, and in the mean time she made up her fire, and prepared some breakfast for them.
"An' whaur's yer dummie ?" she asked, as they re-entered the kitchen.
"He had puir Crummie to luik efter," answered Janet; "but he micht hae been in or this time." "He'll be wi' Donal i' the byre, nae doobt," said Jean: "he's aye some shy o' comin' in wantin' an inveet." She went to the door, and called with a loud voice across the yard, through the wind and the clashing torrents, "Donal, sen' Dummie in till's brakfast." "He's awa' till's sheep," cried Donal in reply.
"Preserve 's!--the cratur 'll be lost!" said Jean.
"Less likly nor ony man aboot the place," bawled Donal, half angry with his mistress for calling his friend dummie.

"Gibbie kens better what he's aboot nor ony twa 'at thinks him a fule 'cause he canna lat oot sic stuff an' nonsense as they canna haud in." Jean went back to the kitchen, only half reassured concerning her brownie, and far from contented with his absence.

But she was glad to find that neither Janet nor Robert appeared alarmed at the news.
"I wuss the cratur had had some brakfast," she said.
"He has a piece in 's pooch," answered Janet.

"He's no oonprovidit wi' what can be made mair o'." "I dinna richtly un'erstan' ye there," said Jean.
"Ye canna hae failt to remark, mem," answered Janet, "'at whan the Maister set himsel' to feed the hungerin' thoosan's, he teuk intil's han' what there was, an' vroucht upo' that to mak mair o' 't.

I hae wussed sometimes 'at the laddie wi' the five barley loaves an' the twa sma' fishes, hadna been there that day.