"'A lord!' ejaculated the astonished Mrs Dods: 'a lord come down to the Waal!—they will be neither to haud nor to bind now—ance wud and aye waur—a lord!—set them up and shute them forward—a lord!—the Lord have a care o' us!—a lord at the hottle! Maister Touchwood, it's my mind he will only prove to be a Lord o' Session.'"—St Ronan's Well.
Set that doun on the backside o' your count-book.
That is, I have done you a service, see that you repay it.
Set your foot upon that, an' it winna loup in your face.
Shallow waters mak maist din.
"Shame fa' the couple," as the cow said to her fore feet.
Shame fa' the dog that, when he hunted you, didna gar you rin faster.
Shame fa' them that think shame to do themsels a gude turn.
Shame's past the shed o' your hair.