Then Maggy ran for uncle Rabby, an uncle Rabby sent to Sandy the Souter of Seggyhole, the Souter saddled his mare, and uncle Rabby got aff at the gallop on his gray powney west the hags, an o’er by Whitehill shough, the nearest, and was at Sir James the justices lang or John was brought into judgment.
John enters, before the justice, with a red, red face, Goode’en Mr. Justice, Sir James, an’t please your honour ye manna put me in prison, for am no malefactor, but a poor honest kintry-man, that was born in an ill planet, my mither says’t I had the ill luck of a misfortune to fa’ foul wi’ furnication, and got my mither’s lass wi’ bairn the last year, and they’re gawn to father’t on me the year again.
The justice smiling, answer’d, indeed John I think it is but very just and reasonable that ye be accountable this year for your last years labours.
Jock. Ay, ay, sir, I have laboured very sair since my father died, but our plough canna get gaun for frost this four days.
Just. Ay but John, that’s no what I mean, it’s the child ye got last year, ye must be answerable for this.
Jock. A deed stir, there was twa o’ them, but there is ane o’ them dead.
Just. A well then John you’ll have the more to give the one that’s alive.
Jock. Oh! but stir, it’s my ain wean that’s dead, the ane I got wi’ my wife; I dinna ken whither the tither be mine or no.
Just. Yours or no sir, when ye told me ye got it; if ye should get it wi’ a beggar wife at the back of a dike what is that to the purpose, when it is of your getting you must maintain it.
Jock. O! yes stir, am no refusing to gie meat and meal to maintain’t; but my mither winna let me to the black-stool.