'Weel, as sure's deith, I dinna ken. Ye drive me to sweirin', mem, an' no to leein'.'
'I carena. Hae ye no idea aboot it, than, Betty?'
'Weel, mem, I think sometimes he canna be weel, and maun hae a tod (fox) in 's stamack, or something o' that nater. For what he eats is awfu'. An' I think whiles he jist gangs up the stair to eat at 's ain wull.'
'That jumps wi' my ain observations, Betty. Do ye think he micht hae a rabbit, or maybe a pair o' them, in some boxie i' the garret, noo?'
'And what for no, gin he had, mem?'
'What for no? Nesty stinkin' things! But that's no the pint. I aye hae to haud ye to the pint, Betty. The pint is, whether he has rabbits or no?'
'Or guinea-pigs,' suggested Betty.
'Weel.'
'Or maybe a pup or twa. Or I kent a laddie ance 'at keepit a haill faimily o' kittlins. Or maybe he micht hae a bit lammie. There was an uncle o' min' ain—'
'Haud yer tongue, Betty! Ye hae ower muckle to say for a' the sense there's intil 't.'