“Think ye she ever tauld onybody?”
“Mony ane, I doobtna.”
“Weel, I dinna believe ’t. I hae nae fear but she’s been dumb as deith!”
“Hoo ken ye that?—What for said she never ae word aboot ye til yer ain mither?”
“’Cause she was set on haudin her tongue. Was she to bring an owre true tale o’ me to the vera hoose I was born in? As lang as I haud til my tongue, she’ll never wag hers!—Eh, but she’s a true ane! She’s ane to lippen til!”
“Weel, I alloo, she’s deen as a wuman sud—the faut bein a’ her ain!”
“The faut bein’ a’ mine, mother, she wouldna tell what would disgrace me!”
“She micht hae kenned her secret would be safe wi’ me!”
“I micht hae said the same, but for the w’y ye spak o’ her this vera meenut!—Whaur is she, mother? Whaur’s Isy?”
“’Deed, she’s made a munelicht flittin o’ ’t!”