‘But it will be far decenter and better for a’ parties to enter into some agreement of that sort. Don’t you think so, Mrs. Walkinshaw, rather than to go on with this harsh business of proving your son an idiot?’
‘I’m no an idiot, Mr. Keelevin,’ exclaimed Walter—‘though it seems to me that there’s a thraw in the judgement o’ the family, or my mother and brother would ne’er hae raised this stramash about my capacity to take care o’ the property. Did na I keep the cows frae the corn a’ the last Ruglen fair-day, when Jock, the herd, got leave to gang in to try his luck and fortune at the roley-poleys?’
Honest Mr. Keelevin wrung his hands at this.
‘I’m sure, sir,’ said George, in his sleekest manner, ‘that you must yourself, Mr. Keelevin, be quite sensible that the inquiry ought to proceed to a verdict.’
‘I’m sensible o’ nae sic things, Mr. George,’ was the indignant answer. ‘Your brother is in as full possession of all his faculties as when your father executed the cursed entail, or when he was married to Kilmarkeckle’s dochter.’
‘’Deed, Mr. Keelevin,’ replied Walter, ‘ye’re mista’en there; for I hae had twa teeth tuggit out for the toothache since syne; and I hae grown deaf in the left lug.’
‘Did na I tell you,’ said the worthy man, angrily, ‘that ye were na to open your mouth?’
‘Really, Mr. Keelevin, I won’er to hear you,’ replied the natural, with great sincerity; ‘the mouth’s the only trance-door that I ken to the belly.’
‘Weel, weel,’ again exclaimed his friend; ‘mak a kirk and a mill o’t; but be ruled by me, and let us draw up a reasonable agreement.’
‘I’m thinking, Mr. Keelevin, that ye dinna ken that I hae made a paction with mysel to sign nae law-papers, for fear it be to the injury of Betty Bodle.’