“Yes, yes, I know, Mother, but I want—”
“Malcolm, ye ken what day it is. And A wull not—”
“Yes, Mother, A ken weel, but—”
“And ye ken ye'll be settin' oot for the Kirk in half an oor—”
“Half an hour, Mother? Why, it is only half past nine—”
“A ken weel what it is. But A dinna like tae be fashed and flustered in ma mind on ma way till the Hoose o' God.”
“I shall only require a very few moments, Madam,” said Mr. Wigglesworth. “The matter with w'ich I am (h)entrusted need not take more than a minute or two. In fact, I simply want to (h)announce a special, a very special meetin' of the Union this (h)afternoon.”
“A releegious meetin', Mr. Wigglesworth?” enquired Mrs. McNish.
“Well—not exactly—that is—I don't know but you might call it a religious meetin'. To my mind, Mrs. McNish, you know—”
But Mrs. McNish would have no sophistry.