“Yes, Sam’l; but I thocht better o’ ‘t.”
“Hoo d’ ye mean?” asked Sam’l, a little anxiously.
“Weel, Sam’l, mairitch is a terrible responsibeelity.”
“It is so,” said Sam’l, wincing.
“An’ no the thing to tak’ up withoot conseederation.”
“But it’s a blessed and honourable state, Sanders; ye’ve heard the minister on ‘t.”
“They say,” continued the relentless Sanders, “‘at the minister doesna get on sair wi’ the wife himsel’.”
“So they do,” cried Sam’l, with a sinking at the heart.
“I’ve been telt,” Sanders went on, “‘at gin ye can get the upper han’ o’ the wife for a while at first, there’s the mair chance o’ a harmonious exeestence.”
“Bell’s no the lassie,” said Sam’l, appealingly, “to thwart her man.”