(JOHN opens his mouth—and shuts it again unused.)
DAVID. Ye ken perfectly well. What is it ye're wantin' a' the time?
JOHN. Different things.
DAVID (satisfied). Aye—different things! But ye want them a', do ye no'?
JOHN. Aye.
DAVID. If ye had yer ain way ye'd hae them a', eh?
JOHN. I wud that.
DAVID (triumphant). Then is that no' what ye want: yer ain way?
JOHN (enlightened). Losh!
DAVID (warming to it). That's what life is, John—gettin' yer ain way. First ye're born, an' ye canna dae anything but cry; but God's given yer mither ears an' ye get yer way by just cryin' for it. (Hastily, anticipating criticism) I ken that's no exactly in keeping with what I've been saying aboot Alexander—but a new-born bairnie's an awfu' delicate thing, an' the Lord gets it past its infancy by a dispensation of Providence very unsettling to oor poor human understandings. Ye'll notice the weans cease gettin' their wey by juist greetin' for it as shin as they're old enough to seek it otherwise.