The robin being safely disposed of, John Murdoch began to speak to the miller of a heap o’ things, and he had the best o’t on maist o’ them; but when he cam to speak o’ kye, and on kintra matters, “I hae ye now, man,” thought the miller; but faith he found John Murdoch his match there too; and he said to himsel, “Od, but he’s a queer man that, sure eneugh.” And John Murdoch gaed on tellin’ a wheen funny stories. The miller leugh and better leugh, and Jeanie was sae ta’en up about them, that in she rins twa handfu’s o’ saut instead o’ meal into the parritch, and them sauted afore. Sae when they’re set on the table, John Murdoch gets the first platefu’; and when he tastes them, he says very gravely, “No that ill; but maybe ye’ll hae run out o’ saut?”
“Saut!” cried William, “do they want saut?” and in gangs a spoonfu’.
“Gudesake!” cried he, turning roun’ to John Murdoch.
“What’s wrang with them, William?” said the miller.
“Ou, naething, naething, father—only they’re as saut’s lick, that’s a’.”
“Gae awa wi’ your havers,” cried Jeanie; “let me taste them. Bless me! an’ how in a’ the wide warl’ could that happen? I ne’er made sic a mistak in a’ my days, an’ I canna account for’t in no gate.”
“Now dinna ye gang and vex yoursel about it,” said John Murdoch, “for they’ll just gaur the yill there gang doun a’ the better.”
“If that’s the gate o’t,” cried the miller, “they’ll need strong yill frae the first; sae, Jeanie, put ye that sma’ thing by, and bring the ither.”
“Na, na, gudeman,” says John Murdoch, “if we do that, wee’l be fou; sae let’s begin wi’ the sma’ thing first, and we can tak the strong yill afterwards, at our leisure.”
“Weel, weel,” said the miller, “sae be’t.”