“I am glad to see you here, Magnus; and looking so well, that I need not inquire after your health.”
Magnus. “Why, thanks to the Best, sir, I’m brave and easy that way; but sairly hadden down wi’ the laird, wha’s threatenin’ to raise my rent that’s ower high already; but he was aye a raxward man,—and, between you and me, he’s rather greedy.”
“That’s a hard case, Magnus; you should speak to the factor, and explain your circumstances to him.”
Mag. “Oh, sir, I hae been doin’ that already; but he got into a sevandable passion, an’ said something about ‘his eye and Betty Martin;’—I’m sure I ken naething about her; but ye maun ken he’s a felonious arguer, an’ ower deep for the like o’ us puir infidel bodies.”
“Had you not better sit nearer to the table, Magnus? You are losing your victuals by keeping at such a distance.”
Mag. “Na, na, sir; I doubt ye’re mockan’ me noo; but I ken what gude manners is better than do ony siccan a thing.”
“Where is your son at present?”
Mag. “Why, thanks be praised, sir, he’s doing bravely. He follows the swindling trade awa in the south, whaur they tell me the great Bishops o’ Lunnon are proclaiming war wi’ the Papists.”
“That they are, Magnus, and ever will do.”
Mag. “Can ye tell me, sir, if it’s true that the king’s intending to part wi’ his ministers? I’m thinking it would be a’ the better for the like o’ us boons folk, and wad free us frae the tithes.”