He's mad nae mair, ony gait."
"How? Will he pe not tead? Ta poor lairt! Ta poor maad lairt!"
"Ay, he's deid: maybe that's what 'll be troublin' yer sicht,
daddy."
"No, my son. Ta maad lairt was not fery maad, and if he was maad
he was not paad, and it was not to ta plame of him; he wass coot
always however."
"He was that, daddy."
"But it will pe something fery paad, and it will pe troubling her
speerit. When she'll pe take ta pipes, to pe amusing herself, and
will plow Till an crodh a' Dhonnachaidh (Turn the cows, Duncan),
out will pe come Cumhadh an fhir mhoir (The Lament of the Big Man).
All is not well, my son."
"Weel, dinna distress yersel', daddy. Lat come what wull come.
Foreseein' 's no forefen'in'. Ye ken yersel' 'at mony 's the time
the seer has broucht the thing on by tryin' to haud it aff."
"It will pe true, my son. Put it would aalways haf come."
"Nae doobt; sae ye jist come in wi' me, daddy, an' sit doon by the
ha' fire, an' I 'll come to ye as sune 's I've been to see 'at the
maister disna want me. But ye'll better come up wi' me to my room
first," he went on, "for the maister disna like to see me in onything
but the kilt."
"And why will he no pe in ta kilts aal as now?"
"I hae been ridin', ye ken, daddy, an' the trews fits the saiddle
better nor the kilts."
"She'll not pe knowing tat. Old Allister, your creat--her own
crandfather, was ta pest horseman ta worrlt efer saw, and he 'll
nefer pe hafing ta trews to his own lecks nor ta saddle to his
horse's pack.
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