Page:History of the Haverel wives, or, The folly of witless women displayed (3).pdf/9

Rh an wha ſhot her! A deed it was the de'il: Oh hoch, oh hoch, Shenet, we'll a' be kill'd whan the de'il has gotten a gun.

Mag.) A ſweet be wi'us woman, is nit an unco thing they dinna a' flee on the miniſter and worry him, whan he flytes and miſca's them fae, do ye think they hear him?

Jan.) A doubtleſs but they hear and ſees too, they're neither blind nor bleer-eyed, but ay whan ye ſpeak o'them, name the day, cry its Wanſday thro' a' the warld, an there's nae fear o' you.

Mag.) But what do ye think o' our miniſter, is he a good man think ye?

Jan.) Indeed I think he's a gay gabby body, but he has twa fauts, and his wife has three, he's unko greedy o' filler, an he's ay preaching down pride and up charity, an yet he's that fou o'pride himſel, that he has gotten a glaſs window on every ſide o' his noſe, and his een is as clear as twa clocks to luck to, he has twa giglet gilliégawkies o' dochters, comes into the kirk wi' their coblete-how mutches frizel'd up as braid's their hips, an clear things like ſtarns about their necks, and at every lug, a walloping white thing hanging like a ſnotter at a bubly wean's noſe, ſyne about their necks, a bit thin claith like a mouſe web, an their twa bits o' paps playing ay niddity nod, ſhining thro' it like twa yearning-bags; ſhame fa' them and their fligmageries baith, for I get nae good o' the preaching looking at them; and ſyne a' the