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 the Indulgence was as bad as Erastianism?"

"Heard ever ony body the like o' this," interrupted Cuddie, "we'll be driven out o' house and ha' again afore we ken where to turn oursels. Weel, mother, I hae just ae word mair—An' I hear ony mair o' your din—afore folk, that is, for I dinna mind your clavers mysel, they aye set me sleeping—but if I hear ony mair din afore folk, as I was saying, about Poundtexts and Rumbleberries, and doctrines and malignants, I'se e'en turn a single sodger mysel, or maybe a serjeant or a captain if ye plague me the mair, and let Rumbleberry and you gang to the de'il thegither. I ne'er gat ony gude by his doctrine, as ye ca't, but a gude fit o' the batts wi' sitting amang the wat moss-hags for four hours at a yoking, and the leddy cured me wi' some hickery-pickery, mair by token, an' she had kenn'd how I came by the disorder, she wadna hae been in sic a hurry to cure it."

Although groaning in spirit over the