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 "Aweel, I kenn'd na muckle better what to do, sae I e'en ga'ed wi' her to an auld daft carline like hersel, and we gat some water-broo and bannocks, and mony a weary grace they said, and mony a psalm they sung, or they wad let me win to, for I was amaist famished wi' vexation. Aweel, they had me up in the grey o' the morning, and I behoved to whig awa' wi' them, reason or nane, to a great gathering o' their folk at the Miry-sikes, and there this chield, Gabriel Kettledrummle, was blasting awa' to them on the hill-side, about lifting up their testimony, nae doubt, and ganging down to the battle of Ramoth Gilead, or some sic place. Eh, Mr Henry! but the carle gae them a screed o' doctrine! Ye might hae heard him a mile down the wind—He routed like a cow in a fremd loaning.—Weel, thinks I, there's nae place in this country they ca' Roman Gilead—it will be some gate in the west moorlands; and or we win there I'll see to slip awa' wi this mother o' mine, for I winna rin my