Indeed, mistress madam, If ye were a kintry goodwife, like mysel, I cou'd tell ye a' about it, but you that's gentles, I canna use freedom wi' ye, cause I hae na Latin. But waes me, we that's poor fouk is born to mony faelins an backwart faus, this lad is my son, an am his mither, he has had the foul fortune to get a bystart bairn, nae doubt but we hae a' been guilty o' as muckle, an ne'er a word about it, a what say ye madam?
Off goes the lass, saying, foul fa' the wife, for I was ne'er guilty o't.
Just. Well, goodwife, what is the reason but ye let your son give satisfaction to the kirk?
Mith. Deed, stir, he's no denying the bairn, but he'll no hae the black-stool.
Just. Ay, but I'll tell you, them that gets a bastart, gets the black-stool to the bargain, and as he is in my hands now, he must find caution that he will answer the session, an be subject to the law.
Mith. Ony thing ye like, stir, but that shamefu' stance, the black-stool; here's uncle Rabby, an auld Sandy the Soutor, will be caution that we's face the session on Sunday, the rad's wae enough he did it, but he canna help it now, the wean's born and by hand: Sae guidnight wi' your honour's ladyship 'tis the first time e'er I saw you.
On Sabbath after sermon the session met, John and his mother is called upon, he enters courageously, saying, Goodeen to you Master Minister, bellman, an elders a', my mither an me is baith here.
Mess John. Then let her in, come awa', goodwife, What's the reason you kept your son so long back from answering the session? you see it is the thing you are obliged to do at last.
Mit. Deed, stir, I think there needs na be nae mair wark about it, I think when he's gien the lazy hulk the mither o't, baith meal an groats to maintain't, ye needna fash him, he's a dutifu' father in-
B 3
