J. J. Bell

“ I'll see he disna dae ony hairm. 'Deed, I mind fine when I wis a wean, I aye wantit a gun or a pistol."
"I dinna think it wud be wice to gi'e yin to Macgreegor. Ye never ken whit he'll dae."
"Hoots, toots! Say the word, an' I'll rin an' buy him yin, Lizzie. Thon book wisna the thing to gi'e a wean ava'."
"Ye sudna say that, John. But, a' the same, I dinna think it wis a vera nice book. Nae doot Mistress Purdie meant weel," she added, grudgingly. "Weel, John, if ye'll promise no' to let him be reckless, I'll say nae mair aboot it. Awa' an' buy the pistol!" ”

“ She felt that, on the whole, her man was behaving really discreetly.
"But I'm no' heedin' aboot the book. Paw, an' wee Joseph likes readin'," said Macgregor. "An' it's a daft story onywey."
"Hoo can ye say that, Macgreegor, when ye've never read it?" his mother inquired.
"I've read some o' it. There's naebody gets kilt in it. I like stories about folk gettin' their heids cut off or stabbit through an' through wi' swords an' spears. An' there's nae wild beasts. ”

“ There's nae want o' speerit aboot this book," he interrupted with a dry laugh. "'Patient Peter: or, the Drunkard's Son!' That's a bonny like book to gi'e til a wean!"
"Whisht, man!" said Lizzie, checking a smile. "Ye ken fine whit I meant. An' ye're no' to let on to Macgreegor ye dinna like it. Him an' wee Jeannie'll be in the noo."
"Dis Macgreegor like it hissel'?"
"Weel, I daursay he wud ha'e liket somethin' else, John. He wantit to gi'e it till wee Joseph, the puir laddie that's been lyin' badly sic a lang while; but, of coorse, I wudna let him." ”