J. J. Bell

“ Lizzie, did ye hear whit Macgreegor wis saying?"
"Eh?" said Lizzie, who had been delightedly occupied in examining the details of the family group and pointing them out to wee Jeannie.
"Macgreegor's no' pleased at his bunnet no' ha'ein' a rid toorie," said John. "Ye see, I furgot to tell the man to pent it rid."
"It's jist as weel, John, fur it wud be a daft-like thing to ha'e a rid toorie in a photygraph." ”

“ Paw said it wud be rid!"
The unintentional reproach rendered John dumb with misery.
"Ye best gang oot an' play fur a wee," said Lizzie.
"I'm no' wantin' to gang oot," replied her son, sulkily.
"Ye'll jist dae whit I bid ye, Macgreegor. Wee Jeannie's gaun to ha'e a nap, for she wis restless last nicht, an' she wudna sleep i' the forenune. Sae aff ye gang, ma mannie, an' ye'll get carvies to yer tea. But dinna gang faur, mind."
"Maybe Macgreegor's no' wantin' to gang ootbye," said John, with an effort.
"That wud be somethin' new. Awa' wi' ye, Macgreegor, an' play wi' Wullie Thomson. ”

“ So John opened the packet, which contained six very highly polished cabinets, and, after a moment's inspection, burst into a great guffaw.
"Man, ye're jist a big wean!" said his wife, a little impatiently. "Let me see yin o' them." ”