"Ou, no mony," said Dandie, scratching his head, it's lying high and exposed--it may feed a hog, or aiblins [*Perhaps ] twa in a good year."
"And for this grazing, which may be worth about five shillings a year, you are willing to throw away a hundred pound or two?"
"Na, sir, it's no for the value of the grass," replied Dinmont; "it's for justice."
"My good friend," said Pleydell, "justice, like charity, should begin at home. Do you justice to your wife and family, and think no more about-the matter."
Dinmont still lingered, twisting his hat in his hand-" It's no for that, sir--but I would like ill to be bragged wi' him--he threeps [*Declares ] he'll bring a score o' witnesses and mair--and I'm sure there's as mony will swear for me as for him, folk that lived a' their days upon the Charlies-hope, and wadna like to see the land lose its right."
"Zounds, man, if it be a point of honour," said the lawyer, "why don't your landlords take it up?"
"I dinna ken, sir" (scratching his head again), "there's been nae election-dusts lately, and the lairds are unco neighbourly, and Jock and me canna get them to yoke thegither about it a' that we can say--but if ye thought we might keep up the rent--"
"No! no! that will never do," said Pleydell,--"confound you, why don't you take good cudgels and settle it?"