📔 The Heart of Midlothian

"That's as muckle as till say, Bark, Bawtie, and be dune wi't!—I tell ye," raising her termagant voice, "I want my bairn! is na that braid Scots?"

I shall be on that lay nae mair

What think ye o' yon bonny hill yonder, lifting its brow to the moon? […] [M]aybe we will win there the night yet, God sain us, though our minny [a horse] here's rather driegh in the upgang.