JOHN. Aye?

LIZZIE (_helplessly_). Naething--feyther, stop it. They'll think
ye're clean daft.

DAVID (_ceasing to howl and speaking with gravity_). I ken it fine,
Lizzie; an' it's no easy for a man who has been respeckit an'
lookit up to a' his life to be thought daft at eighty-three; but
the most important thing in life is to get yer ain way. (_Resumes
wailing._)

LIZZIE (_puzzled, to_ JOHN). Whit's that?

JOHN. It's his philosophy that he was talking aboot.

DAVID (_firmly_). An' I'm gaein' to tell wee Alexander yon bit
story, tho' they think me daft for it.

LIZZIE. But it's no' for his ain guid, feyther. I've telt ye so,
but ye wudna listen.

DAVID. I wudna listen, wumman! It was you wudna listen to me when
I axed ye whit harm--(_Chuckles.--Checking himself_) No! I'm no
gaein' to hae that ower again. I've gied up arguing wi' women.
I'm juist gaein' tae greet loud an' sair till wee Alexander's
brought in here to hae his bit story; an' if the neighbors--(_Loud
squall._)

LIZZIE (_aside to_ JOHN). He's fair daft!