""Alexander Moldieward!" again cried the old "betheral," very loud, to some one on the top of the Dullarg Hill -- then in an ordinary voice, "come awa ', Saunders man, you and your mither, an' dinna keep them waitin '-- they're no chancy when they're keepit.""
""The Lord be thankit for that! for gin the minister gaed speerin ', what chance wad there be for the betheral?""
""Fash na yer heid, Saunders, aboot them," said the old betheral at the door; "it's me that's to be grave-digger, but ye shall howk them a 'the same in the mornin', an 'get the siller, for I'm far ower frail -- ye can hae them a' by afore nine o'clock, an 'the minister disna pu' up his bedroom blind till ten!""