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tae speir at him: “Ar ye him at wis tae come? Or ar we tae bide on someane else?”

      “Gang your waas,” answert Jesus, “an tell John aa at ye hae heared an seen for yoursels—the blinnd winnin back their sicht an lameters traivlin, lippers cowrin their ill an deif fowk hearin, deid men comin back tae life an the Gospel brocht tae the puir. Happie him at snappersna because o me!” Sae they tuik the gate; an Jesus begoud speakin tae the thrang anent John.

      “Tell me,” qo he: “what wis it ye gaed out tae the muirs tae luik at? . . . A windlestrae waggin i the wind? . . . Na, ’tweill!

      “What wis it, than, ye gaed out tae see? . . . A man cled in silken braws? Siclike is tae seek in kíngs’ pailaces.

      “What for, than, gaed ye out? . . . Tae see a Prophet? Ay—an muckle mair nor a Prophet! This is him at Scriptur speaks o i the wurds:

       ‘Behaud, I send furth my messenger afore thy face,

       tae redd thy gate afore thee.’

      Atweill, I tell ye, the ne’er a ane o them aa at hes kythed on the yird hes been gryter nor John the Baptist; an yit the least i the Kíngdom o Heiven is gryter nor him.

      “Frae the days o John the Baptist till nou breingers hes been birzin intil the Kíngdom o Heiven an makkin it their ain bi force. For the haill o the Prophets an the Law up til John spak o it as a thing ey tae come; an, gin ye will tak it, he is the Elíjah tae come. Lat him at hes lugs in his heid hairken!

      “But what am I tae liken the fowk o thir days til? They ar like bairns sittin i the mercat-place an cryin tae their play-marrows:

      We hae played ye a spring,

      but ye wadna lilt:

      we hae cried ye a cronach,

      but ye wadna murn!

      First cam John, haudin aff mait an drink, an they say, ‘The man hes an ill spírit.’ Syne the Son o Man hes come, takkin his mait, an takkin his drap; an they say, ‘See at him, the poke-puddin, the drouth, the billie o tax-uplifters an siclike clamjamphray!’ But God’s wísdom is free’d o aa blame bi the outcome o its wark.”

      Syne he yokit on the touns whaur the maist feck o his míracles hed been wrocht, an challenged them, because they hedna repentit o their sins. “Wae’s me for ye, Chorazín!” qo he. “Wae’s me for ye, Bethsâida! Gin the míracles wrocht in ye hed been wrocht in Tyre an Sídon, langsinsyne wad they repentit o their sins in harn gouns an aiss. Ay, an I tell ye this: blacker s’ be your faa at the Day o Juidgement nor the faa o Tyre an Sídon!

      “An ye, Capernaüm—trew ye

      at ye will be raised til heiven?

       Na, doun ye s’ gang,

       doun tae the Laund o the Deid!

      For gin the míracles at hes been wrocht in ye hed been wrocht in Sodom, it wad hae been ey tae the fore. Ay, an I tell ye this: blacker s’ be your faa at the Day o Juidgement nor the faa o the Laund o Sodom!”

      AT THIS SAME time Jesus spak thir wurds forbye: “I cun thee thanks, Faither, Lord o Heiven an Yird, at thou hes hoddit thir things frae men o wit an lair, an loot the littlans ken them. Ay, Lord, I thank thee at sic wis thy will.

      “Aathing hes been lippent tae me bi my Faither, an nae-ane is faur ben wi the Son but the Faither, nor nae-ane is faur ben wi the Faither but the Son an sic as he is pleised tae mak acquent wi him. Come ye til me, aa ye at is sair forfochen an laident, an I will gíe ye easedom an rest! Tak my yoke upò ye, an lairn frae me; for I am douce an hummle o hairt, an wi me ye s’ finnd easedom an rest til your sauls. ⁴⁰For my yoke it gawsna the craig, an my birn it bousna the back.”

      12 AE SABBATH ABOUT that time Jesus wis traivlin throu the corns, whan his disciples begoud tae be yaup an stairtit puin the ickers an aitin them. The Pharisees saw them an said til him, “Luik ye there, your disciples is daein what it isna leisome tae dae on the Sabbath!”

      “Hae ye no read i your Bibles,” qo Jesus, “what Dauvit did aince whan him an them at wis wi him wis yaup—hou he gaed intil the Houss o God, an they aitit the Saucred Bannocks at it wisna leisome for him, or them at wis wi him, or for onie-ane, binna the príests, tae ait? Or hae ye no read i the Buiks o the Law hou the príests braks the Sabbath ilka ouk i the Temple, an nae-ane hes a faut tae them owre it? An there is something gryter nor the Temple here, at is there! Gin ye hed kent the meanin o the wurd, ‘I wad lour hae mercie nor saicrifíce’, ye wadna wytit sakeless men; for the Son o Man is maister o the Sabbath.”

      Syne he gaed his waas frae the fíelds an cam til the meetin-houss o the place, whaur he gaed in an faund a man wi a geizent airm i the congregâtion.

      “Is it leisome tae hail fowk on the Sabbath?” they speired at him, at they micht hae a faut tae chairge him wi.

      Jesus answert, “Is there onie man o ye aa at hes but ae sheep, an it faas intil a gote on the Sabbath, at winna grip hauds o it an set it on its fowr feet again? An hou muckle mair wurth is a bodie nor a sheep! Sae ye see, it is leisome tae dae guid on the Sabbath.” Syne he said tae the man, “Rax out your airm”; an the man raxed it out, an it wis richtit an made as guid as the tither ane.

      At that the Pharisees gaed out an colleagued wi ither hou they micht hae him pitten tae deith. Jesus lairnt o it, an depairtit frae that place. Monie fowk gaed efter him, an he hailed aa at wis síck, chairgin them stricklie no tae lat fowk ken about him. This wis at the wurd spokken bi Isaiah the Prophet micht be fufilled, whaur he says:

       ‘Behaud my Son, at I hae waled,

       my weill-beluvit, at my saul delytes in!

       I will pit my Spírit upò him,

       an he will proclaim the richt til the haithen.

       He winna cangle or rowt;

       his voice nane will hear i the streets.

       A brouzelt rash he winna brak,

       an a smuistin wíck he winna slocken,

       afore he hes brocht the cause o richt

       throu tae víctorie.

       In his name will the haithen

       set their howp.’

      AN NOU A man at wis pestit wi an ill spírit, an dumb an blinnd forbye, wis brocht til him; an he hailed him o his dumbness an blinnd ness baith. The fowk at wis round about wis aa fair by themsels wi winder an said, “Can he be the Son o Dauvit, na?”

      Whan the Pharisees gat wurd o that, they said, “It is bi Beëlzeboul, the Maister Fíend, at he casts out the ill spírits.”

      Jesus kent their thochts an said til them, “Ilka kíngdom at is sindert in twa, pairt again pairt, gangs tae wrack; an nae toun or houss-hauld at is sindert in twa, pairt again pairt, can staund. Gin it is Sautan at casts out Sautan, he maun be sindert in twa an at feid wi himsel: hou, than, can his kíngdom staund? An gin it is bi Beëlzeboul at I cast out the ill spírits, wha is your ain fowk behauden til for castin them out? ⁴¹Tak your wey o it, an it is them will pruive ye wrang! But gin it is bi the Spírit o God at I cast out the ill spírits, syne the Kíngdom o Heiven maun hae come til ye. Hou can onie-ane win intil a strang man’s houss an lift his gear, wiout he first binnds the strang man? Aince he hes bund him, he can spuilie his houss at his leisur.

      “Him at isna wi me is again me, an him at ingethersna wi me skails abreid. An sae I tell ye, ilka ither sin an blasphemie will be forgíen men, but blasphemie again the Spírit will no be forgíen. Gin a man speaks again the Son o Man, it will be forgíen him: but gin he speaks again the Halie Spírit, it winna be forgíen him, naither i this warld nor i the warld tae come.

      “Aither

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