_DAVID waits for a reply but gets none. LIZZIE fetches needlework
from the dresser drawer and sits above table. DAVID'S face and
voice take on a more thoughtful tone._)

DAVID (_musing_). Puir wee man! If he was in here you'd no' be
letting him greet his heart oot where onybody could hear him. Wud
ye?

LIZZIE (_calmly_). Mebbe I'd no'.

JOHN. Ye ken fine ye'd no', wumman.

LIZZIE. John, thread my needle an' dinna take feyther's part
against me.

JOHN (_surprised_). I'm no'.

LIZZIE. No, I ken ye're no meanin' to, but you men are that
thrang--

(_She is interrupted by a loud squall from_ DAVID, _which he
maintains, eyes shut, chair-arms gripped, and mouth open, for
nearly half a minute, before he cuts it off abruptly and looks at
the startled couple at the table._)

LIZZIE. Mercy, feyther, whit's wrang wi' ye?

DAVID (_collectedly_). There's naethin' wrang wi' me, Lizzie,
except that I'm wantin' to tell wee Alexander a bit story--

LIZZIE (_firmly but very kindly_). But ye're no' goin' to--

(_She breaks off in alarm as her father opens his mouth
preparatory to another yell, which however he postpones to speak
to_ JOHN.)

DAVID. Ye mind whit I was saying aboot the dispensation o'
Providence to help weans till they could try for theirselves,
John?

JOHN. Aye.

DAVID. Did it no' occur to ye then that there ought to be some
sort of dispensation to look after the auld yins who were past
it?

JOHN. No.

DAVID. Aweel--it didna occur to me at the time--(_and he lets off
another prolonged wail_).

LIZZIE (_going to him_). Shsh! Feyther! The neighbors will hear
ye!!!

DAVID (_desisting as before_). I ken fine; _I'm_ no' at the
back of the hoose. (_Shorter wail._)

LIZZIE (_almost in tears_). They'll be coming to ask.

DAVID. Let them. They'll no'ask _me_. (_Squall._)

LIZZIE. Feyther--ye're no'behaving well. John--

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