Ye ken little what ye're busiest sayin'. It'll be
a glorifeed body that he'll rise wi'. It's sown in dishonour, and
raised in glory. Hoot! hoot! ye _are_ ignorant, man!"
Macwha got more nettled still at his tone of superiority.
"Wad it be a glorifeed timmer-leg he rase wi', gin he had been buried
wi' a timmer-leg?" asked he.
"His ain leg wad be buried some gait."
"Ow ay! nae doubt. An' it wad come happin' ower the Paceefic, or the
Atlantic, to jine its oreeginal stump--wad it no? But supposin' the man
had been born _wantin'_ a leg--eh, Thamas?"
"George! George!" said Thomas, with great solemnity, "luik ye efter yer
sowl, an' the Lord'ill luik after yer body, legs an' a'! Man, ye're no
convertit, an' hoo can ye unnerstan' the things o' the speerit? Aye
jeerin', an' jeerin'!"
"Weel! weel! Thamas," rejoined Macwha, mollified in perceiving that he
had not had altogether the worst in the tilt of words; "I wad only tak'
the leeberty o' thinkin' that, when He was aboot it, the Almighty micht
as weel mak' a new body a'thegither, as gang patchin' up the auld ane.
Sae I s' twa hame."
"Mind ye yer immortal pairt, George," said Thomas with a final thrust,
as he likewise rose to go home with him on the box of the hearse.
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