"Och, ye willnae gie onie guid deep insechts wi' a glaikit birdie like a chookie. Whit ye're needin' is a clever birrrdie like a craw ur corbie." He takes a mischievous sidelong glance at Jamilee and her companion. "Bawkies – bats, Ah mean – ur braw fer' readin' th' banes an' aw. Ye hae th' wee leaithery wingies like strips ay parchment, ye ken."
Gildrim hunches forward over the table.
"Yoo're aw crowdin' aroond, confusin' matters. Th' banes willnae ken whose story tae tell. Noo, lit me see, anyhaw. Aye, th' ploogh aw th' harrow, as it's also knoon, lang borin' days aw waitin'; an' haur, th' keys, success in th' future. Th' ladder! Prospicious! Advancement an' attainment, again. An th' banes, weel, nae matter whit, banes ar ur misfortune, o’ercome wi’ coorage. Ye git a lot ay tha' wi' thes method. Oan ev'ry gang, Ah'd say. An' lest but nae leest, th' three wee bairns - eejits 'at hink whin a dwairrrf chokes oan his scran, he's gonnae teel yer fortune!"
Gildrim gurgles deep in his throat.