I must see what I can do for your head.

Poor boy!' 'Eh, mem! but ye are kin'! Gin ye speik like that ye'll gar me greit.
Naebody ever spak' to me like that afore.

Maybe ye kent my mamma.

Ye're sae like her.' This word mamma was the only remnant of her that lingered in his speech.
Had she lived he would have spoken very differently.

They were now walking towards the house.
'No, I did not know your mamma.