The daft loon wud hae bed me promise to merry him—that's a'!'
"Ey, she's none so daft, is yon lass," observed the blacksmith.
"I'm none so daft as daftly dealt with, mother," interrupted the blacksmith.
But there—I must be daft to be thinkin' o' moths at such a time.
What is he thinking of to stand there gazing at her downcast face as if he were daft?
But the duràk ...