6 Na, but becas A hae toul yis these thïngs, yer hairts ïs fu o sorra.
Whan he wus daen prayin, he got ontae hïs feet an went bak tae hïs follaers. He fun thaim sleepin, aa wore oot wi sorra.
An he saed tae thaim, “Whut wur ye taakin aboot thair, alang tha róad?” The' cum tae a stap, lukkin doon ïn tha mooth.
“Dïnnae let yer hairts be sair annoyt. Pit yer trust ïn God, an lippen ïn me forbye.