7 An tae anither he saed, ‘An whut dae ye owe?’ ‘A hunnèr baags o wheat,’ saed he. Sae tha owerseer saed tae hïm, ‘Luk here, tak yer bïll an pit doon echtie baags!’
But whaniver that sarvint gaed oot, he cum on yin o hïs fella sarvints that owed hïm twarthie thoosan pun. He tuk houl o hïm bi tha throat an saed, ‘You pye me bak whut ye owe me!’
Tha maistèr o tha crookit owerseer haed tae gie credit tae hïm fer tha wye he haed o gettin ïn wi fowk. Fer tha fowk o thïs warl ir whiles mair lang-heidit ïn thair dailins than tha yins that hae saen tha licht.
He turnt tae tha fowk an toul thaim thïs parable: “Thair wus thïs man plantit a vineyaird an he set ït tae a wheen o tenant-fairmers tae rin, afore gaun awa fer a lang time tae anither kintrie.