“You fowk ir faithless an aisie led,” Jesus saed. “Hoo lang wull A be wi ye afore yis believe? Hoo lang dae A hae tae pit up wi ye? Brïng tha wee lad here tae me.”
An Jesus cured a quare lock o seeck fowk o thair monie ailments, an he driv oot a brave wheen o demons. But he wudnae let tha demons spake oot, fer the' kent wha he wus.
Forbye, demons cum oot o monie o thaim, cryin oot, “Ye ir [Christ,] tha Sinn o God!” An he wud chack thaim, oardèrin thaim no tae spake, fer the' kent that he wus tha Christ.
Fer ye see, Jesus haed bïd tha ïll spïrit tae lea hïm alane. Betimes ït haed made hïm brek awa frae hïs gairds an tha chains the' haed bun hïm up wi, an ït haed driv hïm oot ïntae tha wiles.
Jist as tha wee lad wus cumin, he faad doon tae tha grun fïttin, an Jesus gien tha wïckit spïrit a richt barjin, an hailt tha wee lad an gien hïm bak tae hïs faither.