Page:Old maid and widow, or, The widow the best wife.pdf/13

She closed the e’ening ilka Sunday,
In planning out the wark for Monday.
Kate had her spies o’er a’ the parish,
Wha gathered news, her heart to cherish;
An’ ilka tale of village scandal,
She took it by the crooked handle;
Her jaundiced e’e sought never mair
To mak’ a tether than a hair;
Reports, as facts were aye received,
An’ rumour’s slightest sound believed.
Keen, as a beagle snuffs the gale,
She scented out ilk wanton tale;
Her lug was lent to gossip fame,
Aye fond to stain a sakeless name;
Gleg as a gray-hound’s, were her een,
To mark what faux pas cou’d be seen:
Then, like new beer, in bottles pent,
The working scandal foamed for vent;
Till from her tongue it hissing, past,
A noisy, frothing, empty blast.
I’ve heard it said— when supper’s o’er,
Ill nature aft forgets to glowr;
An’ Love, although but seldom seen,
Will meet wi’ Man and Wife at e’en;
A’ pley’s are hushed at hour o’ beddin’,
An’ canker smoored aneath the plaiden;