THE ANSWER.
What care I for your herring in sa't!
laddie I like to tell thee true;
I care nae a fig for your forpet o' malt;
sae ye needna come here that way to woo.
As little care I for your house is the muir,
een that my lad winna bribe me now,
Though fifty fouk could dance i' the floor,
foul fa' me gin that would bring me to.
Sae brag nae mair o' your buts and your bens,
laddie that's no the gate to woo,
Though ye had a hunder cocks an hens,
they ne'er wad gar me tak ye now.
As for your hen wi' the happity leg,
laddie ye're either daft or fou
O ye think that I can dine on ae egg?
'deed friend yo're making game o' me now.
Ye say ye've a pig will soon be a sow,
laddie I like the truth to tell:
When we brag o' a calf that will soon be a cow,
I'm flee'd ye’re but a calf yoursel.
An for your kebbuck upo' the shelf,
bark an' I’ll tell ye how to do;
You maun talk o' naething but love for love,
for that's the gate a young lass to woo.
For gin I could think ye liket me weel,
laddie l tell you truely now;
I wad leave my daddy and minny atweel,
and blythly the night gang aff wi’ you.
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
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