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DUGALD M'TAGGART.
Would you'll know me my name, 'od she's Dugald M'Taggart,
She'll brought hersel down frae the hill o' Lochaber,
To learn her nae sell to be a grand haberdabber,
Or a braw linen drabber, the tane or the twa.
When she'll come to the laigh kintra 'od she'll look unco shy like,
For she was na weel acquant ye see wi the laigs kintra dialect,
Hoo hoo, never heed, 'od she'd plenty o' gaelic,
There's no ane had mair on the braes ⟨o'⟩ Glendoo.
Then she'll tak a big shop and ⟨she'll⟩ turn a great dealer,
She'll get the lang trust, and they'll ⟨no⟩ seek nae bailure,
But Dugald M'Taggart hersell ⟨maks a⟩ failure,
