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With his hat in his hand he made a great phrase,
Keep on your hat farmer, don’t let it fa’
For it sets not the peacock to bow to the craw.
It’s hold your tongue Sawney and do not taunt me,
For I have heard of you since last you saw me,
My daughter’s not worthy of what you have don,
Nor I of the honour of you as my son.
Now he has held his bridle-reins till he came down,
And then he convey’d them to a fine room,
With the finest of spirits they drank a fine toss.
And the son and the father drink both in one glass.
FINIS.
A. IMLAY, Printer,
Aberdeen,
———
1801.
