cothie, man pay for his house an yard cothie, twenty marks, cothie. Saul stir chamberlain, cochie, an you will no tak twenty pend keep them to your fell cothie, well Henry, cothie, lick my thing and lay it to yours, an since it is sae, that it near be nae ither way nor it fond be an your desistable, lars pit black upo' white upo't, He taks out a lang thing that fouk uses to di fan' they gang about the way o' things, an scrapt upo' paper at the dissolments an' tanaments o' the taftens, an' bad pit to my name. Stir cothie, I'm no beuk learnt, well then cothie pit to your han to my Fushicad, before witlesses an I'll describe for you
The lass secing a' this, says I, the fint a fit I'll tak him, cushie, for he's a fool, being magvocate, and corraminous wi' the soup drink: An aways being (illegible text) cothie, Saul comer cothie, Conscience comer, cothie, I: I was magistravigant an' glastrious as other lads, I foud ken whether ye were a man or lad, an make you never work a turn after this deficient day gae your gates in a vengeableness, cushie. Sae mistris there was nae great skaith for my master gart her pay the haf o' the lawin, an' said fin you winna intend the marriage, he manna be the cost, for fatever has been batween you you've as meikle o him, as he has of you. But he could not thrive for he got a laird wi bairn and di't i the bearing o't. For women Mistris are fair things, whiles fan they tak it on: Your nain women disabuse me the last year because I wodna claw the Cow to gar her milk come down, an keep her frae flinging, they ca'd me frae heaven to hell, I was i' the mean time delvin i' thc ministers bastard, an' brcuk my warklome, an gean to seek the len of the beadles they ran before me an gart his wife cry, come in by Henry, an get the fashion o the house, Sae I gead in by thinkin she was gan' to gi' me cheese an bread, or something that woud na speak to me, but she ga' me sic a hurl I never gat the like o't fin the day Andrew fushicam's daughter a bangster queen met me in the dvak, an jemst me because me and my master John Gallows coost divats upo' Sunday thro' ignorance. I cou'd not displunge an sport as fouk will do in their daffin, but flang her down and misgrougled a' her apron by mirackligencc, she was sae angry that the rugget out a' my Fushica'd and made me bald, that I never have been like other fouk till this dcficient day, sae Mistress I ne'er drew up wi' anither till I came to my lord Fushica'd's house, wi' apples ayont Aberdeen far the bread water is that you'll no see a hill on the tither side o't, Sae as I'm i' the women's house ben comes lady Ann, abonny
