He wisely mounts his Highland shelty,
And took the road on helty skelty.
As he rode on and cracked his whup,
A gentleman came riding up,
Wha bade 'Good day,' wi friendly air,
And spiered 'if he'd been at the fair?'
When Donald, without vain parade,
Returned him thanks, and said 'he had'
And a' his business, tap and tail o't,
When at the fair, he tauld the hale o't,
Right crouse they grew wi' ane anither,
And mony stories tauld to ither,
Bout kings an' priests an' great commanders,
The wars iu Britain, France, and Flanders.
When mony mile's they'd rode in league,
They in a hollow reached a brig
Across a burn, that ran wi' ease
Down through a glen adorued wi' trees.
Now 'twas a bonnie summer's day,
When a', the fields were elothed and gay,
They stopped, and dropped there tales and jokin',
Their horses' lowing drouth to sloken,
And greed some little time to pass,
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