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Mag. Thanks to ye mither, mony guid turn ye done me, an this will be the best.
Hame gaed Jockey to his Mither crying.
Jock. Mither! Mither! I made it out ; her mouth is sweeter nor milk ; my heart plays a' whilkie whaltie when I kiss her.
Mith. Fair fa' thee, my son Johnny, thou's gotten the geat o't at last ; an whan is thou gaun to be married?
Jock. Whan I like mither ; but get the masons the morn to big me my house, for I'll hae a' my things in right good order.
Mith. Thou's want for naething, my bairn, to get thee ready for marriage.
The wooing being o'er, an the day being set, Jockey's mither kill'd the black boul horn'd yeal Ewe, that lost her lamb the last year, three hens an a gule fitted cock, to precent the ripples, fives pecks o' maut masket in the muckle kirn, a pint o' treacle to make it thicker, and sweeter, an maumier for the mouth ; five pints o' whisky, wherein was garlic and spice, for raising o' the wind an the clearing o' their water. The friends an good neighbours went a' wi' John to the Kirk, where Maggy chanced to meet him, and was married by the Minister. The twa companies joined thegither, an came hame in a crowd ; and at every changehouse they chanced to pass by, Providence stopt their proceedings with full stoups, bottles and glasses, drinking their healths,
