The fair maid me came hame again. and wow but fhe was fain i She nimbly tripped o’er the field, and lightly o’er the plain : She threw the meal upon the floor cries, Mither bake a fcone ; For of a’ the Millers e’er I law, there’s nane like him in Drone.
With his, &c.
The auld wife, when the meal was done, went to the mill herfel, And quickly to the Miller fhe began her needs to tell. The Miller laid her o’er a fack and let the water on, And fyne he ground the auld wife’s batch within the mill o’ Drone.
With his, &c.
The auld wife fhe came hame again, as canty as a bee; Had fhe been jointed a’ via’ fprings, nae foupler oould fhe be. I’ve ground my corn at different mills, in country and in town,
