Page:Watty & Meg, or, The wife reform'd.pdf/4

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Then her din grew leſs and leſs aye,
Haith I gart her change her tune:
Now a better wife than Beſſy,
Never ſtept in leather ſhoon.

Try this, Watty—Whan ye ſee her
Raging like a roaring flood,
Swear that moment that ye'll lea' her!
That's the way to keep hec gude."

Laughing, ſangs, and laſſes' ſkirls,
Echo'd now out-thro' the roof;
Done! quo' Pate, and ſyne his erls
Nail't the Dryſter's wauket loof.

I' the thrang o' ſtories telling,
Shakin hauns, and ither cheer,
Swith! a chap comes on the hallan,
Mungo is our Watty here?

Maggy’s weel-kent tongue and hurry,
Darted through him like a knife!
Up the door flew like a fury!
In came Watty’s ſcawlin wife.

Scarcely had ſhe croſs'd the thraſhold,
Till ſhe rais'd a clam'rous din,
Which made Watty ſhak an' trimble,
For to hear her thus begin:

Ye naſty, gude-for naething being!
O ye ſnuffy, drunken ſow!
Bringan wife an' weans to ruin,
Drinkin' here wi' ſic a crew!

Devil nor your legs were broken!
Sic a life nae fleſh endures—
Toilan like a ſlave, to flocken
You, you dyvour, and your whores!