3
"What's the matter, Watty, wi' you?
Trouth your chaſts are fai'ng in!
Something's wrang—I'm vext to see you—
Gudesake! but ye're desp'rate thin!"
"Aye (quo' Watty) things are alter'd,
But its past redemption now,
O! I wish I had been halter'd
When I married Maggy Howe!
I've been poor, and vext, and raggy
Try'd wi' troubles that's no sma';
Them I bore—but marrying Maggy
Laid the cape-stane of them a'.
'Night and day she's ever yelpin',
Wi' the weans she ne'er can gree;
When she's tir'd wi' perfect skelpin',
Then she flecs like fire on me.
See ye, Mungol when she'll clash on
Wi' her everlasting clack,
While I've had any nieve, in passion,
Liftet up to break her back.
"O! for gudesake, keep frae cuffets,"
Mungo shook his head and said,
Weel, I ken what sort of life it's;
Ken ye, Watty, how I did?
After Bess and I war kippl'd,
Soon she grew like any bear,
Brak' my shins, and, when I tippled,
Harl'd out my very hair!
