4
For a wee I quietly knuckl'd,
But, when naething would prevail,
Up my claise and cash I buckl'd—
Bess, for ever fare ye well!
Then her din grew less and less ay,
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
Ragin' like a roaring flood,
Swear that moment that ye'll lea' her
That's the way to keep her gude."
Laughing, sangs, and lasses' skirls,
Echo'd now out through the roof,
Done! quo Pate, and syne his arls
Nail'd the Dryster's wauket loof.
I' the thrang o' stories telling,
Shaking han's and jocking, queer,
Swith! a chap comes on the hallan,
"Mungo! is our Watty here?'
Maggy's weel-kent tongue and hurry
Dartet thro' him like a knife:
Up the door flew—like a fury
In came Witty's scaulin' wife.
"Nesty, gude-for-naething being!
O ye snuffy, drucken sow!
Bringin' wife an' weans to ruin,
Drinkin' here wi' sic a crew!
Devil nor your legs war broken?
