JOCKEY AND MAGGY.
key's mither kill’d the black boul horn’d yeal Ew,e that lost her lamb the last year, three hens an a guse fitted cock to prevent the ripples, five pecks o’ mant masket in the muckle kirn, a pint o’ treacle to mak 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 together ane came hame in a crowd, at every change-house they chanced to pass by, Providence stopt their proceedings, with fall stoups, bottles and glasses drinking their healths, wishing them much joy, ten girls and a boy; Jockey seeing so many wishing well to his health, coupt up what he gat for to augment his health and gar him live long, which afterwards coupt him up, and proved detrimental to the same.
So home they came to the dinner, where his mither presented to them a piping hot haggies, made of the criesh of the black boul horn'd Ewe, boil’d in the meikle pat, mixt with bear-meal, onions, spice, and mint; this haggies being supt warm the foaming swats and spice in the liquor, let John’s belly a bizzing like a working fat, and he playing het-fit to the fidler, was suddenly seized with a bocking and rebounding gave his dinner such a backward ca’, that he lost ⟨a’ but⟩ out the girt bits he seythed thro’ his teeth; his mither cried to spence him, and bed him with the bride; his breeks being fil’d, they washed both his hips, laid him in his bed, pale and ghostly was his face, and clos’d were baith his een, ah, cries his mither, a dismal day indeed, his bridal and his burial may be on ae day: some cuist water in his face, and jag’d him wi’ a needle, till he began to rouse himself up, and rap out broken words. Mither, mither, whar am I now? Whar are you now my bairn, says his mither, ye’re bedet, an I’ll bring the bride to you. Bedet, an is my bridal done else. Ay, said