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as clever a little fellow as in a' the barony whare he bides.
Fath. A-weel, a-weel, herie, she's yours as well as mine, gie her to wha you please.
Mith. A-weel Maggy, I'se hae all things ready, to hae thee married or a month.
Mag. Thanks to ye mither, mony a guid turn hae ye done me, and this will be the best.
Hame gaed Jocky to his mither erying.
Jock. Mither! mither I made it out, her mouth is sweeter than milk; my heart play'd a' whilkie whaltie whan I kissed her.
Mith. Fair fa' thee, my son, Johnny, thou's gotten the geat o't at last. And whan art thou gaun to be married?
Joek. Whan I like, mither; but get the masons the morn to big me my house, for I'll hae a' things in right good order
Mith. Thou's want for naething, my bairn, to get thee ready for marriage.
The wooing being over and the day being set, Jockey's mither killed the black boul horned yeal ewe, that lost her lamb thc last year, three hens and a gule-fitted eock; to prevent the ripples, 5 peeks of maut masked in the muekle kirn, a pint of treacle, to mak it thicker, and sweeter, and mamier for the mouth; 5 pints of whisky, wherein was garlic and spice, for raising the
