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lown like, besides her crooket fit and bowed legs.
Joek. Ay, but mither, do ye mind sinee ye sent me out to gie her the parting kiss at the black hole of the peat-stack; she rave the button frae my breeks, and wad gar me do't; and eould flesh and blood refuse to do't; I'm sure mither, I eould ne'er get her wi' bairn wi' my breeks on.
Mith. Na, na, poor simple silly lad; the wean's no yours, ilka ane loups on o' anither, and ye'll get the wyte of a' the bytarts that are round about the eountry
Up gets Maggy wi' a roar, and rives her hair, and eries, O her baek! her belly! and baith her sides! The weed and gut gaes through my flesh like lang needles, nails, or elshin irons! Wae be to the day that e'er I saw his face. I had better married a tinkler, or followed the sodgers, as mony an honest man's dochter has done, and lived a better life than I do.
Up gets Jockey, and rins over the rigs for John Rodger's wife, auld Katty and howdy; but or he wan baek, she parted wi' Patriek through perfcet spite, and then lay twa-fauld o'er a stood in a swoon.
Joek. A-weel, a-weel, sirs, though my firstborn is e'en dead without seeing the light of the warld, ye's a' get bread and cheese to the blythemeat,
