Nainsel wad durk him for hur deeds,
But oh she fears de sodger.
Another law cam after that,
Me never saw the like, man:
They mak a lang read on the crand.
And ca’ him turnimspike, man.
And wow she pe a ponnie road,
Like Louden cora rigs, man;
Whar twa carts may gang on her.
And no break ithers legs, man.
They sharge a penny for ilka horse.
In troth they’ll be nae sheaper,
For nought but gaun upon the crund,
And they gie me a paper.
They tak the hors then be the head,
And there they mak them stand, man:
Me tell’d tem me had seen te day,
Tey had nae sic command, man.
But I’ll awa to te Highland hills,
Whar ne’er a ane shall turn her;
And no come near your turnimspike,
Unless it pe to purn her.
TWEEDSIDE.
When Maggy and I war acquaint,
I carried my noddle fu’ hie;
