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But here's some butter, I present ye,
Which wi' thir hens I compliment ye.
Min. Howt, Margret! this speaks t'expence
But thanks ye'se get for recompence:
Wi' gratefu' heart, I freely tell
Ye're ever kind an' like yoursel'
Mar. Whish, Sir! wi' thanks--nae thanks ava;
Ye're worthy mair—the gift's but sma';
But this acknowledgment from us,
Means ye're beloved by me and Tamos.
Min. Sic favours, sure, I ne'er expected;
Yet blytho am I, I'm sae respected;
Fling aff your cloak and follow me;
Come ben, an' rest, an' crack awee:
'Tis no sae aft ye come to see us;
Ye'll wait, and tak' your dinner wi' us-
It's ready, waiting on my comin';'
Como ben, then, Margret, honest woman.
Mar. Na, na, Sir! dinna speak o' that,
I'll tak' nae dinner weel I wat;
Wi' gentle manners (ye will grant it)
I've over yet been unaquantit.
Min. The manners that ye use at hame-
Use here, an' banish fear an' shame,
The company's but few, they're wholly
My wife, a preacher, Jess, and Polly:
Ye'se tak' your dinner or ye gang,
Just do like me, ye'll no gae wrang.
To dine at length she was advised;
Gade glowrin' ben like ane surprised;
Spread wide her gown, her head erecked,
Confus'd and awkwardly she becked:
While rev'rend Mess John, kind and fair
Conducted her unto a chair;
An' told them wi' a knacky sentene,
She was an intimato acqaintance.
Blate like, aroun' them a' she gaz'd;
But at the table was amaz'd.
