16
Jouk. These granted she demands nae mair,
To let us in her riches Share;
Nor shall our herds, as heretofore,
Rin aff wi' are apither's store,
Nor ding out ane anither's harns,
Whan they torgather 'mang the cairns,
But freely may drive up and down,
And fell in ilka market town
Whate'er belangs to her; which soon ye'll see,
If ye'll be wise, belang to me:
And when that happy day will come,
My honest Bawsy there's my thumb,
That while I live I'l ne'er beguile ye,
Ye's baith get gowd and be a bailey.
Bawsy. Faith Sock, I see but little skaith,
In breaking of a senseless aith,
That is impos'd by doited dads,
(To please their whims) on thoughtless lads,
My boonet! welcome to my bonnet!
And meikle good may ye mak on it,
Our Father's Will!—l'se mak' nae din,
Though Rosie should apply't behin':
But say, does billy Bristleken,
This, your design, to wak us men?
Ay that he does, but the stiff als
Bears a heart-hatred to the lass,
And rattles out a hantla stories,
Of blood and dirt and ancient glories,
Meaning foul feuds that us'd to be,
Between ours and her family;
Bans like a blockhead, that he'll ne'er
Twin wi' his bonnet for a'er gear:
