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Sawny. And do ye think I hae naething ado but come here every i'her day hoiting after you, it'll no do! I maun be either aff or on wi' you, either tak me or tell me, for I ken of ither twa. and some of you I'll hae, for as I'm a sinner, my mither is gaum to be married too, an she can get ony bit man o' ony shape or trade.
Kate. Indeed, then, Saunders, since you're in such haste, ye maun e'en tak them that's readiest, for I'm not ready yet.
Sawny. Dear woman, when your mither and my mither's pleased, and I am willing to venture on ye, what a sorrow ails you?
Kate. Na, na, I'll think on't twa or three days; 'tis o'er lang a term to see without a thought.
Sawny. Wode I think ye're a camstrerie piece o' stuff; it's true enough what your mither said o' ye, that ye're no for a poor man.
Kate. And what mair said she o' me?
Sawny. Wode, she said ye could do naething but wash mugs, and scour gentleman's bonny things, but hissies that is bred amang gentle houses, minds me of my mither's cat; but ye're far costlier to keep, for the cat wastes neither sape nor water, but spits in her lufe and washes her ain face, and wheens o' you can do nae ither thing; and up he gets.
Kate. O Saunders but ye be short, can
