14 THE DOMINIE DEPOS'D.
She bann'd her faul, and then ſhe bleſt it, In the Kirk-books it would be liſted, An' thus the weary wife inſiſted, Our Lettergae Will fit whar he will not be piſht at By Dogs ſome day:
She wrung her hands, until they cracked, An' ſadly me ſhe ſham'd an' lacked- Ah man! the Prieſt, how will he tak it, Whan he hears tell, How Maggy's mitten ye hae glacket, Ye ken yourſell.
The Seſſion-Clark to play fic prankies, Ye'll ſtan', I fear upo' your ſhankies, An' may be flaver in the brankies; It cou'd na miſs, But lifting Maggy's callimankies, Wou'd turn to this.
A toothleſs Houdy, auld and tough, Says, Cummer, huſht, we hae aneugh, Thirſh mony ane has touch't the pleugh, Afh gude afh he, An' yetch gane backlench o'er the heugh, Shae let him be.
Heſh no, quoth the, tho' he'ſh be lear'd, That ye ken what, they hae crept near't, For you an' I haſh aft-times heard O' nine or ten, Wha thuſh the Clergy hath beſhmear'd Wi' their own Pen. The
