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Quo’ Nanny the youngeſt. I’ve now heard you a’,
An’ dowie’s your doom o' the ſpinning o’t,
Gin ye, fan the cow ſlings, the diſh caſt awa’.
Ye may ſee whar ye'll lick up the winning o't.
But I ſee that but ſpinning I’ll never be bra’,
But gae by the name of a dilp or a da’,
Sae lack, whar ye like, I ſhall anee ſhake a fa’,
Afore I be dang wi' the ſpinning o’t,
For weel can I mind me, when black Willie Bell,
An’ Tibby there juſt at the winning o’t.
What blew up the bargain, ſhe kens weel herfell,
Was the want o’ the knack o’ the ſpinning o’t.
An’ now poor ’omen, for ought that I ken,
She never may get ſic an offer again,
But pine awa’ bit an' bit like Jenkins Hen,
An’ naithing to wyte but the ſpinning o’t.
But were it for naethiag, but juſt theſe alane,
I ſhall yet hae a bout o’ the ſpinning o’t,
They may caſt me for calling me black at the bane,
But nae ’cauſe I ſhun the beginning o’t.
But be that as it happens, I care not a ſtrae,
But nane o' the lads ſhall have it to ſay,
When they come to woo, ſhe kens naething ava’,
Nor has ony cann o’ the ſpinning o’t
In the days they ca'd yore, gin auld fouks had but won,
To a furcoat hough-ſide for the winning o’t.
Of coat raips well cut by the caſt of their bum,
They never ſought mair o’ the ſpinning o’t.
A pair o’ grey hoggers weel clinked benew,
Of nae other lit but the hue o’ the ewe.
With a pair of rough rullions to ſcuff thro’ the dew,
Was the fee they ſought at the beginning o’t.
But we maun bae linen, and that maun hae we,
An' how get we that but by ſpinning o’t?
How can we hae a face to ſeek a great fee,
Except ye can help at the winning o’t:
An’ we maun hae pearlins, an’ mabbies, an' cocks,
