3
Something's wrang, I'm wae to see you,
Gudesake but ye're desperate thin.
Ay, quo' Watty, things are alter'd,
But it's past redemption now;
Lord! I wish I had been halter'd,
When I married Maggy Hote.
I've been poor and vext and raggy,
Tried wi' troubles no that sma';
Them I bore, but marrying Maggy,
Laid the cap-stane o' them a'.
Night and day she's ever yelping
Wi' the weans she ne'er can gree;
When she's tir'd wi' perfect skelpin,
Then she flies like fire on me.
See you, Mungo, when she'll clash on,
Wi' her everlasting clack,
Whiles I've had my neive in passion
Lifted up to break her back.
O for gudesake keep frae cuffets;
Mungo shook his head, and said,
Weel I ken what sort o' life it's,
Ken ye, Watty, how I did?
After Bess and I were kippelt,
Soon she grew like ony bear,
Brak my shins, and when I tippelt
She harl't out my very hair,
For a wee I quietly knuckelt,
But whan naething wad prevail,
Up my claes and wash I buckelt;
Bess, for ever fare ye weel.
