4
Try this, Watty—When ye see her
Raging like a roaring flood,
Swear that moment that ye'll lea' her;
That's the way to keep her good.”
Laughing, sangs, and lasses' skirls,
Echoes now out through the roof:
"Done!" quo' Pate, and syne his erls,
Nail'd the Dryster's wauket loof.
In the thrang o’ stories telling,
Shaking hauns, and ither cheer,
Swith! a chap comes on the hallan,
"Mungo, is our Watty here?"
Maggy's weel kent tongue and hurry
Darted through him like a knife;
Up the door flog—like a fury
In came Watty's scalding wife.
"Nasty, gude-for-naething being!
O ye snuffy drucken sow!
Bringing wife and weans to ruin,
Drinking here wi’ sic a crew!
Deevil nor your legs were broken!
Sic a life nae flesh endures;
Toiling like a slave to slocken
You, ye dyvour, and your whores!
Rise, ye drucken beast o' Bethel!
Drink's your night and day's desire:
Rise, this precious hour! or, faith, I'll
Fling your whisky i‘ the fire"
Watty heard her tongue unhallow‘d,
Pay'd his groat wi' little din,
