4. Some war roaring, ithers sleepet, Ithers quietly chewt their cude. Joke was selling Pate some tallow, A’ the rest a racket hel', A' but Watty, wha, poor fellow, Sat and smoket by himsel', Mungo hil't him up a tooth-fu', Drank his health and Mag's in ane, Watty puffin out a mouthfu', Pledg't him wi' a dreary grane. What's the matter, Watty, wi' you? Trouth your chafts are fu’ing in Something's wrang--- I'm vext to see you- Gude sake! but ye're desp’rate thin! Aye, quo' Watty, things are alter't, But it's past redemption now, L-, I wish I had been halter'd When I marry'd Maggy How. I've been poor, and vext, and raggy, Try't wi' troubles no that sma', Then I bore---but marrying Maggy Laid the cap-stane o' them a'. Night and day she's ever yelpin', Wi' the weans she ne'er can gree;
