WATTY and MEG.
KEEN the froſty winds war blawin',
Deep the ſra' had wreath' the ploughs,
Watty weary't a' day ſawin',
Daunert down to Mungo Blue's.
Dryſter-Jock was ſitting cracky
Wi' Pate Tamſon o' the Hill,
“Come awa'," quo' Johny, " Watty!
Haith we'ſe ha'e anither gill."
Watty, glad to ſee Jock Jabos,
And ſae mony neighbours roun',
Kicket frae his ſhoon the ſna' ba's,
Syne ayont the fire ſat down.
Owre a broad, wi' baunocks heapet,
Cheeſe and ſtoups, and glaſſes ſtood;
Some war' roarin', ithers ſleepit,
Ithers quietly chewt their cude.
Jock was ſellin' Pate ſome tallow,
A' the reſt a racket hel',
A' but Watty, wha, poor fallow,
Sat and ſmoket by himſel'.
Mungo fill'd him up a toothfu',
Drank his health and Meg's in ane :
Watty, puffin out a mouthfu',
Pledg'd him wi' a dreary grane.
