WATTY AND MEG.
KEEN the frosty winds war blawin', Deep the snaw. had wreath'd the plo Watty, wearied a' day sawin', Daunert down to Mungo Blue's. Dryster Jock was sitting cracky Wi' Pate Tamson o' the hill, Come awa,' quo' Johnny, Watty, Haith we'se hae anither gill.' Watty, glad to see Jock Jabos, And sae mony neebours roun', Kicket frae his shoon the snaw ba's, Syne ayont the fire sat down. Ow a boord, wi' bannocks heapet, Cheese, an' stoups, an' glasses stood; Some war roarin, ithers sleepit, Ithers quietly chew'd 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, puſhin' out a mouthfu', Pledg'd him wi' a dreary grane. ' What's the matter, Watty, wi' you? Troth your chafts are fa'ing in;
