4 Then her din grew less and less ay, Haith I gart her change her tune : Now a better wife than Bessy Never stept in leather shoon. Try this, Watty.-Whan ye sec her Ragin like a roarin flood, Swear that moment that ye'll lea her; That's the way to keep lier gude.' Laughing, sangs, and Jasses' skirls, Echo'd now out thro' the roof, Done! quo' Pate, and syne his arls Nail'd the Dryster's wauket loof. I' the thrang o' stories telling, Shaking hands and joking queer, Swith a chap comes on the hallan, Mungo, is our Watty here?' Maggy's weel-kent tongue and hurry Dartet through him like a knife; Up the door flew-like a fury In cam Watty's scawlin wife. Nasty, gude-for-naething being! O ye snuffy, drucken sow! Bringin wiſe and weans to ruin, Drinkin here wi' sic a crew! Deil nor your twa legs war broken! Sic a life nae flesh endures Toilin like a slave to sloken You, ye dyvor! and your whores! Rise! ye drunken beast o' Bethel! Drink's your night and day's desire.
