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WATTY AND MEG.
Keen the frosty winds war blawin'
Deep the sna' had wreath'd the ploughs,
Watty, wearied a' day sawin',
Daunert down to Mungo Blue's.
Dryster Jock was sitting cracky,
Wi' Pate Tamson of the Hill,
"Come awa'," quo' Johnny, "Watty,
Haith we'se ha'e anither jill"
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 board, wi' bannocks heapet,
Cheese an' stoups an' glasses stood;
Some war roarin, ithers sleepit,
Ithers quietly chewt their cude.
Jock was selling Pate some tallow,
A' the rest a racket hel',
A' but Watty, wha, poor fallow,
Sat and smoket by himsel'.
Mungo filled him up a toothfu',
Drank his health and Meg's in ane;
Watty, puffin' out a mouthfu',
Pledged him wi' a dreary grane.
Sawing timber
