Mag. Indeed, Johnny, I like you better than ony lad I see, and I sall marry you an yence my father's muck were out: my mither downa wirk at the midden.
Jock. A Maggy, Maggy, I am fear'd ye beguile me, and then my mither will murder me for being so silly.
Mag. My joe Jockey, tell your mither to provide a' things for the bridal, and I sall marry you in three ouks after this, but ye maun gie in siller to the precentor, a groat and a drink to the bellman, and then the kirk wa's maun hear o't three Sundays or it come.
Jock. But Maggy, I'm no to mak a blin bargain wi' you nor nae body, I maun ken o' your things and ye sall ken o' mine.
Mag. I ken well what I was to get, an gin my mither like the bargain well, she'll mak it better; but an my father be angry at the match, I darna meet you to be married.
Jock. I see na how he can be angry; I wat well I'm a gay sturdy fellow, when I laid a bow and five pecks o' bear on the laird's Bawsy, and he's as bilshy a beast as is in a' the Baronry.
Mag. Ay but my mither is ay angry at ony body that evens themselves to me, an it binna them she likes, indeed she bade me tak ony body, if it was na auld tottering Tammy, for his beard is ay brown wi' sucking tobacco, and slavers a' the breast o' his fecket.
Jock. O Maggy! tak me an I'll tell you what I hae; first my father left me when he died, fifty merks twa seeks, twa pair o' sunks, the hens, an the gaun gear was to be divided between me and my mither, and if she died first, a' her gear was to come in amang mine, an if I died before her, a' my gear was to come back to her again. But since 'tis happened sae, she is to gie me brucky an the black mare, the ha'f o' the cogs, three spoons, four pair o' blankets an a' can'as, she is to big twa bey to her ain gavel to be a dwelling-house to me and my wife, an am to get the wee byre at the end of the raw, to haud my cow
