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in the meikle pot, mixt with bear meal, onions, spice and mint. This haggies being supt warm, the foaming swats and spice in the liquor set John's belly a-bizzing like a working fat. His mither cried to spence him, and bed him with the bride. Pale and ghostly was his face and closed were baith his een. Ah! cries his mither, a dismal day indeed, his bridal and his burial may be in ae day. Some cuist water in his face, and jag'd him wi the needle, till he began to rouse himself up, then lisp out some broken words. Mither, mither! cried Jockey, war am I now? Whar are you now, my bairn, says his mither, ye are bedet, and I'll bring the bride to you. Beded, says Jockey, and is my bridal done else? Ay is't, said his mother, and here is the bride says Jockey, I'll no lie wi' an unco woman indeed, come to lie down beside ye, man. Na na, mither and it binna heeds and thraws, the way I lie wi' you mither. O fye, John, says his mither, dinna affront yoursel' and m,e bath, tak' her in o'er the bed ayont ye, and kiss her, and clap her, and daut her till ye fa' asleep. The bride fa's a-crying oot, O mither! mither! whar are ye, mither? Poor thing, Meg thou's ca'd thy hogs to a bonny market. A bonny market! says Jockey's mither; a shame fa' you and her baith he is worth of her though she were better nor what she is, or e'er will be,—His friends and her friends being a mixed multitude
