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being supt warm, the foaming swats and spice in the liquor set John's belly a-bizzing like a working vat. 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 broken words. Mither, mither! cries Jockey, whar am I now? Whar are you now, my bairn, says his mither, ye are beded, and I'll bring the bride to you. Beded, says Jockey, and is my bridal done else? Ay is't, said his mither, and here is the bride come to lie down beside ye, man. Na, na, mither, says Jockey I'll no lie wi' an unco woman indeed, an it binna heeds an thraws, the way I lie wi' you mither. O fye, John, says his mither, dinna affront yoursel' and me baith, tak' her in o'er the bed ayont ye, and kiss her, and clap her, and daut her till ye fa asleep. The brides fa's a-cry-
