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but auld Tammy Tailtrees was seeking me; my father wad a hain me to tak him, but my mither wadna let me, there was a debate about it, my guiddamewdy a sticket my mither wi' the grape, if my father hadna chanced to founder her wi' the beetle.
Jock. Hech, woman, I think your father was a fool for fashing wi' him, auld slavery duse, he wants naething of a cow but the cloots; your guid dame may tak him hersel', twa auld tottering stumps, the taen may saur the tither fu' weel.
Mag. Hech man! I wad a tain thee or ony body to hain them greed again, my father bled my guid-dame's nose, and my guid-dame brack my mither's thumb, the neighbours cam rinning in, but I had the luck to haud my father's hands till yince my guid dame plotted him wi' the broe that was to mak our brose.
Jock. Dear Maggy, I hae something to tell you, an ye wadna be angry at it.
Mag. O Johnny, there's my hand, I'se no be angry at it, be what it will.
