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Rh

There is a woman come from Anderston, Whose neighbour, on pretence of some false debt, Has puin'd her good milch cow,—her only cow.

Is that a case to occupy my time? Let her go with it to the younger baillie.

I told her so, your honour, but she weeps, And says the younger baillie is so proud, She dare not speak to him.

Poor simpleton! Well then, I needs must see her.

Tut! here again! What is the matter now?

A servant all cross'd o'er wi' livery lace, As proud and grand as any trumpeter, Is straight from Blantyre come, and says, my Lord Would greatly be obliged, if that your honour Would put off hearing of that suit to-morrow, As he must go to Edinburgh.

Tell the messenger