Page:Exploits of wise Willie and witty Eppie, the ale-wife, of Buckhaven (2).pdf/20



20                  and the fidler of Kinghorn were both bidden by                   Wise Willie, the bride's father; and if any more came to play unbidden, Willie swore they should sit unsair'd, for these twa sud get a' de siller dat was to be gi'en or win. That day the dinner and dorter-meat sat in Eppie's College, and the danc- ing stood in twa rings before the door and the first day, the dunting and dangling of their heels dang down the sea-dyke; some stumbled in, and some held by the stones; the fidler fell in o'er the lugs, and druckit' a' his fidle, then her strings ga'ed out o' order, and the tripes turn'd salt like pudding skins; so the piper had to do for a', and the fidler bad naething to do                  but sup kail and pick banes wi' the rest of them. Now, my Lord's cook was to order the kettle, but lang Pata o' the pans play'd a sad prat, by                  casting twa pound of candle among the kail, which made them so fat that some could not sup them, and the candle wicks came ay into their cutties, like souter's lingles in the dishes, but some wi' stronger somachs' stripped them through their teeth like rats' tails, and said, mony ane wad be blyth o' sic a string to tie up their bose in a pinch. My Lord and the gentry, Mess John and the Clerk, were all placed at the head of the table, opposite the bride, but would sup none of the candle kail. Wisc Willie and the bridegroom served the table, and cried, Sup, an a sorrow to ye, for I ne'er liked sour kail about my house. When the 'flesh came, the bride got a ram's rumple to pick: She taks it up                  and wags it at my Lord, saying, Ti-hie, my                   Lord, what an a piece is this? O, said my Lord, that's the tail piece, it belongs to you bride. It's                  no mine, I never had the like o't; it's a fish-tail,