Page:Humorist.pdf/21

 21 I’ve carried packs as big’s your meikle table; I’ve scarted pats, and sleepet in a stable: Sax pounds I wadna for my pack ance tea’en, And I could bauldly brag ’twas a’ mine ain.

Aye ! thae were days indeed, that gart me hope, Aeblins, thro’ time, to warsle up a shop ; And as a wife ay in my noddle ran, I kend my Kate wad grapple at me then. O Kate was past compare ! sic cheeks! sic een! Sic smiling looks ! were never, never seen. Dear, dear I lo’ed her, and whane’er we met, Pleaded to have the bridal-day but set: Slapped her pouches fu’ o’ preens and laces, And thought mysel’ weel paid wi’ twa-three kisses. Yet still she put it aff frae day to day, And aften kindly in my lug wad say, “ Ae half-year langer’s no nae unco stop, We’ll marry than, and syne set up a shop.’’

O Sir, but lasses Words are saft and fair ! They sooth our griefs, and banish ilka care. Wha wadna toil to please the lass he lo’es ? Alever true, minds this in a’ he does.