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4 MINISTER. “ O ! my dear Margret, is this you; I'm glad to see you; how d’ye do ? How’s Tamos, my auld worthy frien’? How’s Jock, your son, an’ daughter, Jean ?”

MARGRET. “ They’re gaily, Sir, we’re a’ meat heal, Yet Tamie’s e’en but craz’d an’ frail; But here’s some butter, I present ye. Which, wi’ thir hen’s, I compliment ye.”

MINISTER. “ Howt, Margret ! this speaks t’ expence. But thanks ye’se get for recompence— Wi’ greatfu’ heart, I freely tell. Ye’re ever kind, an’ like yoursell.” MARGRET. “ Whisht, Sir! wi’ thanks; nae thanks ava Ye’re worthy mair; the gift’s but sma’; But this acknowledgment here from us, Means ye’re belov’d by me an' Tamos." MINISTER. “ Sic favours sure I ne'er expected, Yet blyth am I, I’m sae respected: