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 9 Hameward, in haste, she hobbl’d, sweating ; Tell’d Tamos the disaster, greeting ; Wrong baith her hands, an' solemn sware. To dine wi’ gentle folk nae mair.

THE MONK AND THE MILLER’S WIFE

Now lend your lugs, ye benders fine, Wha ken the benefit of wine ; And you wha laughing, scud brown ale. Leave jinks a wee and hear a tale. An honest Miller dwall’d in Fife, That had a young and wanton Wife, Wha sometimes thol’d the parish Priest To mak her man a twa-horn’d beast: He paid right mony visits till her, And to keep in with Hab the Miller, He endeavour'd aft to make him happy, Whene’er he kend the ale was nappy. Such condeseention in a pastor, Knit Halbert’s love to him the faster; And by his converse, troth ’tis true. Hab learn’d to preach when he was fou.