Page:Jockey & Maggy's courtship, and unlucky marriage.pdf/15



Mith. Indeed he’s out in the yard powing kail runts.

Mar. A black end on him an his runts baith, for he’s ruin’d me an my bairn.

Mith. Ruin’d you! it canna be; he never did you ill, nor said you ill, be night nor be day, what gars you say that?

Mar. O woman! our Jenny is a’ rowing lick a pack o’ woo; indeed she’s wi’ quick bairn, and your John is the father o’t.

Mith. Our John the father o’t! had, there's enough said, lieing lown, I trow our John was ne’er guilty o’ sic a sinfu’ action. Daft woman, I trow it’ll be but wind, that hoves up the lassie’s wame; she’ll hae dunken some sour drink, raw sowens, or rotten milk, that mak’s her sae ill.

Mar. A war be to him an his actions baith, he’s the father o’t, fornicator dog it he is, he’s ruin’d me an my bairn; I bore her an brought her up honestly, till she came to you: Her father died and left me wi’ four o’ them, there wasna ane o’ them cou’d pit on anither’s claes, or take clouse off ither.

Mith. I bid you had your tongue an no even your bystarts to my bairns, for he’ll ne’er tak wit: He, poor silly lad, he was ne’er look to a lass, be’she’s [sic] to lay her down. Fy, Maggy, cry in o’ John, and let's ratify’t