Page:Old maid and widow, or, The widow the best wife.pdf/13

Rh She closed the e’ening ilka Sunday,

In planning out the wark for Monday.

Kate had her spies o’er a’ the parish,

Wha gathered news, her heart to cherish;

An’ ilka tale of village scandal,

She took it by the crooked handle;

Her jaundiced e’e sought never mair

To mak’ a tether than a hair;

Reports, as facts were aye received,

An’ rumour’s slightest sound believed.

Keen, as a beagle snuffs the gale,

She scented out ilk wanton tale;

Her lug was lent to gossip fame,

Aye fond to stain a sakeless name;

Gleg as a gray-hound’s, were her een,

To mark what faux pas cou’d be seen:

Then, like new beer, in bottles pent,

The working scandal foamed for vent;

Till from her tongue it hissing, past,

A noisy, frothing, empty blast.

I’ve heard it said— when supper’s o’er,

Ill nature aft forgets to glowr;

An’ Love, although but seldom seen,

Will meet wi’ Man and Wife at e’en;

A’ pley’s are hushed at hour o’ beddin’,

An’ canker smoored aneath the plaiden;