Page:Rudyard Kipling's verse - Inclusive Edition 1885-1918.djvu/92

74 An' Jock he sniggered, an' Jock he smiled,

An' ower the card-brim wunk:—

"I'm a' too fresh fra' the stirrup-peg,

"May be that I am drunk."

"There's whusky brewed in Galashiels

"An' L. L. L. forbye;

"But never liquor lit the lowe

"That keeks fra' oot your eye.

"There's a thrid o' hair on your dress-coat breast,

"Aboon the heart a wee?"

"Oh! that is fra' the lang-haired Skye

"That slobbers ower me."

"Oh! lang-haired Skyes are lovin' beasts,

"An' terrier dogs are fair,

"But never yet was terrier born,

"Wi' ell-lang gowden hair!

"There's a smirch o' pouther on your breast,

"Below the left lappel?"

"Oh! that is fra' my auld cigar,

"Whenas the stump-end fell."

"Mon Jock, ye smoke the Trichi coarse,

"For ye are short o' cash,

"An' best Havanas couldna leave

"Sae white an' pure an ash.

"This nicht ye stopped a story braid,

"An' stopped it wi' a curse.

"Last nicht ye told that tale yoursel'—

"An' capped it wi' a worse!