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Joukum. Theſe granted, ſhe demands nae mair To let us in her riches ſkair; Nor ſhall our herds, as heretofore, Rin aff with ane anither's ſtore, Nor ding out ane anither's harns, When they forgather 'mang the kairns ; But freely may drive up and down, And fell in ilka market town Belongs to her,---which ſoon you'll ſee, If ye'll be wiſe, belang to me: And, when that happy day ſhall come, My honeſt Bawfy, there's my thumb, That while I breathe I'll ne'er beguile ye, Ye'ſe baith get gowd, and be a bailey. Bawſy. Faith Jouk, I ſee but little ſkaith, In breaking of a ſenſeleſs aith, That is impos'd by doited dads, (To pleaſe their whims) on thoughtleſs lads, My Bonnet! welcome to my Bonnet! And meikle good may ye mak on it. Our Father's Will l'ſe mak nae din, Tho' Roſie ſhould apply't behin: But ſay, does Billy Briſtle ken, This your deſign to make us men? Joukum. Ay, that he does, but the ſtiff aſs Bears a heart-hatred to the laſs, And rattles out a hantla ſtories, Of blood and dirt and ancient glories, Meaning foul feuds that us'd to be, Between ours and her family; Bans like a blockhead, that he'll ne'er Twin with his Bonnet for a'er Gear; But