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But soon we went by some mishap, so loggerheads together, and when my rife began to strap, why I began to leather.

My wife without her shoes, is hardly three feet seven, And I to all men's views, am full five feet eleven. So when to take her down some pegs, I drubb'd her neat and clever, She made bolt righ my legs, and ran away for ever.

When she was gone good lack, my hair like hogs-hair bristled, I thought she'd neer come back, so went to work and whistled. Then let her go I’ve got my stall, which may no robber rifle, Twould break my heart to lose my awl, to lose my wife‘s a trifle.

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Tibbie wi her Fifty Mark.

O Tibbie I ha'e seen the day, wadna been sae shy;