Page:Underwoods, Stevenson, 1887.djvu/145

Rh Syne, weel contentit wi' it a',

Pour in the speerits wi' a jaw!

I didnae drink, I didnae speak,—

I only snowkit up the reek.

I was sae pleased therein to paidle,

I sat an' plowtered wi' my ladle.

An' blithe was I, the morrow's morn,

To daunder through the stookit corn,

And after a' my strange mishanters,

Sit doun amang my ain dissenters.

An', man, it was a joy to me

The pu'pit an' the pews to see,

The pennies dirlin' in the plate,

The elders lookin' on in state;

An' 'mang the first, as it befell,

Wha should I see, sir, but yoursel'!

I was, and I will no deny it,

At the first gliff a hantle tryit