Page:Watty & Meg, or, The wife reformed (1).pdf/2



KEEN the frosty winds were blawin',
 * Deep the sna' had wreath'd the ploughs,

Watty, weary'd a' day sawin',
 * Dauncrt down to Mungo Blue's.

Dryster Jock was sittin'cracky,
 * Wi' Pate Tamson o' the Hill,

"Come awa',"quo' Johnny, “Watty!
 * "Haith we'se ha'e anither gill."

Watty, glad to see Jock Jabos,
 * An' sae mony neibours roun',

Kicket frae his shoon the sna' ba's,
 * Syne ayont the fire sat down.

Owre a board, wi' bannocks heapet,
 * Cheese, an' stoups, an' glasses stood;

Some war roarin', ithers sleepet,
 * Ithers quietly chew'd their cud.

Jock was sellin' Pate some tallow,
 * A’ the rest a racket hell,

A' but Watty, wha, poor fellow,
 * Sat an' smocket by himsel'.

Mungo fill'd him up a toothfu',
 * Drank his health and Meg's in ane;

Watty, puſfin' out a mouthfu',
 * Pledg’d him wi' a dreary grane.