Page:Watty & Meg, or, The wife reformed (3).pdf/4

 For a wee I quietly knuckl’t,

But whan naething would prevail,

Up my claes and cash I buckled,

Bess, for ever fare-ye-weel.

Then her din grew less and less aye,

Haith I gart her change her tune,

Now a better wife than Bessy

Never stept in leather shoon.

Try this, Watty—when you see her

Raging like a roaring flood,

Swear that moment that you'll lea' her,

That's the way to keep her good.'

Laughing, sangs, and lasses' skirls,

Echoed now out-through the roof,

‘ Done! quo' Pate, and syne his erls

Nailed the Dryster's wauked loof.

In the thrang of stories telling,

Shaking hauns, and ither cheer.

Swith! a chap comes on the hallan,

‘ Mungo, is our Watty here?’

Maggy's weel kent tongue and hurry,

Darted through him like a knife,

Up the door flew—like a fury,

In came Watty's scawling wife.

‘ Nasty, gude-for-naething being!

O ye snuffy, drucken sow,

Bringing wife and weans to ruin,

Drinking here wi' sic a crew!

Devil nor your legs were broken,

Sic a life nae flesh endures,

Toiling like a slave to sloken

You, ye dyvor, and your whores.