Page:Watty and May, or, The wife reclaimed.pdf/14

14 Across a burn, that ran wi’ ease, Down through a glen adorned wi’ trees. Now, ’twas a bonny summer day, And a’ the fields were clad and gay, They stopt, and drapt their tales and jokin’, Their horses lowing drouth to slocken. And greed some little time should pass, To let them rest, and eat some grass, As Donald and his comrade sat Upon the green, they resumed their chat. And Donald’s dog, before their feet, Lay stretched and panting wi’ the heat, And Donald’s sword, whilk he did carry Beneath his hodden-grey Bavary, The gentleman’s attention seized ; Wha begged a sight o’t, if he pleased, Whilk Donald drew an’ frankly gave him ; In confidence he’d not deceive him. The billy thanked him for the sight o’t, And praised the beauty, size, and weight o’t; Syne spiered at Donald, on his word, If maist he trusted—dog or sword ; Suppose the case, that ony pad, Should seek the money that he had. ‘ The sword,’ quo Donald, ‘I can weild, And should sic wretch, by road or field. E’er daur demand frae me a shillin’, I’d plung’t wi’ freedom in the villain. Yet ne’er the less for a’ my cracks o’t. I wouldna gie my dog for sax o’t.’ Wi’ that, the fallow, at a word, Chapt aff the dog’s head wi’ the sword, Syne pointed it to Donald’s heart, And swore he wi’ his cash should part, Or instantly, wi’ stabs and cuts, He’d pierce his heart and rip his guts. ‘ O ! O ! ’ say Donald, 'spare my life, For sake o’ my poor weans and wife. Ha’e there’s the cash but wi’ what shame And grief, must I face friends at hame ! They’ll not believe a word o’t either ! Lord help’s, I’m ruined a’thegither !’ ‘Stop,’ says the fellow ‘ cease your crying, Your friends will not suspect you lying;