Page:Watty and May, or, The wife reclaimed.pdf/6

6 Hame, at length, she turned the gavel, Wi’ a face as white’s a clout, Raging like a very devil, Kicking stools and chairs about.

“ Ye’ll sit wi’ your limmers round you, Hang you, Sir ! I’ll be your death ; Little hauds my hands, confound you, But I’ll cleave you to the teeth. ”

Watty, wha, ’midst this oration, Eyed her whiles, but durstna speak, Sat like patient Resignation, Trembling by the ingle cheek.

Sad his wee drap brose he sippet, Maggy’s tongue gaed like a bell, QuiPtly to his bed he slippet, Sighing aften to himsel’.

“ Nane are free frae some vexation, Ilk ane has his ills to drce ; But through a’ the hale creation, Is a mortal vexed like me ? ”

A night lang he row’d and gaunted, Sleep or rest he couldna’ tak’, Maggy aft wi’ horror haunted, Mum’ling started at his back.

Soon as o’er the morning peepit, Up raise Watty, waefu’ chiel, Kist his weanics while they sleepit, Waukened Meg, and sought fareweel.

“Fareweel, Meg!—and, O! may Heaven, Keep ye aye within his care : Watty’s heart ye’ve lang been grievin’, Now he’ll never fash ye mair.

Happy cou’d I been beside you, Happy, baith at morn and c’en : A’ the ills did e’er betide you, Watty aye turned out your frien’.