Page:Watty and Meg, or, The wife reformed (1).pdf/4

 Then her din grew less and less ay,

Faith I gart her change her tune;

Now a better wife than Bessy

Never stept in leather sheen.

Try this, Watty, when ye see her

Raging like a roaring flood,

Swear that moment that ye'll lea her,

That's the way to keep her gude.

Laughing, sangs, and lasses' skirls

Echoed now out thro‘ the roof, —

Done quo' Pate, and then his earls

Nail't the dryster's waakit loof.

I’ the thrang o' stories telling,

Shaking hands and ither cheer,

Swith! a chap comes on the challan,

Mungo, is our Watty here?

Maggy's weel kent tongue and harry

Darted through him like a knife,

Up the door flew like a fury,

In cam Watty's scaulding wife:

Nasty gude-for-naething being,

O ye snuffy drucken sow,

Bringing wife and weans to ruin,

Drinking here wi' sic a crew.

Deil nor your twa legs were broken,

Sic a life nae flesh endures,

Toiling night and day to slocken

You, ye dyvor and your whores.

Rise, ye drucken beast o' Bethel,

Drink's your night and day's desire;