Page:Watty and Meg, or, The wife reformed (2).pdf/5

5 Left the house, while Maggy fallow'd,

Flyting a' the road behin'.

Fowk frae every door cam lamping,

Maggy curst them ane an a',

Clappet wi' her hands, and stamping

Lost her bauchles i‘ the snaw.

Hame, at length, she turn'd the gavel,

Wi' a face as white's a clout,

Raging like a very deevil,

Kicking stools and chairs about.

"Ye'll sit wi' yours 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,

E'ed her whiles, but durstna speak,

Sat like patient Resignation,

Tremʻling by the ingle cheek.

Sad his wee drap brose he sippet,

Maggy's tongue gaed like a bell,

Quietly to his bed he slippet,

Sighing aften to himsel‘.

"Nane are free frae some vexation,

Ilk ane has his ills to dree;

But through a' the hale creation

Is a mortal vex'd like me!"

A' night lang he row't and gaunted,

Sleep or rest he cou'dna tak;

Maggy, aft wi' horror haunted,

Mum'ling, started at his back.