Page:Whole proceedings of Jockey and Maggy (2).pdf/31

 see his powder'd pow, an I in sic an ill condition: get me a pint o' drams in the muckle bottle, an set it in the bole in the backside o' my bed.

Jock. A deed, mither, ye're in the right o't, for ye want to be weel warm'd within; to chase the caul wind an frosty water out at your backside.

Then awa' he rins to draff Meg's at the Kirktown, an brings a bottle in every hand, out wi' the cork, an gies her ane in o'er, she sets it to her gab an swattles up a mutchkin at a waught, which was like to wirry her till she fell a rifting an roaring like an auld blunderbush.

Mith. Hech hay, co' she, but that maks an alteration an wears awa' the wind

Wi' that her head fell to the cod an she fought awa, like a very saint or drunken sinner.

Jock. O! Maggy, Maggy, my mither's lost her breath, (she'll no live lang without it) I dout she be dead already, an hae body saw her but you an I oursels twa; an she had been sair o'er-seen it maksna, I'll no ha'd this a fair strae death indeed, fy Maggy cry in a' the neighbours to see her die, although she be dead. O an she wad but shake her fit, or wag her muckle tae, it wad ay be some satisfaction; but in came the neighbours in a hush, driving down ither in the door.

Jock. Come awa', sirs, for my mither's as dead as a mauk, good be thanket for't; but I'd rather it had a been the black mare, or the muckle rigget cow, for weel a wat I'll e'en miss her, for she was a bra' spinner o' tow; an cou'd a cardet to twa muckle wheels she had nae faut but ane and that was her tongue, but she'll speak nae mair, fy gets a deal or barn door to straught her on, for ay when she was cauld she was unco kankert an ill to cutch, but I'se hae her yerded or Wednesday teen.

Mag. Come, come, says Maggy, we maun hae her drest.

Jock. What does the fool mean? wad ye dress