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Updated: June 9, 2025
O, our Scots nobles wer richt laith To weet their cork-heild schoone; Bot lang owre a' the play wer played Thair hats they swam aboone. O lang, lang, may their ladies sit, Wi their fans into their hand, Or eir they see Sir Patrick Spence Cum sailing to the land. O lang, lang, may the ladies stand, Wi their gold kaims in their hair, Waiting for their ain deir lords, For they'll see them na mair.
"The auld gude wife's wheel-hoordet nits Are round an' round divided; An' mony lads and lassies' fates Are there that night decided. Some kindle couthie side by side An' burn thegither trimly; Some start awa wi' saucy pride And jump out owre the chimlie."
I wad hae been up and awa lang syne gien it hadna been for them! 'And what wud hae been comin o' hiz wantin ye, Steenie? 'Ye wad be duin sae weel wantin me, 'at ye wud be aye wantin to be up and efter me! A body's feet's nae doobt usefu to hand a body steady, and ohn gane blawin aboot, but eh, they're unco cummarsum! But syne they're unco guid tu to hand a body ohn thoucht owre muckle o' himsel!
She was dressed in a duffel coat or pelisse, which I think country folk call a Joseph; but I followed her at a distance, through fields and owre stiles, till I saw her enter a sma' farm-house. There were some bits o' bairns, apparently hinds' bairns, sitting round a sort o' duck-dub near the stackyard. "'Wha lives there, dearies? says I to them, pointing wi' my finger to the farm-house.
"The drap milk that the cogs winna haud may stand i' the water-pitcher afore supper-time," she continued; "and Sandy may rin owre to Gairyburn, after he comes in, and stay a' nicht wi' his mither, and get the cog, and be back next morning in time to tak oot the kye." This plan seemed at least feasible; and the farther prosecution of it was left to Nelly.
Ye are your faither owre again, every one o' ye each one more simple than another. Will ye marry a taupie that has nae recommendation but a doll's face, and bring shame and sorrow to your door?
In a quarter of an hour she brought her back almost well, except for the pain in her head. "Where the hell hae ye been, Mag?" wheezed the old gaffer, addressing the woman with irritated authority. "Awa' an' boil yer can, auld belly-crawler," was the elegant response, as she bent to her work, taking as little notice of him as if he were a piece of coal. "Ye're awa' faur owre much," he returned.
I'll tell the sheyk it would misbecome your father's son to do sic a deed owre lichtly, and strive to gar him wait while I am in these parts to get your word, and nae doot it will be wiselike at the last.
But after him that's now awa began to tak death till himsel," she continued, lowering her voice to a confidential whisper, "when he made owre the tack to Sandy, he left me as a burden upon Gairyburn. Noo, the place is but sma, as ye ken, and there's but ae house on't, and, if he were to marry, I dinna ken how a'thing would answer."
I aye think there maun be something wrang wi' folk that's as pleasant as a' that owre sweet to be wholesome, like a frostit tattie! ... The maid's ca'ed Miss Mawson. She speaks even on. The wumman's a fair clatter-vengeance, an' I dinna ken the one-hauf she says. I think the puir thing's defeecient!"
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