on her plate, she says to my Lord, will ye let me dip my fowl arse, amang your sauce? Upon my word, and that I will not, said he, if is be as you tell'd me; hout my Lord, it's no my arse, it's but de hen's I mean; O but, said he, bride, it's the fashion to every one to eat off their own trencher; you may get more sauce, I can manage all mine myself; indeed, my Lord, I thought you liket me better than ony body; O but, said he, I love myself better than you bride; Deed my Lord, I think ye're the best body about the house, for your Lady's but a stinking pridefu' jade, she thinks that we sud mak the fish a' alike, be-go, my Lord, she thinks we sud mak the haddies a' like herrin, and that we can shape them as the hens do their eggs wi' deir arse. O bride, said he, you should not speak ill of my Lady; for she hears you very well: O deed my Lord, I had nae mind o' that, a well then, said he, drink to me, or them ye like best; then here's to you a' de gither, arse o'er head. Very well said, says my Lord that's good sense or something like it.
Dinner being over, my Lord desired the bride to dance; Indeed, my Lord, I canna dance ony, but I'll gar my wame wallop fornent yours, and then rin round about as fast as ye can; very well, said he, bride, that will just do, we shall neither kiss nor shake hands, but I'll bow to you, and ye'll beck to me, and so we'll have done.
Now, after dinner and dancing, my Lord exhorted the bride to be a good neighbour, and to gree well, wi' every body round about, I wat well my Lord, ye ken I did never cast out wi' nae body but lang Pate o' de Pans, an he was a' de wyte o't, it began wi' a hiertieing, and a jamffing me about Sandy, de black-stanes and de crab-holes, where de wean was gotten, and then it turn'd to a hub-bub and colly-shangy, an or e'er ye wad said kiss my arse, my
