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her cockups blackcaps, gar‘d me say muckle of her; but she's my sonsy dawty for a that; weel-a wat she's a weel-natured lassie, and gin she turn an illnatured wife I canna tell.
Sawny. A well then I’ll venture on her as she is, for my mither’s pleased; an ye’re pleased, an I’m pleased; wode I am sure to get her, an the taylor has nae bridled her; or tane a trying trot o’ her.
Matty. But Sawny, man, I’ll tell you what we’ll do, I’ll hame and broach her the night on’t, an come ye the morn, we’ll mak it fu’ fast in a wee time, so thou’s get mair tocher than a Cramon, gammon to gammon; she has baith blankets and sheets, a covering, and twa cods o’ caff, a caff bed and bowster, and hear’st thou’ my laddie, I hae a bit auld hogger, and something in’t, thou’s get it when I die; but by my sooth it will be the last thing that I’ll part wi’, I kenna what I may need yet—it is an auld wife that kens her ain weird.
On this they paid their spout and parted; but when Sawny came out, he stoited and staggered like a sturdy stot: molash was chief commander, for Sawny thought every body had twa heads and four een, and more noses than they needed, while in the dark house he sometimes thought it was the morning of a new day: a hech, said he, when was I a night frae my mither before; she‘ll
