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JAMIE.Hech, Sirs! sad news, L———d, I am done!My kail an' brose will now boil thin;My gude auld breeks, that I hae wornThese lang sax years; see how they're torn!I ettled week some o' thir days,To haen a suit o' gude new clai's;An' the first time I gaed to town,I was to buy my Meg a Gown,Wi' a new fashion'd gude black Straw,To gar her ay look trig an' braw:But Maggy she maun wear her Maunky,Wi' her auld hood, coft by her aunty,Her ragged coats and mutch to hide,When I took her to be my bride.The bunker Meg maun just turn out,An' rang't a' thro' to get a clout,My auld breeks an' my coat to mend,Till Providence some better send;But faith, I doubt, He'll ne'er do that,For weel He kens I'm i' the fau't.O curse ye, S———tt. you've ruin'd me!An' that I'll swear until I die.
JOHNNIE.Jamie, ye're right—I will declareHe's ruin'd you an' me, an' mair;He's sae curs d clever, that ye ken,That, L———d, he beats a' ither men.But wait a wee—some gude quiet day,By a' that's gude, I'll try a wayTo lift ane safe, an' cheat them a',An' get it snugly sent awa',———Ah! yonder comes my Rev'ren Willie,E'en riding on his ain black Fillie;Sae here nae langer I can stay,Now, Jamie, fare-ye-weel the day,
