WATTY AND MEG.
Keen the frosty winds were blawin’
Deep the sna’ had wreath’d the ploughs,
Watty, weary’t a’ day sawin’
Dauners down to Mungo Blue’s
Dryster Jeck was sitting cracky,
Wi’ Pate Tamson o’ the hill,
Come awa’ quo Johnny, Watty!
Haith we’s hae anither gill.
Watty glad t’ see Jock Jabos,
And sae mony neigh ours roun’,
Kicket trae his shoe the snaw ba’s,
Syne ayont the fire sat down.
Owre a broad wi’ bannocks heapet,
Cheese, and stoups. and glasses stood;
Some were roarin’ ithers sleepit
Ithers quietly chewt heir cude.
Jock was sellin’ Pare some tallow,
A the rest a racket hel,
A but watty, wha poor fallow,
Sat and smecket by himsel.
Mongo filled him up a toothfu,
Drank his health and Meg’s in ane:
Watty puffin’ out a mouthfu,
Pledg’d him wi’ a dreary grane.
What’s the matter, Watty wi’ you?
Troth your chafts are fa’ing in!
Something wrang—I’m wae to see you—
Gukesake! but ye’re desp’rate thin.
