Mit.] Dear Maggy, and wha’s thou gaun to get, ’tis no auld bubly Tammie?
Mag.] Na, na, he’s a braw young man, and has mair gear nor ilka body kens o’, guess and I’ll tell you, ’tis Johnny Bell, and his mither sent him to the market just to court me.
Mit.] Deed Maggy ye’ll no be illyoked with him he’s a gay well gaun fellow, right spruce, maist like an ill-far’d gentleman. Hey guidman, do ye hear that our Maggy is gawn to be married an the muck were out.
Father.] Na, na, I'll no allow that until the peats be cuslen and hurl’d.
Mag.] O Father! ’tis dangerous to delay the like o’ that, I like him an he likes me, ’tis best to strike the iron whan ’tis hot.
Fat.] An wha is she gaun to get guidwife?
Mit.] An wha think ye guidman?
Fat.] A what wat I herie, an she please hersel, am pleas’d already.
Mit.] Indeed she’s gawn to get Johnny Bell, as clever a little fellow as in a' the Barronry where he bides.
Fat.] A well, a well herie, she’s your’s as well as mine, gie her to wha ye please.
Mit.] A well Maggy, I’se hae a’ things ready, an I’ll hae thee married or this month be done.
Mag.] Thanks to ye Mither, mony guid turn ye done me, and this will be the best, I think.
(Hame goed Jockey to his Mither, crying.)
Jockey.] Mither! Mither! I made it ont, her mouth is sweeter nor milk, my heart plays a’ whilkie whaltie whan I kiss her.
Mit.] Fair fa’ thee my son Johnny, thou’s gotten the gest o’t at last, and whan is thou gaun to be married.
Jock.] Whan I like mither, but get the masons the morn to big me my house, for I’ll, bag a’ my things in right good order.
Mit.] Thou’s want for naething my bairn, but pusht forward as fist as ye can.
The wooing being o’er and the day being set, Joc-
