( 8 )
Mith. Dear maggy an what is that?
Mag, Deed mither a'm gaun to be married an the muck war out.
Mith. Dear Maggy, an wha is thou gaun to get? it's no auld bubly Tammy?
Mag. Na, na, he's a braw young man, an has mair gear than ilka body kens o', gueſs an I'll tell you; it's Johnny Bell, an his mither ſent him to the market juſt to court me.
Mit. Deed Maggy ye'll no be ill youket wi' him, he's a gay weel gaun fallow, right ſpruſh, amaiſt like an ill far'd gentleman.--Hey guidman! do ye hear that our Maggy is gaun to be married on ance the muck were out.
Father. Na, na, I'll no allow that until the peat's be cuſſen an hurl'd.
Mag. O father! it is dangerous to delay the like o' that; I like him an he likes me, it's beſt to ſtrike the iron while it is het.
Fath. An wha is ſhe gaun to get guidwife
Mith. An wha think ye guidman?
Fath. A what wat I herie, an ſhe pleaſe herſel am pleas'd already.
Mith. Indeed ſhe's gawn to get Johony Bell as cliver a little fallow, as in a the barronry where be bids.
Fath. A well, a well herie, ſhe is yours as well as mine, gie her to wha you pleaſe.
Mith. A well Maggy, I'ſe hae a' things ready, an I'll hae the married e'er this month be done.
Mag. Thanks to ye mither, mony a good turn ye done me, an this will be the beſt I think.
