I’m gaun ower the muir to woo’,
Carlin, is your daughter ready.
Now poor Sawny, although he sang, he was as pale as a ghost from the grave; his face was whitely white, like a weel bleached dishclout, and he looked as if he had been eaten and spued again; but at length he came to the bride’s door, and in he goes with a brattle, crying, how’s all here the day? and what’s comed of thy mither lassie? O Saunders, quo the bride she’s awa to the town: what came of ye yesterday, she waited on you the whole day, ye gart her lose a day’s trade lad, and she is awa this morning cursing like a heathen, and swearing Be-go that ye hae gien her the begunk.
Sawny. A dole woman, I took a sudden blast in the hame gaun and was never sae near dead in my life.
And wha think you was in company wi Kate the bride, but the wee button of a tailor, who sat and sewed on a table, cocking like a t—d on a trencher; but when he kent wha was come, he leaped down on the floor, coost a dash of pride like a little bit prince, bobbet about, and so out he goes, with the tear in his eye, and his tail between his feet, like a half worried dog.
Sawny. Now, Katie, do ye ken what I’m comed about?
Kate. O yes, my mither tell’d me: but I’m no ready yet, I hae twa gowns to spin and things to make.
Sawny. Hute, things to make, ye hae as mony things as ye’ll need, woman; canna ye spin gowns in your ain house wi me, as weel as here, wi an auld girning mither?
Kate. But dear Saunders, ye maun gie a body time to think on’t—’twad be ill-far’d to rush the gither just at the first.
Sawny. And do ye think I hae naething ado but come here every ither day hoiting after you, it will no do! I maun be either aff or on wi’ you, either tak me or tell me, for I ken of ither twa, and some of you I’ll hae, for as I’m a sinner, my mither is gaun to be married too, an she can get ony bit man of ony shape or trade.