Yet would hae gi’en my ha’f year’s fee,
Had Maggy then been jesting me,
Had tartan purry, meal an’ bree,
Or buttr’y brose,
Been kilting up her petticoats
Aboon her hose.
But time that tries such praticks past,
Brought me out o’er the coals fu’ fast;
Poor Maggy took a sudden blast,
And o’er did tumble,