Hame gaed Maggy and telled her Mither.
Mag. O mither! I hae something to tell ye, but ye maunna tell my father.
Mith. Dear Maggy and what is that?
Mag. Deed, Mither, I’m gaun to be married an the muck were out.
Mith. Dear, Maggy, and wha’st thou gaun to get, ’tis no auld bubly Tammie?
Mag. Na, na, he’s a braw young man, and I’ll tell you, ’tis Johnny Bell; and his mither sent him to the market just to court me ance errand.
Mith. Deed, Maggy, ye’ll no be ill yoked wi’ him, he’s a gay well gaun fellow, right spruce, maist like an ill-faured gentleman. Hey gudeman, do you hear that our Maggy is gaun to be married an the muck were a’ ance out.
Fath. Na, na, I’ll no allow that until the peats be custen and hurled.
Mag. O father! ’tis dangerous to delay the like of that, I like him and he likes me; ’tis best to strike the iron when ’tis het.
Fath. And wha’s she gaun to get, gudewife?