Mith. And wha think ye gudeman?
Fath. A what wat I, here and she please hersel, I’m pleased already.
Mith. Indeed she’s gaun to get Johnny Bell, as clever a little fellow as in a’ the parony whare he bides.
Fath. A-weel, a-weel, herie, she’s yours as well as mine, gie her to wha you please.
Mith. A-weel Maggy, I’se hae all things ready, to hae thee married or a month.
Mag. Thanks to ye mither, mony a guid turn hae ye done me, and this will be the best.
Hame gaed Jocky to his mither crying.
Jock. Mither! mither I made it out, her mouth is sweeter than milk; my heart play’d a’ whilkie whaltie whan I kissed her.
Mith. Fair fa’ thee, my son, Johnny, thou’s gotten the geat o’t at last. And whan art thou gaun to be married?
Jock. Whan I like, mither; but get the masons the morn to big me my house, for I’ll hae a’ things in right good order.