But Tugal M‘Tagger hersel’ mak’s a failure—
They’ll call her a bankrumpt, a trade she’ll not know.
They’ll called a great meeting, she’ll look very quate now,
She’ll fain win awa’, but they’ll tell her to wait now;
They’ll spoket a lang time, ’pout a great estate now:
She’ll thocht that they’ll thocht her the laird o’ Glendoo.
They’ll wrote a long while about a trust deeder,
She’ll no write a word, for hersel’ couldna read her,
They’ll sought compongzition, hoogh, hoogh, never heed her—
There’s no sic a word ’mang the hills o’ Glendoo.