THE WONDERFUL WORKS OF OUR JOHN.
Part II.
Now though all the ceremonies of Jockey and Maggy’s wedding were ended, when they were fairly bedded before a wheen rattling unruly witnesses, who dang down the bed aboon them; the battle still encreased, and John’s works turned out to be very wonderful; for he made Janet, that was his mither’s lass the last year, grow like an Elshin shaft, and got his Maggy wi’ bairn forby.
The hamsheughs were very great until auld uncle Rabby came into redd them, and a sturdy auld fallow he was, stood stively wi’ a stiff rumple, and by strength of his arms rave them sindry, flingin the tane east and the tither west, until they stood a round about like as many breathless forfoughen cocks, and no ane durst steer anither for him, Jockey’s mither was driven o’re a kist, and brogget a her hips on a round heckle, up she gat and rinning to fell Maggy’s mither wi’ the ladle, swearing she was the mither of a’ the mischief that happened, uncle Rabby ran in between them, he having a great lang nose like a trumpet, she recklessly came o’er his lobster neb a drive wi’ the ladle until the blood sprang out and ran down his auld grey beard and hang like snuffy bubbles at it; O! then he gaed wood, and looked as waefu like, as he had been a tod lowrie, com’d frae worrying lambs, wi’ his bloody mouth. Wi’ that he gets an auld flail, and rives away the supple, then drives them a to the back o’ the door, but yet nane wan out; than wi’ chirten and chappen, down comes the clay hallen and the hen bauk with Rab Reid the fidler, who had crept up aside the hens for the preservation of his fiddle.
Ben comes the bride when she got on her coat, clappet Rabby’s shoulder and bad him spare their lives: for their is blood enough shed in ae night, quoth she, and that my beard can witness, quoth he. So they a’ came in obedience to uncle Rabby, for his supple made their pows baith saft and sair that night; but daft Maggy Simson sat by the fire and picket banes a’ the time o’ the battle: indeed quoth she, I think ye’re a’ fools but mysel; for I came here to get a guid supper, and other fouk has gotten their skin we’ll pait.
By this time up got John the bridegroom, that was Jockey before he was married, but could na get his breeks; yet wi’ a horse nail he tacket his sark tail between his legs, that nane might see what every body should hide, and rambling he cries settle ye, or I’ll gar my uncle settle ye, and saften ye’re heads wi’ my auld supple.
Poor Rab Reid the fidler took a sudden blast; some said he was maw-turn’d wi’ the fa’; for he bocked up a the barley and then gar’d the ale go like a rain bow frae him as brown as wort brose.
The hurly burly being ended, and naething but fair words and shaking o’ hands, which was a sure sign o’ an agreement, they began to cow their cuttet lugs, and wash their sairs, a but Jockey’s mither, who cries out a black end on a you and your wedding baith: for I hae gotten a hunder holes dung in my arse wi’ the heckle teeth.
Jockey answers, A e’en had you wi’ them than mither, ye will een be better sair’d.
Up gets uncle Rabby, and auld Sandy the sutor o’ Seggyhole, and put every thing in order; they prappet up the bed wi’ a rake and rippling kame, the bearers being broken, they made a solid foundation of peats, laid on the cauf bed and bowsters, where Jockey and Maggy was beddet the second time.