Out goes John, and the bride and her twa sisters goes to the window within to hear the diversion, and what he would say; now says John, Girzy my dear, my braw pretty woman, an ye be in earnest tell me, for by my suthe I’m no scorning.
Girzy. Indeed John I’m very willing to tak you, but ye need na tell every body about it.
John. Then gi’ me a kiss on that? He shutes his head in at the window, making a lang neck to win down to her, and she stood on a little stool to win up to him, O cries he, an ye were good flesh I could eat you a’ I like you sae well, it’s a pity there is sic a hard wa’ a ’tween us, I’se tell my mither sae bonny as ye’re: O gi’ me anither kiss yet an then I’ll go; one of her sisters standing by in a dark corner, get’s ha’d of a cow’s head which wanted a’ the skin but about the mouth, and shutes it towards his mouth, which he kiss’d in the dark, O cry’d he, but your mouth be cauld since I kiss’d ye last, and I think ye hae a beard, I saw nae that afore, or is’t wi’ spinning tow that maks your mouth sae rough at e’en?
Hame he comes, and tells his mither the speed and properties of the marriage; a’ things was got ready, and next week sleeky Willy the weaver and him came to gree the marriage and stay a’ night wi’ the bride, and teach John gude manners, for whan John was hungry he minded his meat more than his gude behaviour, and as he never was fu’ till the dish was tume, Willy the weaver was to tramp on his fit when he thought he had supped enough; so all things being agreed upon short and easy terms and the wedding day sett, they were to be three times cry’d on Sunday and quietly married on Munonday, neither piper nor fidler to be employ’d, but sweith awa’ hame frae the minister, and into the bed amang the blankets, ha, ha, cries John, that’s the best o’t a’.
Now every thing being concluded and proposed, the supper was brought, a large fat haggies, the very smell would done a hungry body gude, but John had only got twa or three soups until are of the butcher’s meikle dogs tramped on John’s fit, which he took to be the weaver, and then he would sip no more; after supper they went to bed, John and the weaver lay together, and then he abused the weaver for tramping sae soon which he denied; but O, said John, there’s a hantle o’t left, and I saw where it was set, they’re a’ sleeping, I’ll go rise and tak a soup o’t yet, ay een do sae said Sleeky Willy, and bring a soup to me too; away then John goes to the amry and lays to the haggies, till his ain haggies cou’d had nae mair, then brings the rest to Sleeky Willy, but instead of going to the bed whare he was, goes to the bed whare the bride and her twa sisters lay, they being fast asleep, speaks slowly, will ye tak it, will ye tak it, but they making no answers, he turns up the blankets to put a soup into Willy’s mouth, but instead of doing so, he puts a great spoonful close into one of their backsides, Sleeky Willy hears all that past, comes out o’ the bed, and sups out the remainders, and sets up the dish whare it was, leaves the amry door open to let the cats get the blame of supping the haggies, and awa’ they goes to bed, but poor John cou’d get nae sleep for drouth, up he gets in search of the water can, and finding an empty pitcher, puts in his hand to find if there was any water in it, but finding none, he closed his hand when it was within the pitcher, and then could not get it out, goes to the bed and tells Sleeky Willy what had happened him, who advised him to open the door and go out to a knocking-stane that stood before the door, and break it there to get out his hand, and not to mak a noise in the house, so out he goes, but the bride’s sister who had gotten the great spoonful of the haggies laid to her backside was out before him, rubbing the nastiness (as she took it to be) off the tail of her sark, and she being in a louting posture, he took her for the knocking-stane, and comes o’er her hurdies with the pitcher, till it flew in pieces about her, then off she runs wi’ the fright, round a turf stack and into the house before him; John comes in trembling to the bed again wi’ the fright, praying to preserve him, for sic a knocking stane he never saw, for it ran clean awa’ when he brake the pigg upon it.
Now John was furnished in a house by his Father-in-law, the bed, loom, heddles, treadles, thrums, reeds and pirn-wheel was a’ brought and set up, before the marriage, which was kept as a profound secret; so that John got the first night of his ain wife, and his ain house a’ at ae time: So on the next morning after the marriage, John and his wife made up some articles, how they were to work, and keep house, John was to keep the house in meat, meal, fire, and water; Girzy was to mak the meat and keep the house in clothes, the Father-in-law to pay their rent for three years, they were to hae no servants, until they had children, and the first child was to be a John after its ain Daddy, get it wha will, if a boy, and if a girl, Girzy after its ain Minny, as he said, wha had wrought best for’t.[170]
I. Then she ordered John to rise and begin his work, by putting on a fire, and take the twa new piggs and gang to the well, no sooner had John opened the door, and gone out with a pigg in every hand, than a’ the boys and girls being gathered in a croud to see him, gave a loud huzza, and clapping their hands at him, poor John not knowing what it meant, thought it was fine sport, began to clap his hands too, and not minding the two piggs, clashes the tane against the tither, till baith went in pieces, and that was a chearful huzza, to baith young and auld that was looking at him. Girzel the wife draws him into the house, and to him she flies with the wicked wife’s wapons, her Tongue and Tangs, made his ribbs to crack, saying, They tell’d me ye was daft, but I’ll ding the daffing out o’ ye, I’ll begin wi’ ye as I’m amind to end wi’ ye; poor John sat crying and clawing his lugs. Ha, ha, said he, its nae bairns play to be married, I find that already; his Mither-in-law came in and made up peace, went to a cooper, and got them a big wooden stoup to carry in their water.
II. Next morning John was sent to the flesh-market an errand to his Father-in-law, who gave him a piece of flesh to carry home, and as he was coming out of the market, he saw six or seven of the fleshers-dogs fall on and worry at a poor country colley dog, Justice, justice, cries John to the dogs, ye’re but a wheen unmannerly raskel’s, that fa’s a on ae poor beast, heth ye sude a’ be put in the toubooth, and tane to the bailies, and hang’d for the like o’ that, it’s perfect murder, and in he runs amongst the dogs, and be hang’d to you a’ the-gither, What is the quarrel? What is the quarrel? John flings down the flesh he had carrying, and grips the colley, who took John for an enemy too, and bites his hands, till the blood followed, the whole of the tykes comes on a poor John, till down he goes in the dirt amongst their feet, and one of the dogs runs off with his flesh, so John went hame both dirty and bloody without his flesh, tell’d Girzy how it happened, who applied her old plaister, her tangs and tongue, made John to curse the very minister that married them, and wished he might never do a better turn.
III. Next morning, John was sent to the well with the great stoup to bring in water for breakfast, and as he was pulling the stoup out of the well, in he tumbles, and his head down, the well being narrow, he you’d na win out, some people passing, by chance heard the slunge, cried, and runs to his relief, hail’d him out half dead, and helped him into the house, and after getting a dry sark, he was comforted with the old plaister, her tongue and the hard tangs.