Maggy. O Johny ye’re ay in the right o’t, for mony ane is beguil’d and gets naething, but my father is to gie me forty pund Scots, that night I am married, a lade of meal, a furlet of groats, auld Crummie is mine since she was a cauf, and now she has a stirk will tak the bill e’er beltan yet, I hae twa stane o’ good lint, and three pockfu’s o’ tow a good cauf bed, twa bowsters and three cods, with three pair o’ blankets, an’ a covering; forby twa pair to spin, but my mither wadna gie me crish to them, an ye ken the butter is dear now.[3]
Jockey. Then farewel the night Maggy; the best o’ friends maun part, and so maun thy twa legs yet.
Maggy. I wish you well, Johny, but sae nae mair till we be married, and then lad.
Hame gaed Maggy and tell’d her Mither.
Mag. O mither! I hae something to tell ye, but ye mauna tell my father.
Mither. Dear Maggy an what is that!
Mag. Deed Mither, am gawn to be married an’ the muck were out.
Mith. Dear Maggy an wha’s thou gawn to get, it’s no auld bubly Tammy.
Mag. Na, na, he’s a bra young man, and has mair gear nor ilka body kens o’, guess an I’ll tell you, it’s Johny Bell, and his mither sent him to the market just to court me.