Nancy Stair: A Novel

by Elinor Macartney Lane

And Duncan of Monteith my suitor has been,

And Stewart of MacBride's, who has served to the Queen.

And if any one bows, it will sure not be me,

For I don't give a groat who wrote Bonnie Dundee!"

The laugh which followed this found Burns at her side, every passion in his inflammable nature alight.

"Aye," he cried, "ye have the verse makin'. But the e's are easy. Why didn't ye try the Doon. 'Tis as celebrate."

"Sure," she answered, "there are rhymes begging for that. Tune, soon, rune, June——"

"And loon," Burns threw in, daffing with her. "Ye wouldn't be forgetting that."

"It was not my intention to be leaving the author of the piece out of it," she threw back at him, laughing, at which Burns gave her a look.

"You'd better mend your manners," he cried, gaily, "or some day I'll take my pen in hand to you, and then, may the Lord have mercy on your soul!" adding low, " Mistress Nancy Stair!"