A comber till his hair,
Five hunder pound in his pocket,
To spen’, and nae to spair.
10.
She’s gi’en him a steed was good in need,
An’ a saddle o’ royal bone,
A leash o’ hounds o’ ae litter,
An’ Hector called one.
11.
Atween this twa a vow was made,
A comber till his hair,
Five hunder pound in his pocket,
To spen’, and nae to spair.
10.
She’s gi’en him a steed was good in need,
An’ a saddle o’ royal bone,
A leash o’ hounds o’ ae litter,
An’ Hector called one.
11.
Atween this twa a vow was made,