Who take a trip to Paris once a year

To dress, and look like awkward Frenchmen here,—

Lend me your hand: O fatal news to tell,

Their hands are only lent to the Heinelle.

MISS CATLEY.

Ay, take your travellers—travellers indeed!

Give me my bonny Scot, that travels from the Tweed.

Where are the chiels?—Ah! ah, I well discern

The smiling looks of each bewitching bairn.

Air.—A bonny young Lad is my Jocky.