"And scrub?" says he.
"Surely," says she.
"And mend my clouts?" says he.
"I can that," says she.
"I reckon thou 'lt do then as well as anybody," says he; "but what'll I do about this wise woman?"
"Oh, wait a bit," says she, "something may turn up, and it'll not matter if thou 'rt a fool, so long'st thou 'st got me to look after thee."
"That's true," says he, and off they went and got married. And she kept his house so clean and neat, and cooked his dinner so fine, that one night he says to her: "Lass, I'm thinking I like thee best of everything after all."
"That's good hearing," says she, "and what then?"
"Have I got to kill thee, dost think, and take thy heart up to the wise woman for that pottle o' brains?"
"Law, no!" says she, looking skeered, "I winna have that. But see here; thou didn't cut out thy mother's heart, did thou?"