But, sure as death, tae understand
The callants beats me fairly.
An’, ’faith, ’tis little gude their schules
Can teach them, as ye’ll see, man,
For—wad ye credit it?—the fules
Can scarcely follow me, man.
An’ yet, tae gie the deils their due,
(An’ little praise they’re worth, man,)
They seem tae ken, I kenna hoo,
That I come frae the Nor-r-th, man!