Ill-fardly[1056] wald she crook her mou’.
Sic a poor man sheld nevir trow[1057]
Aftir the gaberlunzieman.”
“My dear,” quo he, “zee’re zet owre zonge,
And hae na learnt the beggar’s tonge,
To follow me frae toun to toun,
And carrie the gaberlunzie on:
“Wi’ kauk and keel[1058] I’ll win zour bread,
And spindles and whorles[1059] for them wha need—
Whilk is a gentil trade indeed,