By mysen, whor I lik'd, then I always mud gang,
Without bein' tell'd about ought.
When however I com to be sixteen year auld,
An' rattled an' ramp'd amang men.
My mother wud call o' me in, an' wald scauld,
An' cry—"Huzzy! tak' care o' thysen."
I've a sweetheart comes now upo' Setterday neeghts,
An' he swears 'at he'll mak' me his wife,
My mam grows se stingy, she scaulds and she flytes,
An' twitters me out o' my life.