3
'My dochter she's a thrifty lass,
She span seven year to me,
And if it were weel counted up,
Full three heire it would be.
4
'What's the matter wi you, my fair creature,
You look so pale and wan?
I'm sure you was once the fairest creature
That ever the sun shined on.
5
'Gae scrape yoursel, and gae scart yoursel,
And mak your brucket face clean,
For the wooers are to be here to nighte,
And your body's to be seen.'
6
Sae they scrapit her, and they scartit her,
Like the face of an aussy pan;
Syne in cam Kempy Kay himself,
A clever and tall young man.
7
His teeth they were like tether-sticks,
His nose was three fit lang,
Between his shouthers was ells three,
And tween his eyne a span.
8
He led his dochter by the hand,
His dochter ben brought he:
'O is she not the fairest lass
That's in great Christendye?'
9
Ilka hair intil her head
Was like a heather-cowe,
And ilka louse anunder it
Was like a bruckit ewe.
10
She had tauchy teeth and kaily lips,
And wide lugs, fou o hair;
Her pouches fou o peasemeal-daighe
A' hinging down her spare.
11
Ilka eye intil her head
Was like a rotten plumbe,
And down browed was the queyne,
And sairly did she gloom.
12
Ilka nail upon her hand
Was like an iron rake,
And ilka tooth intil her head
Was like a tether-stake.