74. it’s unkensome.
After 7:
‘There lives a smith on the water-side
Will shoe my little black mare for me,
And I’ve a crown in my pocket,
And every groat of it I wad gie.’
‘The night is mirk, and it’s very mirk,
And by candle-light I canna weel see;
The night is mirk, and it’s very pit mirk,
And there will never a nail ca right for me.’