I wad na mind it, no that spittle
Out-owre my beard.’ Over
‘Weel, weel!’ says I, ‘a bargain be't;
Come, gies your hand, an' sae we're gree't; give us, agreed
We'll ease our shanks an' tak a seat—
Come, gies your news;
This while ye hae been mony a gate, road
At mony a house.’
‘Ay, ay!’ quo' he, an' shook his head,
‘It's e'en a lang, lang time indeed