But ne'er spak mair.
‘A country laird had ta'en the batts, botts
Or some curmurring in his guts, commotion
His only son for Hornbook sets,
An' pays him well:
The lad, for twa guid gimmer-pets, pet-ewes
Was laird himsel.
‘A bonnie lass, ye kenn'd her name,
Some ill-brewn drink had hov'd her wame; raised, belly