Watty and Meg, or the Wife Reformed
KEEN the frosty winds were blawing,
Deep the gnaw had wreathed the ploughs,
Watty, wearied a’ day sawing,
Daunert down to Mungo Blne’s.
Dryster Jock was sitting cracky,
Wi’ Pate Tamson o’ the Hill,
” Come awa’,” quo’ Johnny, ” Watty 1
Haith we’se hae anither gill.”
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