Sawny. What the vengeance, mither, do ye think a body’s to file the bed every night because they did it ance. Mither. Na, na that’s no what I mean; it is the happiness that fouk hae that’s married, beside the lonesome life that I hae, lying tumbling and gaunting in a bed my lane: O sirs, but a man in bed be a useful body, an it were but to claw anes back, as for a body’s foreside they can claw it themselves. Sawny. Ah mither, mither, ye hae fun a string again; I think ye might a wanted all your days, when ye hae wanted sae lang: ye hae plenty of baith milk and meal, snuff and tobacco; but ye smell at the crack of a whip, I kend my mither wad ride yet, for I’ve seen her fit waggan this lang time. Mither. A dear Sawny man, an thou were ance fairly aff the fodder, I’ll be cast into a hole of a house by mysel, where I’ll just lye and break my heart, and weary myself to death; but an I could get a bit honest weaver, a cobbler, or some auld tailor by the tail, I would tackle to him yet, let the country clash as they please about it. Sawny. A well, a well mither, tak your ain flight, there’s nae fool like an auld fool; for the morn I’ll be aff or on wi’ the hissie I hae in hand. So on the morrow Sawny got all his claes cleaned, his hair camed and greased with butter, and his face as clean as if the cat had licked it, and away he goes singing. I will buy a pound of woo’, I will wash’t and mak a plaidy, I’m gaun ower the muir to woo’, Carlin, is your daughter ready. Now poor Sawny, although he sang, he was as pale as a ghost from the grave; his face was whitely white, like a weel bleached dishclout, and he looked as if he had been eaten and spued again; but at length he came to the bride’s door, and in he goes with a brattle, crying, how’s all here the day? and what’s comed of thy mither lassie? O Saunders, quo the bride she’s awa to the town: what came of ye yesterday, she waited on you the whole day, ye gart her lose a day’s trade lad, and she is awa this morning cursing like a heathen, and swearing Be-go that ye hae gien her the begunk. Sawny. A dole woman, I took a sudden blast in the hame gaun and was never sae near dead in my life. And wha think you was in company wi Kate the bride, but the wee button of a tailor, who sat and sewed on a table, cocking like a t--d on a trencher; but when he kent wha was come, he leaped down on the floor, coost a dash of pride like a little bit prince, bobbet about, and so out he goes, with the tear in his eye, and his tail between his feet, like a half worried dog. Sawny. Now, Katie, do ye ken what I’m comed about? Kate. O yes, my mither tell’d me: but I’m no ready yet, I hae twa gowns to spin and things to make. Sawny. Hute, things to make, ye hae as mony things as ye’ll need, woman; canna ye spin gowns in your ain house wi me, as weel as here, wi an auld girning mither?