Now after Tom’s return to Scotland, he got a wife, and took a little farm near Dalkeith, and became a very douse man, for many years, following his old business the couping horses and cows, and feeding veals for the slaughter, and the like. He went one day to a fair and bought a fine cow from an old woman; but Tom judged from the lowness of the price, that the cow had certainly some very great faults. Tom gives the wife the other hearty bicker of ale, then says he, gudewife the money is yours and the cow is mine, you maun tell me ony wee faults it has. Indeed, says the goodwife, she has na faut but ane, and if she wanted it, I wad never a parted wi’ her. And what’s that gudewife, said he. Indeed said she, the filthy daft beast sucks ay hersel’. But says Tom if that be all, I’ll soon cure her of that. O! can you do’t, said she, if I had kent what wad don’t I wadna sold her. A-well, says Tom, I’ll tell you what to do, tak’ the price I gave you just now, and tie it hard and fast in your napkin, and give it to me, through beneath the cow’s wame, and I’ll give you the napkin again o’er the cow’s back, and I’ll lay my life for it, that she’ll never suck hersel’ in my aught. I wat well said she I’se do that, an’ there should be witchcraft in’t. So Tom got it thro’ below the cow’s wame, he takes out his money, and gave the wife her napkin over the cow’s back, as he promised, saying, Now, wife, you have your cow and I my money, and she will never suck herself in my aught, as I told you. O dole! dole! cried the wife, is that your cure? you’ve cheated me, you’ve cheated me.