Then, straught or crooked, yird or nane,
They roar an' cry a' throu'ther;

The vera wee things, todlin, rin

Wi' stocks out-owre their shouther;

An' gif the custoc's sweet or sour,
Wi' joctelegs they taste them;

Syne coziely, aboon the door,

Wi' canni care, they've plac'd them
To lie that night.

VI.

The lasses staw frae mang them a'
To pou their stalks o' corn;*
But Rab slips out, an' jinks about,
Behint the muckle thorn:
He grippet Nelly hard an' fast;

Loud skirl'd a' the lasses;

But her tap-pickle maist was lost,

When kiutlin in the fause-house +

Wi' him that night.

VII.

They go to the barn-yard and pull each, at three several times, a stalk of oats. If the third stalk wants the top-pickle, that is, the grain at the top of the stalk, the party in question will come to the marriage-bed any thing but a maid.

+ When the corn is in a doubtful state, by being too green, or wet, the stack-builder, by means of old tim

ber,

VII.

The auld guidwife's weel-hoordet nits*
Are round an' round divided,
And monie lads and lasses fates

Are there that night decided:
Some kindle, couthie, side by side,
An' burn thegither trimly;
Some start awa wi' saucy pride,
And jump out-owre the chimlie
Fu' high that night.

VIII.

Jean slips in twa wi' tentie e'e;
Wha 'twas, she wadna tell;
But this is Jock, an' this is me,

She says in to hersel:

He bleez'd owre her, and she owre him,

As they wad never mair part;

Till fuff! he started up the lum,
An' Jean had e'en a sair heart

To see't that night.

IX.

ber, &c. makes a large apartment in his stack, with an opening in the side which is fairest exposed to the wind: this he calls a fause-house.

* Burning the nuts is a famous charm. They name the lad and lass to each particular nut, as they lay them in the fire, and accordingly as they burn quietly together, or start from beside one another, the course and issue of the courtship will be.

X.

Poor Willie, wi' his bow-kail runt,
Was brunt wi' primsie Mallie;
An' Mallie, nae doubt, took the drunt,
To be compar'd to Willie:
Mall's nit lap out wi' pridefu' fling,

An' her ain fit it brunt it;
While Willie lap, and swoor by jing,
'Twas just the way he wanted

To be that night.

X.

Nell had the fause-house in her min',
She pits hersel, an' Rob in;
In loving bleeze they sweetly join,
Till white in ase they're sobbin:
Nell's heart was dancin at the view,
She whisper'd Rob to leuk for't:
Rob, stowlins, prie'd her bonnie mou,
Fu' cozie in the neuk for't,

Unseen that night.

XI.

But Merran sat behint their backs,
Her thoughts on Andrew Bell;

She lea'es them gashin at their cracks,
And slips out by hersel:

VOL. III.

K

She

She thro' the yard the nearest taks,
An' to the kiln she goes then,
An' darklins grapit for the bauks,
And in the blue-clue* throws then,

An'

ay she win't, an' ay she swat, I wat she made nae jaukin;

Till something held within the pat,
Guid L-d! but she was quakin!
But whether 'twas the Deil himsel,
Or whether 'twas a bauk-en,
Or whether it was Andrew Bell,

She did na wait on talkin

To spier that night.

XIII.

* Whoever would, with success, try this spell, must strictly observe these directions: Steal out, all alone, to the kiln, and, darkling, throw into the pot a clue of blue yarn; wind it in a new clue off the old one; and, towards the latter end, something will hold the thread, demand, wha hauds? i. e. who holds; an answer will be returned from the kiln-pot, by naming the christian and sirname of your future spouse.

XIII.

Wee Jenny to her Graunie says,
'Will ye go wi' me, graunie?
'I'll eat the apple* at the glass,
'I gat frae uncle Johnie:'
She fuff't her pipe wi' sic a lunt,
In wrath she was sae vap'rin,
She notic't na, an aizle brunt
Her braw new worset apron

Out thro' that night.

XIV.

'Ye little skelpie-limmer's face!
'How daur you try sic sportin,
'As seek the foul Thief ony place,
'For him to spae your fortune:
• Nae doubt but ye may get a sight!
hae to fear it;

Great cause ye
For monie a ane has gotten a fright,
'An' liv'd an' di'd deleeret

* Take a candle, and go alone to a looking-glass; eat an apple before it, and some traditions say, you should comb your hair all the time; the face of your conjugal companion, to be, will be seen in the glass, as if peeping over your shoulder.