And, nicht by nicht, we will a' convene
And we'll be a cantie three;
We'll lauch an' crack i' the loanin' green,
The kindest billies that ever was seen,
The tinkler-man wi' his twinklin' een
And the lad i' the mune an' me!




THE GOWK


I see the Gowk an' the Gowk sees me
Beside a berry-bush by the aipple-tree.
_Old Scots Rhyme_.

'Tib, my auntie's a deil to wark,
Has me risin' 'afore the sun;
Aince her heid is abune her sark
Then the clash o' her tongue's begun!
Warslin', steerin' wi' hens an' swine,
Naucht kens she o' a freend o' mine--
But the Gowk that bides i' the woods o' Dun
He kens him fine!

Past the yaird an' ahint the stye,
O the aipples grow bonnilie!
Tib, my auntie, she canna' spy