  After R. B. Tummas Katt cam' roun' to woo, Ha, ha, the wooin' o't; Lichtly sang ta lang nicht thro', Ha, ha, the mewin' o't; Tabbie, winsome, tim'rous beast, Speakit: 'Tummas, hand tha' weist! Girt auld Tummas 'gan inseest; Ha, ha, the doin' o't! Tabbie laucht, an' brawly fleired, Ha, ha, the fleirin' o't; Tummas,—ech! but Tummas speired Ha, ha, the speirin' o't; Sic an awesome, fearfu' screep, Wakin' a' aroun' frae sleep; Fegs, it gar'd the Gudeman weep! Ha, ha, the hearin' o't! Quoth the Gudeman: 'Dairm his een!' Ha, ha, the swearin' o't; 'Muckle fasht was I yestreen, A' thro' the bearin' o't! Ere the sonsie moon was bricht, Clean awa' till mornin' licht, Mickle sleep was mine the nicht; Ha, ha, the wearin' o't!' 'Where are noo ma booties twa? Ha, ha, the stoppin' o't; 'Tis mysel' shall gar him fa'; Ha, ha, the coppin' o't! 'Gin a bootie, strang an' stoot, Sneckit Tummas roun' ta snoot, Winna Tummas gang frae oot? Ha, ha, the droppin' o't!' Swuft the pawky booties came, Ha, ha, the flittin' o't: Tummas scraught, an' lit for hame, Ha, ha, the spittin' o't; Leapit frae ta gairden wa'; Quoth the Gudeman: 'Dairm it a'! What price the hittin' o't?' |
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