“We dream in courtship, but in wedlock wake”.—POPE.

KEEN the frosty winds were blawing,
Deep the snaw had wreath'd the ploughs;
Watty, weary'd a' day sawing,
Daunert down to Mungo Blue's.

Dryster Jock was sitting cracky,
Wi' Pate Tamson o' the Hill;
“Come awa',” quo' Johnny, “Watty!
Haith we'se hae anther gill”.

Watty glad to see Jock Jabos,
And sae mony neibours roun',
Kicket frae his shoon the snawbas,
Syne ayont the fire sat down.

Owre a broad wi' bannocks heapet,
Cheese, and stoups, and glasses stood;
Some were roaring, ithers sleepit,
Ithers quietly chewt their cude.

Jock was selling Pate some tallow,
A' the rest a racket hel',
A' but Watty, wha, poor fallow!
Sat and smoket by himsel'.

Mungo fill'd him up a toothfu',
Drank his health and Meg's in ane;
Watty, puffing out a mouthfu',
Pledged him wi' a dreary grane.

“What's the matter, Watty, wi' you?
“Trouth your chafts are fa'ing in!
“Something's wrang—I'm vex'd to see you—
“Gudesake! but ye're desp'rate thin!”

“Ay,” quo' Watty, “things are alter'd,
“But it's past redemption now;
“Lord! I wish I had been halter'd
“When I marry'd Maggy Howe!”

“I've been poor, and vex'd, and raggy,
“Try'd wi' troubles no that sma';
“Them I bore—but marrying Maggy
“Laid the cap-stane o' them a'.”

“Night and day she's ever yelping,
“With the weans she ne'er can gree;
“When she's tired with perfect skelping,
“Then she flees like fire on me.”

“See ye, Mungo! when she'll clash on
“With her everlasting clack,
“Whiles I've had my neive, in passion,
“Liftet up to break her back! ”

“O, for gudesako, keep frae cuffets!”
Mungo shook his head and said:
“Weel I ken what sort of life it's;
“Ken ye, Watty, how I did ?—”