The wife she was ailin', the doctor was ca'ed, She was makkin' eneuch din for twa, While Peter was suppin' his brose at the fire, No' heedin' the cratur' ava. "Eh, doctor! My back's fair awa' wi' it noo,...
Not mine to let the hair grow long, and talk In raptured accents of the Higher Things, Of all the purple Polyanthus bears, And beating wings. (Oh no! Nothing of that sort!) ...