A collection of ancient and modern Scottish ballads, etc

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The calvls and ky met in the lone.
The man ran with ane mug to red
Than thair cumis ane illwilly cow.
And brodit liis buttock quhiil that it bled.
Than hame ran to a rok of tow.
And he satt doun to say the spinning
I trow he low tit our neir the low
Quoth he, " This work has ill beginning/'
Hynd to the kirn than did he stoure.
And jumlit at it quhiil he swat ;
Quhen he had fumlit a full lang hour.
The sorrow a scrape of butter he gat •
Albeit na butter he could get,
Yit he was cummerit with the kirne.
And syne he het the milk our het.
And sorrow a spark of it wald yirne.
Than ben thair cam ane griedy sow,
I trow he cund hir little thank.
For in scho shot her mekle mow, \
And ay scho winkit and scho drank:
He eleikit up an cruked club.
And thocht to hit the sow a rout;
The twa gaislings the gled had left
That straik dang baith their harnis onto
Than he bare kindling to the kill^
But scho stert up all in ane low
Quhatevir he hard, quhatevir he saw.
That day he had na will to wow.
Than he gied to tak up the bairnis,
Thocht to half fand thame fair and clene
The first that he gat in his armis
Was a' bedirtin to the ene.
'^OL. u 2 E
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