A Night Out with Burns by Robert Burns Page B

bleez’d owre her, an’ she owre him,
    As they wad never mair part,
    Till fuff! he started up the lum,
    An’ Jean had e’en a sair heart
    To see’t that night.

    Poor Willie , wi’ his bow-kail runt ,
    Was brunt wi’ primsie Mallie ;
    An’ Mary , nae doubt, took the drunt,
    To be compar’d to Willie :
    Mall ’s nit lap out, wi’ pridefu’ fling,
    An’ her ain fit, it brunt it;
    While Willie lap, an’ swoor by jing ,
    â€™Twas just the way he wanted
    To be that night.
    Nell had the Fause-house in her min’,
    She pits hersel an’ Rob in;
    In loving bleeze they sweetly join,
    Till white in ase they’re sobbin:
    Nell ’s heart was dancin at the view;
    She whisper’d Rob to leuk for’t;
    Rob , stownlins, prie’d her bonie mou,
    Fu’ cozie in the neuk for’t,
    Unseen that night.

    But Merran sat behint their backs,
    Her thoughts on Andrew Bell ;
    She lea’es them gashan at their cracks,
    An’ slips out by hersel:
    She thro’ the yard the nearest taks,
    An’ for the kiln she goes then,
    An’ darklins grapet for the bauks ,
    And in the blue-clue 9 throws then,
    Right fear’t that night.
    An’ ay she win’t , an’ ay she swat,
    I wat she made nae jaukin;
    Till something held within the pat ,
    Good Lord! but she was quaukin!
    But whether ’twas the Deil himsel,
    Or whether ’twas a bauk-en ’,
    Or whether it was Andrew Bell ,
    She did na wait on talkin
    To spier that night.

    Wee Jenny to her Graunie says,
    â€˜Will ye go wi’ me Graunie?
    I’ll eat the apple at the glass , 10
    I gat frae uncle Johnie:’
    She fuff’t her pipe wi’ sic a lunt,
    In wrath she was sae vap’rin,
    She notic’t na, an aizle brunt
    Her braw, new, worset apron
    Out thro’ that night.

    â€˜Ye little Skelpie-limmer’s-face!
    I daur you try sic sportin,
    As seek the foul Thief onie place,
    For him to spae your fortune:
    Nae doubt but ye may get a sight !
    Great cause ye hae to fear it;
    For monie a ane has gotten a fright,
    An’ liv’d an’ di’d deleeret,
    On sic a night.
    â€˜Ae Hairst afore the Sherra-moor ,
    I mind’t as weel’s yestreen,
    I was a gilpey then, I’m sure,
    I was na past fyfteen:
    The Simmer had been cauld an’ wat,
    An’ Stuff was unco green;
    An’ ay a rantan Kirn we gat,
    An’ just on Halloween
    It fell that night.

    â€˜Our Stibble-rig was Rab M‘Graen ,
    A clever, sturdy fallow;
    His Sin gat Eppie Sim wi’ wean,
    That liv’d in Achmacalla:
    He gat hemp-seed , 11 I mind it weel,
    An’ he made unco light o’t;
    But monie a day was by himsel ,
    He was sae sairly frighted
    That vera night.’
    Then up gat fechtan Jamie Fleck,
    An’ he swoor by his conscience,
    That he could saw hemp-seed a peck;
    For it was a’ but nonsense:
    The auld guidman raught down the pock,
    An’ out a handfu’ gied him;
    Syne bad him slip frae ’mang the folk,
    Sometime when nae ane see’d him,
    An’ try’t that night.

    He marches thro’ amang the stacks,
    Tho’ he was something sturtan;
    The graip he for a harrow taks,
    An’ haurls at his curpan:
    And ev’ry now an’ then, he says,
    â€˜Hemp-seed I saw thee,
    An’ her that is to be my lass,
    Come after me an’ draw thee
    As fast this night.’

    He whistl’d up Lord Lenox’ march ,
    To keep his courage cheary;
    Altho’ his hair began to arch,
    He was sae fley’d an’ eerie:
    Till presently he hears a squeak,
    An’ then a grane an’ gruntle;
    He by his showther gae a keek,
    An’ tumbl’d wi’ a wintle
    Out owre that night.
    He roar’d a horrid murder-shout,
    In dreadfu’ desperation!
    An’ young an’ auld come rinnan out,
    An’ hear the sad narration:
    He swoor ’twas hilchan Jean M‘Craw ,
    Or crouchie Merran Humphie ,
    Till stop! she