VII.

But, hark! a rap comes gently to the door; Jenny, wha kens the meaning o' the same, Tells how a neebor lad cam o'er the moor, To do some errands, and convoy her hame. The wily Mother sees the conscious flame Sparkle in Jenny's e'e, and flush her cheek, With heart-struck anxious care, inquires his name, While Jenny hafflins is afraid to speak; Weel pleas'd the Mother hears it's nae wild, worthless rake.