VIII.

Wi' kindly welcome, Jenny brings him ben; A strappan youth; he taks the Mother's eye; Blythe Jenny sees the visit's no ill ta'en; The Father cracks of horses, pleughs, and kye. The youngster's artless heart o'erflows wi' joy, But blate, an laithfu', scarce can weel behave; The Mother, wi' a woman's wiles, can spy What makes the youth sae bashfu' and sae grave; Weel pleas'd to think her bairn's respected like the lave.