'Ye dinna tell me — damn the bit —'
(A glimmer lichts the ee,
Syne a the sklaik comes scalin oot,
Like midden oozin bree.)

It's pintless, syne, tae quanter them —
Their argument's entire;
'There's water far a stirkie droons;
An' far there's smoke there's fire.'

If half they said wis Gospel;
We'd be damned for ivermore;
The curse o Scotland's villages...
The sklaikin at the door.