XXVII. In order, on the clean hearth ftane, The Luggies three * are ranged; Because he gat the toom dish thrice, He heav'd them on the fire, In wrath that night. XXVIII. Wi' merry fangs, and friendly cracks, And unco tales, an' funnie-jokes, Their fports were cheap and cheary: Syne, wi' a focial glafs o' ftrunt, Fu blythe that night. * Take three dishes; put clean water in one, foul water in another, and leave the third empty: blindfold a perfon, and lead him to the hearth where the dishes are ranged; he (or she) dips the left hand; if by chance in the clean water, the fature husband or wife will come to the bar of Matrimony a maid; if in the foul, a widow; if in the empty difh, it foretel!s, with equat certainty, no marriage at all. It is repeated three times; and every time the arrangement of the dishes is altered. Sowens, with butter inftead of milk to them, is always the Halloween Supper. G THE AULD FARMER's NEW-YEAR MORNING SALUTATION то H I S AULD MARE, MAGGIE, On giving her the accustomed Ripp of Corn to hanfel in the New-Year. A GUID New-Year I wish thee, Maggie ! Hae, there's a ripp to thy auld baggie : Tho' thou's how-backit, now, an' knaggie, I've seen the day Thou could hae gaen like any staggie Out-owre the lay. Tho' now thou's dowie, ftiff, an' crazy, A bonie gray: He fhould been tight that daur't to raise thee, Ance in a day. Thou ance was i' the foremost rank, As e'er tread yird; An' could hae flown out owre a ftank Like onie bird. It's now fome nine-an'.twenty year, Sin' thou was my Guid-father's Meere; He gied me thee,, o' tocher clear, An' fifty mark; Tho' it was fma', 'twas weel-won gear, An' thou was stark. When first I gaed to woo my Jenny; Ye then was trottin wi' your Minnie; Tho' ye was trickie, flee an' funnie, Ye ne'er was donfie; But hamely, tawie, quiet, an' cannie, That day' ye pranc'd wi' muckle pride, When ye bure hame my bonie Bride An fweet an' gracefu' she did ride Wi' maiden air! Kyle-Stewart I could bragged wide, For fic a pair, Tho' now ye dow but hoyte and hoble, An' wintle like a faumont-coble, THE AULD FARMER's NEW-YEAR MORNING SALUTATION то HIS AULD MARE, MAGGIE, On giving her the accustomed Ripp of Corn to hanfel in the New-Year. A GUID New-Year I wish thee, Maggie ! Hae, there's a ripp to thy auld baggie : Thou could hae gaen like any ftaggie Tho' now thou's dowie, ftiff, an' crazy, An' thy auld hide as white's a daisie, A bonie gray: He fhould been tight that daur't to raise thee, Ance in a day. Thou ance was i' the foremost rank, As e'er tread yird; An' could hae flown out owre a ftank Like onie bird. It's now fome nine-an'-twenty year, Sin' thou was my Guid-father's Meere; He gied me thee,, o' tocher clear, An' fifty mark; Tho' it was fma', 'twas weel-won gear, An' thou was stark. When first I gaed to woo my Jenny's Ye then was trottin wi' your Minnie; Tho' ye was trickie, flee an' funnie, Ye ne'er was donfie; But hamely, tawie, quiet, an' cannie, An' unco fonfie. That day' ye pranc'd wi' muckle pride, When ye bure hame my bonie Bride An fweet an' gracefu' she did ride Wi' maiden air! Kyle-Stewart I could bragged wide, For fic a pair, Tho' now ye dow but hoyte and hoble, An' wintle like a faumont-coble, |