Death and Doctor Hornbook(5/13)
r'd;
i wad na mind it, no that spittle
out-owre my beard.”
“weel, weel!” says i, “a bargain be't;
e, gie's your hand, an' sae weree't;
we'll ease our shanks an tak a seat—
e, gie's your news;
this while ye hae been mony a gate,
at mony a house.”
“ay, ay!” quo' he, an' shook his head,
“it's e'en a ng, ng time indeed
sin' i began to nick the thread,
an' choke the breath:
folk maun do something for their bread,
an' sae mauh.
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