“ Jockey’s mither fell a flyting, and he himfelf a rubbing his lugs, and riving his hair, saying, O gin I were but a half ell higher, I sud be a soger or it be lang: an gie me a good flail or a corn fork, I sun kill Frenchmen anew, before I gade to face yon flyting ministers, an be set up like a warld’s wonder on their cock-stool or black-stool, an wha can hide the shame, whan every body looks to them, wi' their sacken sarks or gowns on them, like the piece of an auld canvas prickt about a body for naething but what every body does amaist, or they be metried as well as me. ”

“ Up gets auld Rabby, an auld Sandy the suter o’ Seggyhole, to put every thing in order; they prapet up the bed wi’ a rake and rippling kame, the bearers being braken, they made a solid foundation o’ peets, laid on the calf-bed and bowsters, where Jockey and Maggy was beddet the second time.
Jockey not being used to lie wi’a naked woman, except heads and thraws wi' his mither, gets his twa hands about the bride’s neck, and his hough out o’er her hurdies, saying, I ne’er kist wife nor lass naked before, and for fainess I’ll bite you. ”

“ Up gets Maggy wi’ a rore, and rives her hair, cries her back, belly an baith her sides; the weed and gut gaes thro’ my flesh like lang needles, nails, or elshin irons. Wae be to the day that e’er I saw his face, I had better married a tinkler, or a followed the sogers, as mony a honest man’s dochter has done, and liv’d a better life than I do.
Up gets Joekey an rins o’er the rigs for John Roger's wife; auld Kitty the howdy, but or he wan back she parted wi' Patrick thro’ perfect spite an then lay twa fauld o’er a stool in a swoon. ”

“ Ay, said she, here’s the bride to ly down wi’ you. Na, na, said he. I'll no ly wi’ that unco woman indeed, if it binna heads an thraws the way I ly with my mither? O fy! dinna affront yoursel: The bride saus a crying, O mither! mither! was this the way my father guided you the first night? Na, na, thy father was a man o’ manners and better mettle, poor thing Meg, thou’s ca'd thy hogs to a bonny market. A bonny market says his mither, a shame fa’ you an her baith, he’s wordy o’ her tho’ she were better nor what she is, or e’er will be. ”

“ Then the ill thief be in his arse Mess John, gin o’er he set his hip upon’t, my bairn on your black-stool? and wadna't be a great blunder on the auld black face o't, to my son to gang on't before the young laird, who has had twa bystarts an ne'er set a hip on't yet, and he's continually riding on the hissies to this day, and them that winna let him, he rives their duds, and kicks their doups. A dear Mess John, an ye gie gentle fouk a toleration to whore, to fornicate, kiss and cuddle a wee, wi ilka body they like, I'll gie you ten marks and gie't to me an my son too. ”

“ Come, come, gets in Uncle Rabby, the corn riddle fu’ o’ the three neuket scons, whang down the cheese like peats, eat and drink as at my mither’s dradgey, till we forget our sorrow, an’ then we’ll see Mess John about a name to him; since we, see 'tis the way o't, that the young comes into the warld and chases out the auld, we maun christen them, an they maun bury us.
Now John and his Uncle goes to the Minister, he enters, saying, guideen to you Mr Minister, ye dinna ken my mither’s dead? ”

“ Ay, ay, mither, tho' I fell ye needna faun abune me, and gin ye had lyne where ye lighted first, ye wadne tumbled into the well: ‘tis an unco thing that a body canna get a fa‘ but ye maun fa' abune them: auld ruddoch it thou is, thou might a hauden better by the rumple, an ye wadna a bruised a' my back wi‘ your auld hard banes, nor a wat a' yoursel sae, an see, how ye have drummel’d a‘ John Davie‘s well. ”

“ I bid you haud your tongue, an no oven your bystarts to my bairn, for he’ll ne’er tak wi’t: he, poor silly lad, he wad ne’er look to a lass, be’s to lay her down. Fy Maggy cry in o’ John, and let’s ratify’t wi’ the auld ruddoch; ay, ye’re no blate for saying sae. ”

“ Goodwife, you need not think your son will pass so, more than others that have been before him, he must actually come before the congregation three Sabbaths before he be absolved from the scandal, and get the benefit of any church privileges like any other honest man. ”

“ A deed than woman I’ll tell you, the merry begotten weans, ’tis bystarts I mean, is red wood half wittet hillocket sort o’ creatures; for an it bo na ane among twenty o’ them, they're a’ fear’d o' the getting, for there’s few o' them gotten in beds like honest fouks bairns; but in out-houses, auld barns, backs o’ dykes, an kill-logies, whare there’t ay some body wandering about to fear poor needfu’ persons at their job o’ journey-wark: for weel ken I the gates o’t, experience gars me speak. ”

“ Hout tout ay, ye ’tis auld wives is ay fu’ o’ reets an religious fashions, them that look to frets, reets follows them, but is six an thirty years since I was a married wife, an I never kend a Sabbath day by anither ane, monny a time till the bell rang. ”

“ Our John the father o’t! had, there enough said, lying lown, I trow our John was ne’er guilty o’ sic a sinfu' action: Dafo woman, I trow it'll be but wind that hoves up the lassie’s waine, she’Il hae drunken some four drink, like raw sowens, or rotten milk that mak’s her sae. ”

“ As for your sin of adultery, I have naething ado wi‘t, I ken my son is a fornicator, an ye can neither mak him better nor war nor he is, there‘s nae man can keep a standing in their ain hand, fortune I mean, if it be a sin let him confess't, an forsake it, and we‘s pay the buttock-mail and mak nae mair about it. ”

“ A foul be your gabs, ye’re a sae gash o' your gabbies, a wheen fools that stives up your gutses, wi' good meat, to gar the worms turn wanton an wallop in your wames; feed yourselves as I do, wi' hacket kail, brose made o’ groat meal, an gray meal, sand, seeds, dust an weak shilling, ony thing is good enough to fill the guts an mak a t—d o'. ”

“ An ye had been as great an instrogator against his making her double ribbet, as ye are now against doing her justice, for the filthy jumcrack he’s gien her, ye wadna need to ca’ her silly lown the day, and him an honest man; but the ne’er an honest man wad a hoddl’d sae lang on ae poor hidie an then gane awa’ an a married anither for the love o’ a pickle auld clouts, an twa three pockfu’s o’ tow; an she is but a silly lown indeed that lute him or ony rattlescull else, shake their tail sae lang upon her, without his faith, an his troth, an his fist before the minister. ”

“ His mither cries thro’ the hole o' the door: A ye senseless sumph, is that a’ the thanks I get for counselling you to do well, war na me ye wad a been married on a lown-like, leepet, lazy lump, who had neither wit nor wyles, no sue muckle judgment as wyle the wind frae her tail but lute it gang afore fouks.
Up gets the elders, crying, Fy, fy, Duncan the bellman, drive that wicked wife frae the door, she disturbs us all. ”

“ Will you or ony body else, wi’ your mortifying o' your members, prevent what’s to come to pass? I wish I saw the minister an his elders, but I’se gie him scripture for a' he’s done yet; tell na me about the mortifying o’ members, gin he had gotten a bystart, let her an him feed it between them, an they su'd gie t soup about; but she maun keep it the first quarter, an be that time muckle black lady will be cauft, we fall fell the cauf an foster the wean on the cow’s milk; that’s a better mense for a saut, than a’ your mortifying o‘ members, an a' your repenting stools ”

“ But waes me, we that’s poor fouk is born to mony saelins an backward fans, this lad is my son, an am his mither, he has had the foul fortune to get a bystart bairn, nae doubt but we hae a’ been guilty o’ as muckle, an ne’er a word about it, a what say ye madam? ”

“ Thou’s want for naething my bairn, but pusht forward as fist as ye can.
The wooing being o’er and the day being set, Jockey’s mither kill’d the black boul horn’d yeal Ew,e that lost her lamb the last year, three hens an a guse fitted cock to prevent the ripples, five pecks o’ mant masket in the muckle kirn, a pint o’ treacle to mak it thicker and sweeter an maumier for the mouth ”

“ O Johnny ye’re in the right o't for mony ane is beguil’d and gets naething, but my father is to gie me forty punds Scots that night I am married, a lade o’ meal, a furlet o’ groats, auld Crummie is mine since she was a ca’f, and now she has a stirk will tak the bill e’er Beltan yet, I hae twa stane o’ good lint, and three pockfu’s o’ tow, a good ca’fbed, twa bousters and three cods, with three pair o' blankets, an a covering, forby twa pair to spla, but my mither wadna gie me creesh to them, an ye ken the butter is dear now? ”

“ Ay, ay, my man Jonnny, that’s the way she has gotten her belly full o’ bairns; ’tis no you, nor the like o’ you, poor innocent lad, that gets bystart weans; a wheen silly lowns, every one loups on anither, and gies you the wyte o’t. ”

“ My man Johnny, ye’re at nae strait about bairns getting, some needs to gang to London to learn that auld trade; I ken very weel when ane gets wark lumes right to their hands, nature will teach them how to fa’ too. ”

“ Yes stir, a' that is very true, but I hae been three or four times thro' the Bible and the New testament, and I never saw a repenting stool in’t a‘, them whare cou‘d the first o‘ them come frae, the Apostles had nane o‘ them. ”