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William Miller

On J. W. falling heir to considerable poverty.

"So Johnny he's an heir!
An' if ye observe it,
Seldom sic gude luck
Fa's where they deserve it.'
Sic a hearty cheer
Frae his trusty cronies,
Weel might warm a heart
Caulder far than Johnny's.

When we're growin' auld,
To provide a mouthfu'
Is a weary faught,---
No to say a toothfu'.

Then when Fortune comes
Like a show'r in summer,
Scattering riches roon,
Welcome is the kimmer.

He's got bills an' bonds.
Three per cents, an' real stock,
An' as meikle gowd
As will fill a meal pock.

Will it drive him gyte---
Will he turn deleerit---
Will he aff to France---
Or to some place near it?

Puddocks eat, an' learn
Capering an' booin',
Tyne his mither-tongue,
An' tak to parley-vooin'.

Will he treat his gab
To their ham sae reekie,
Sup oysters wi' a spoon
Yet bock at cockie-leekie?

Will subscription sheets
Handsomely be arl'd,
That his name may be
Foremost in the "Herald?'

Will he buy a wig
Shinin' like a fiddle,
Specs without e'en shanks
On his nose to striddle?

Rin an' ring the bell,---
Tell each worthy cronie,
Siller mak's nae change
For the waur on Johnnie.

Aye the hearty laugh,
Aye the langsyne story,
Aye the tither tot,
An' Johnnie's in his glory!

Jun 2, 2007


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