third installment

Close to the laird John draws his chair,
Who unsuspicious, unaware
    What a' this kindness meant;
Go Sir, quo John I'm sure ye'll never
Refuse a tenant this sma' favour --,
    What is it John ye want?

(John oo'd and nicher'd like a stallion),
Your dons, wer't but a single million,
    I'd be right happy o'er them: --
A million, John, ye're ay sae funny,
A million canna be that mony,
    What will ye gi'a me for them? --

Your honour, sir, (hum ha) I think
And rang the bell for pen an' ink,
They'll run about ten pecks; --
For Twal pecks price, John, ye shall get them, --
They're counted gude by a' e'er are ate them, --
    (John hirsel'd on his specks.)

Your honour's will, a bargain be't
We'll put it upon black an' white,
    In case it be forgot;
It's lang e'er I the taties need,
An' time gars things wear out o' head, --
    The laird sign'd what John wrote.

to be continued