* MARGARET DODS *

Nae mair the sign aboon the door

Wi’ passin’ winds is flappin’;

Fish Nellie comes nae as afore

Wi’ nervous chappin’.

The Captain‘ s followed Francie Tyrell —

Mind ance he gaed to seek him,

An’ felt your besom shaft play dirl

Doon-by at Cleikum.

Wi’ thrift as great as made you build

To save the window taxin’,

Death closed your e'en when greedy Eild

Cam’ schedule raxin’.

How gladly would we lea’ the Clubs,

“Wildfire” or “Helter Skelter,”

Dicht fae our feet a’ earthly dubs,

Had ye a shelter

Whaur trauchled chiels — “an’ what for no?”

Gin sae it pleased the gods —

Could rest an’ fish a week or so

At Marget Dods’.

‘ Twould hearten strangers gin they saw

Across some caller loanin’

A wavin’ sign whaur crook an’ a’

Hung auld St. Ronan.

Then haudin’ hard to new-won grace,

Rejectin’ aucht‘ at's evil,

Ye wouldna thole in sic a place

Dick Tinto's Deevil,

But send him sornin’ doon the howe

To some tamteen or hottle,

Whaur birselt vratches fain, I trow,

Wad dreep a bottle.

An’ since you're bye wi’ anger noo,

Send wi’ him something caller —

As muckle's slock the gizzened mou’

O’ ae damned “Waller.”