oon the door,
Wi' cannie care, they've plac'd them
To lie that night.

The lassies staw frae 'mang them a',
To pou their stalks o' corn;^6
But Rab slips out, an' jinks about,
Behint the muckle thorn:
He grippit Nelly hard and fast:
Loud skirl'd a' the lasses;
But her tap-pickle maist was lost,
Whan kiutlin in the fause-house^7
Wi' him that night.

[Footnote 6: They go to the barnyard, and pull each, at
three different times, a stalk of oats. If the third stalk
wants the "top-pickle," that is, the grain at the top of the
stalk, the party in question will come to the marriage-bed
anything but a maid.--R.B.]

[Footnote 7: When the corn is in a doubtful state, by being
too green or wet, the stack-builder, by means of old timber,
etc., makes a large apartment in his stack, with an opening
in the side which is fairest exposed to the wind: this he
calls a "fause-house."--R.B.]

The auld guid-wife's weel-hoordit nits^8
Are round an' round dividend,
An' mony lads an' lasses' fates
Are there that night decided:
Some kindle couthie side by side,
And burn thegither trimly;
Some start awa wi' saucy pride,
An' jump out owre the chimlie
Fu' high that night.

[Footnote 8: Burning the nuts is a favorite charm. They name
the lad and lass to each particular nut, as they lay them in
the fire; and according as they burn quietly together, or
start from beside one another, the course and issue of the
courtship will be.--R.B.]

Jean slips in twa, wi' tentie e'e;
Wha 'twas, she wadna tell;
But this is Jock, an' this is me,
She says in to hersel':
He bleez'd owre her, an' she owre him,
As they wad never mair part:
Till fuff! he started up the lum,
An' Jean had e'en a sair heart
To see't that night.

Poor Willie, wi' his bow-kail runt,
Was brunt wi' primsie Mallie;
An' Mary, nae doubt, took the drunt,
To be compar'd to Willie:
Mall's nit lap out, wi' pridefu' fling,
An' her ain fit, it brunt it;
While Willie lap, and swore by jing,
'Twas just the way he wanted
To be that night.

Nell had the fause-house in her min',
She pits hersel an' Rob in;
In loving bleeze they sweetly join,
Till white in ase they're sobbin:
Nell's heart was danc