Birnie, Rev. Charles

Fan the aisse is teemt oot an the fire kittled up
An the kettle hung on tull the swey,
The taypot fullt up on the side o the bink
Meal tae'n ben fae the girnal forby,
The milk that wis seyed intae bowlies yestreen
His a fine layer o ream on the tap-
A set for the men fan they've sortit the horse
Tae steer up their brose in the caup.

Noo, oot tull the chaumer, it needs a redd up
The mattrass in the caff-bed needs turnt;
An ye're nae suner back, yer wark meets ye again
Wi a basin o milk tae be churned.
Syne oot tae the neep-shed tae wyle a fresh swede
Denner-time'll be here ere ye ken-
Ower the park for the kale that is nott for the broth
Fan the men'll be lowsin again.

Fan fool kersey breeks turn up tae be washt
Rain-watter's aye best fae the bowie
For heavy wark-claes maun be steepit an slappert
An hung on tae dreep on the towie.
An efterneen's bakin! Awa tae the stack
For cloddies tae mak up the fire
So't the corters weel-birslet will curl ben the rack-
Siccan fine wi new milk fae the byre!

Aye, evenin comes roon, an we get a sit-doon
An shochle wir feet tae wir shune;
Bit the loons caa'd his knees throw his new dungarees
So it's oot wi the shewin machine.
The knock's chappin ten, we'll be risten the fire
An I pech aa I clim up the stair-
For thinks I tae masel, "We'll awa tae wir beds
Tae lat's up in the mornin aince mair."