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As help me God, whan that I saugh him go After the beere, methought he had a paire Of legges and of feet so clene and faire, That al myn hert I yaf unto his hold.’

Beyond the wood were the low fields through which the Saugh burn ran.

A large black-tailed weasel or stoat ran from the body as they came near; turned with the nonchalance and impudence of the tribe; stood up upon its hind legs; crossed its fore paws over its nose, and surveyed its enemies a moment or two,—as they often do when no dog is near,—and bounded into a saugh bush.

But when it seized the aged saugh, With the light locks of gray, It tore away its ancient root, And there the old trunk lay!

I hae a wife and twa wee laddies, They maun hae brose and brats o' duddies; Ye ken yoursel's my heart right proud is— I needna vaunt, But I'll sned besoms—thraw saugh woodies, Before they want.