;d
the rev'rend gray-beards rav'd an' storm'd,
that beardless ddies
should think they better wer inform'd,
than their auld daddies.
frae less to mair, it gaed to sticks;
frae words an' aiths to clours an' nicks;
an monie a fallow gat his licks,
wi' hearty t;
an' some, to learn them for their tricks,
were hang'd an' brunt.
this game y'd in mony nds,
an' auld-light caddies bure sids,
that faith, the youook the sands
wi' nimble shanks;
till irds forbad, by striands,
sic bluidy
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