She's no' to see it till her wedding-day comes round.
Syne you're to give it to her, man, and say it's with her mother's love.
Tell her all about me, for it canna harm her then.

Tell her of the fool lies I sent to Thrums, but dinna forget what a bonny place I thought it all the time, nor how I stood on many a driech night at the corner of that street, looking so waeful at the lighted windows, and hungering for the wring of a Thrums hand or the sound of the Thrums word, and all the time the shrewd blasts cutting through my thin trails of claithes.

Tell her, man, how you and me spent this night, and how I fought to keep my hoast down so as no' to waken her.

Mind that whatever I have been, I was aye fond o' my bairns, and slaved for them till I dropped.

She'll have long forgotten what I was like, and it's just as well, but yet--Look at me, Tommy, look long, long, so as you'll be able to call up my face as it was on the far-back night when I telled you my mournful story.