A coo that ae day triet tae flee
Gat stucken haaf wye up a tree.
A bonnie beas pairt-fite, pairt-broon,
She wisna able tae get doon.
She criet upon her freen the meer;
Bit she wis deef an didna hear.
She thocht the pig micht stacher by;
Bit he wis sloch'rin in his stye.
It happent tee that that ilka sheep
Wis heid-doon chaain at a neep.
The caat wis shairpenin her clooks
The fulp wis busy fleggin deuks.
The hens war thrang wi clokin, fegs,
An didna wint tae leave their aigs;
An onywey, lick deuks an geese,
They widna hae been muckle eese.
A peacock syne cam nar te tree;
An kynly speirt fat he cud dee.
The coo criet Help me! Dinn fail!
I ken! says he. I'll fan ma tail!
The moral o the story's plain:
Fan tribble comes, ye're on yer ain!
pairt-fite = partly white;
meer = mare;
sloch'r = wallowing (good word eh?);
fulp = dog;
thrang = busy;
clockin = brooding
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