The Reprobate’s Reply
Three droving men, some three weeks sync,
Sat drinking the Queensland rum;
’Twas four a.m. when twa o’ them
Saw jock M’Phee succumb.
Hech! they were giddy songs he’d sung,
And the yarns which he’d spun were 'free’! -
For the liquor that nicht had loosed the tongue
O’ gudeman Jock M’Phee.
They taul, t the meenister what befell,
So he tuk braw Jock to task:-
‘Jock, gie me noo an answer true
To one question I wull ask.
’An’ it happened the Laird had stricken ye,
A reprobate, graceless mon,
Whan ye war a bletherin’ yestere’en -
D’ye ken whare ye wad hae gone?’
‘Whare wad I hae gone?’ - and Jockie wunk -
'Dinna ye fash yersel’ mair -
For I wad ha’ bin too terrible drunk
To ha’ gone anywhere.’
