GRANNIE’S BAIRN

When oor wee Elspeth’s in the hoose I scarce hae use for hauns or feet— An’ after a’, why should I fash When she’s sae nimble an’ sae fleet? “I wonner whaur I laid my specs!” The words hae haurdly left ma mooth Afore I fin’, across my nose, She has them set astride forsooth. She threeds ma needle, winds ma woo’, Picks up the steeks that whiles will drap— She slips aboot like some wee moose For fear she’ll wauke me frae ma nap. Her wee three-leggit stool ye’ll aye Fin’ drawn up close tae granny’s chair; She learns her task an’ sews her seam, An’ sups her cog o’ parritch there. An’ mony’s the lang crack we twa hae; But whiles, sic puzzlin’ things she’ll spier, The verra Meenister himsel’ Waud be dumbfounded could he hear. She has her bit camsterie turns, But just eneuch tae show that she Is no a being that is made O’ diff’rent clay tae you an’ me. But that she’s no by-ord’nar wean The neebors roon aboot agree, And sae ye ken it is na just Ma ain opeenion that I gie.