To make that ladye hark: Shrill and more shrill the popinjay Upraised his angry squall: I trow the doggie's voice that day Was louder than them all! The serving-men and serving-maids Sat by the kitchen fire: They heard sic' a din the parlour within As made them much admire. Out spake the boy in buttons (I ween he wasna thin), "Now wha will tae the parlour gae, And stay this deadlie din?" And they have taen a kerchief, Casted their kevils in, For wha will tae the parlour gae, And stay that deadlie din. When on that boy the kevil fell To stay the fearsome noise, "Gae in," they cried, "whate'er betide, Thou prince of button-boys!" Syne, he has taen a supple cane To swinge that dog sae fat: The doggie yowled, the doggie howled The louder aye for that. Syne, he has taen a mutton-bane – The doggie ceased his noise, And followed doon the kitchen stair That prince of button-boys! Then sadly spake that ladye fair, Wi' a frown upon her brow: "O dearer to me is my sma' doggie Than a dozen sic' as thou! "Nae use, nae use for sighs and tears: Nae use at all to fret: Sin' ye've bided sae well for thirty years, Ye may bide a wee langer yet!" Sadly, sadly he crossed the floor And tirled at the pin: Sadly went he through the door Where sadly he cam' in. "O gin I had a popinjay To fly abune my head,