X. Now she giving him no sleep a’ that night for scolding; John got up in the morning lang or day, leaving his tormentor in bed; fell asleep upon his loom with his candle in his hand, and so set the web, heddles, reed, and treadle cords in a fire, by chance his old Viper looked out of the bed, or the whole house had been gone; up she got, and with her cries alarm’d the neighbourhood who came to her relief, but poor John underwent a dreadful swabing for this.
XI. After the former hurry and beating being over, his work being stopt, he went to bed and sleept a’ that day, and following night, on the next day having nothing to do; she sent him in search of a hen’s-nest, who had taken some by-place to lay her eggs in, so as poor John was in an auld kill searching a’ about the walls, the kill-ribs brake, and down he goes with a vengeance into the logie cutted and bruised himself in a terrible manner, up he could not win, but had to creep out at the logie below, scarcely able to get hame, his face and nose a’ running o’ blood, in this condition she pitied and lamented for him very much, tied his sores and laid him in bed, then sat down very kindly, saying, My dear and my lamb, do ye think there is ony o’ your banes broken, and what part o’ you is sairest? And what will I get to do you good? O! said he Girzy I’m a brizel’d atween the feet; Are ye indeed quoth she, then I wish ye had broken your neck, that I might a gotten anither, useless ae way, and useless mae ways, a po’ my word, ye’s no be here, gang whar ye like.
XII. Now, as poor John was turn’d out o’ doors next morning, to go awa’ hirpling on a staff, one came and told him his Mother had died last night, Oh hoch, said John, and is my Mither clean dead; O an she wad but look down thro’ the lift, and see how I’m guided this morning, I’m sure she wad send death for me too: I’m out o’ a mither, and out o’ a wife, out o’ my health and strength and a’ my warklooms. His mother-in-law came and pleaded for him: haud your tongue, mither, said Girzy, if ye kend what ail’d him, ye wadna speak about him, he’s useless, no worth the keeping in a house, but to ca’ him to die like an auld beast at a dyke-side, hout tout, co’ the auld wife, we’ll mak o’ him and he’ll mend again: so John got peace made up after a’, and he was easier mended than the burnt web; got all his treadles and warklooms set in order the wife’s tongue excepted, which was made of wormwood, and the rest of her body of sea-water, which is always in a continual tempest.