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Poem by Isabel Pagan Muirkirk Light Weights In Muirkirk there lives a taylor, He scrimpit weight for greed of siller; He scrimpit weight, he counts not fair, Till he’s made three hundred pounds and mare. The oldest dealer he did say, What will be said at the last day? The taylor said, ne’er mind the last, If we can but make money fast, There will be large allowance gaun For every dealer in the land. Isabel Pagan Isabel Pagan's other poems:
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