Whatrax of the seed, where the frendship dow not.
The mother of mischief is na mair nor a midgewing.
It is well said, but who will bell the Cat?
Ane may lead a Horse to the water, but four and twenty cannot gar him drink.
Touch a gall'd Horse on the back and he will fling.
Send, and fetch.
They mense little the mouth, that bites off the nose.
A good fellow tint never, but at an ill fellows hand.
He tint never a Cow, that grat for a needle.
It is a pain both to pay and pray.