The pretty lad turned an interesting shade of rose, and drained his port at one gulp, avoiding my glance.

A pretty lad like you should get to Cramond (which is near in by Edinburgh) in two days of walk.

"Come, my pretty lad, you're coming with me!"

Something to do with the pirates, and the pretty lad on the scaffold.

I'll tell your fortune now, my pretty lad, if you like.

Taken with the pretty lad, are you?

"Best mount your cobbler's mare and go a-jogging back, my pretty lad."

He's a fair pretty lad, isn't he?

And why the Scots, my pretty lads?