Page:Broom of Cowdenknows.pdf/4

Rh Syne ‘Dougal Macgregor’ was painted, In letters o’ gowd o’er the door. Then hey for goupins o’ sneeshin, And hey for whisky galore. A Highlander’s nae sae ill aff, Wha has plenty o’ baith in his store.

But the shop no wi’ Dougal was canny, The whisky and sneeshin were dune; She broke, and the shop it was locket. And she like was to rin frae the town. But no— soon another job got she Within the tolbooth for to dwell; A turnums-key post did they gie her— A post she wad no like hersel’, Oigh! nae prisons nor keys, Nae dungeons for Dougal ava, For ane that she steekit within, She mony times let it out twa.

O’ turnums-key post she now wearied, She lang to set out on some ploy, When just at the iron-door chappit, Her seven times cousin Rob Roy “Wha’s that?— sure her een no be marrow— “Is that the red Gregarach she see? “And if you be catch'd by the bailies “And what wad she do— hone a rie. O muckle mischief to the bailies, And O for less o’ the law! The Highlandman than wad be right, And tak what she likit awa.