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 grow verra thick upon the wind, Whilk to their wae they loon did find; A mighty shower o' snaw and drift, As ever dang down frae the lift: Fight wild and boist’rout Boreas roar’d, reserves's, quoth John, we'll baith be smor'd! our trystic end we'll ne'er mak' out, cheer up, says Thrummy, never doubt: owe'er at the neist town we'll stay, util we see gif it grow fair, in no, a night well tarry there, Weel weel, says Johnny, we shall try, Ine they a mansion house did spy Upon the road a piece afore, eup they gade unto the door, There Thrummy chappit wi' his stick, Ine to the door came very quick, meikle dog, who barked fair; it Thrummy for him didna care, He handled weel his oaken staff. And, spite o's teeth he kept him aff, Until the landlord earn to see, and ken sat might the matter be: ken verra soon the dog did cease——— The landlord syne did spier the case, noth Thrummy, Sir, we hae gane wil’ He thought we’d ne’er a house get till; Be near were smor’d amang the drift; and fae gudeman ye’ll mak a shift gie us quarters a this night, If now we dinaa hae the light.