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Our travellers now being left alane, ‘Cause that the frost was nipping keen. Coost aff their shoon and warin’d their feet And syne gaed to their beds to sleep. But cowardly John wi' fear was quacking, He couldna sleep but still lay waking, Sae troubled wi’ his panic fright, When hear the twait hour o’ the night, That Thrummy waken’d and thus spbke Preserve’s quoth he I’m like to choak; Wi’ thirst an’ I maun hae a drink, I will gang down the stair I think, An’ grapple for the water pail— O for a waught o’ cawler ale. Johnny, grips him, and says na, I winna let ye gang awa, Wow will ye gang and saye me here Alane to die wi perfect fear? Rise and gae wi’ me then says Thrummy Ye senseless guid-for naething bummy; I’m only gaun to seek some water, I will be back just in a clatter Na, na, says John I’ll rather ly, But as I’m likewise something dry, Gin ye can get a jug or cap Fetch up to me a little drap. Ay, ay quo Thrummy that I will, Although you sudna get a gill. Sae down he goes to seek a drink And then he thinks he sees a blink O light, that shone upon the floor,' Out thro’ the lock hole o’ the door.