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Then baith came stapping down the stair, The morning now was calm and fair. Weel, says the Laird, my trusty frien', Hae ye ought in your cham'er seen? Quoth Thrummy, Sir, I naething saw That did me ony ill ava. Weel, quo' the Laird, ye now may gang, Ye ken the day's nae very lang: In the mean time its calm and clear, Ye loose your time in biding here. Quoth Thrummy, Sir, mind what I tell, I've mair right here than you yoursels : Sae till I like I here shall bide, The Laird at this began to chide : Says he, my friend, ye're turning rude. Quoth Thrummy I'll my claim make good For here I, just before you a', The Rights of this estate can shaw, And that is mair than you can do. What! quo the Laird, can that be true! 'Tis true, quoth Thrummy, look and see, D'ye think that I would tell a lie. The parchment from his pouch then drew And down upon the table threw, The Laird at this up to him ran, And cry'd where did you get them man. Syne Thrummy tauld him all the tale, As I've tauld you, baith clear and hale. The Laird at this was fidgin fain, That he had gat his rights again ; And fifty guineas down did tell, Besides a present frae himsel.