Page:Thrummy cap (1).pdf/6

 6 To gang; sae quickly aff ye'll steer,

For faith I doubt ye’s nae be here."

“ Twa miles," quo' Thrummy, "de'il speed me

If frae your house this night I gae.

Are we to starve in Christian land?

As lang's my stick bides i' my hand,

An' siller plenty i' my pouch,

To nane about this house I'll crouch.

Come, John, lat's in we'll tak a seat.

Fat sorrow gars you look so blate?”

Sae in he gaes an' sets him down,

Says he--" There's nane about your toun

Sall put me out till a new day,

As lang's I've silver for to pay."

The landlord says—"Ye're rather rash,

To turn you out we sanna fash

Since ye're sae positive to bide,

But troth ye'll sit by the fireside.

I tauld you ance, o'beds I've nane

Unoccupied, except bare ane;

In it, I dread, ye winna lie,

For stoutish hearts ha'e aft been shy

To venture e'en within the room

After the night begins to gloom;

It's haunted by a frightfu' ghaist.

Oursel's are terrified amaist

To bide about the toun a' night;

Sae ye may chance to get a sight,

Like that whilk some o' our folk saw;

Far better till ye gang away,

Or else ye'll maybe rue ere day.”

"Guid faith," quo' John, "I'm thinkin' sae.

Better intil the neuk to sit

Than fley'd, guid keeps! out o' our wit.

The Lord preserve me frae a' evil!