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 8 Sae wishin' them a good repose,

Straight then to his ain bed he goes.

Our travellers now being left alane,

'Cause that the frost was nippin' keen,

Coost aff their shoon and warm't their feet,

An' syne gaed to their bed to sleep;

But cowardly John wi' fear was quakin',

He couldna sleep but lay still wakin',

Sae troubled wi' his panic fright.

Whan near the twalt hour o' the night,

That Thrummy waken'd, and thus spoke:

"Preserve's!" quo' he, “I'm like to choke

Wi' thirst, an' I maun ha'e a drink;

I will gae down the stairs, I think,

An' grapple for the water pail;

O! for a waught o' celler ale!”

But Johnny says to him, “Na, na,

I wanna lat ye gang awa;

Wow! will you gang and leave me here

My lane, to die wi' perfect fear?”

“Rise and gae wi' me then," quo' Thrummy,

“Ye senseless guid-for-naething bummy.

I'm only gaun to seek some water,

An' I'll be back just in a clatter."

“Na, na," says John, “I'll rather lie;

But as I'm likewise something dry,

Gin ye can get a jug or cap,

Fetch up to me a little drap."

“Aye, aye," says Thrummy, "that I will,

Although you sudna get a gill."

Sae down he gaes to seek a drink,

An' syne he thinks he sees a blink

O' light, that shone upo' the floor,

Out through the keyhole o' a door,

Whilk was nae fast, but stood ajee;