Page:Thrummy cap (2).pdf/15

 15                    Says he my friend ye're turning rude, Quoth Thrummy I'll my claim mak good; For here I just before you a'                    The rights o' 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 thing that I wad tell a lie; Then from his pouch the parchments drew, And down upon the table threw. The laird at this up to him ran, And cried whar did you get them man? Syne Thrummy tald him all the tale, As I've tald 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'. Thrummy him thank'd, and syne his gowd Intil a meikle purse he stow'd;                    An' cramm'd it in his oxter pouch, And syne sought out his oaken crutch: Says, Fare ye weel, I maun awa, An see gin I get through the snaw-- Weel, Fare ye weel, replied the laird, But how comes it ye ha'e na shar'd,                    An' gi'en your neibour o' the money?-- Na' by my saul I shan't, quo' Thrummy. As I the siller Sir did win, (To haud in this wad be a sin)