8
That Thrummy wakend; and thus spoke,Preserv's ! quotly he, I m like to chockWi' thirst, and I manu hae a drink,I will gang down the stair, I think,And grapple for the water-pail,O for a waught o' caller ale!Johnny grips till him, and says, Na,I winna let you gang awa':Wow will yon gang and leave me hereAlane to die wi perfect fear?Rise and gae wi me then, quoth ThrummyYe senseless, gude-for-naething bummy,I'm only gaen to seek some water,I will be back just iu a clatter.Na na says John I'll rather lie.But as I'm likewise something dryGif ye can get a jug or capFesh up to me a little drap.Ay ay quoth Thrummy that I willAltho ye shouldna get a gill.Sae down he goes to seek a drink,But then he sees a little blinkO'light that shone upon the floorOut throngh the lock-hole o' the door,Which wasna fast but stood a gee,Whatever's, there he thinks he'll see:Sae bauldly o'er the threshold ventures,Then in within the door he enters,But reader judge of the surpriseThat there he saw with wondering eyesA spacious vault well stored wi' casksO' reaming ale and some big flasks,And stride-legs o'er a cask ale utHe saw the likeness oʻhimsel.