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He coudna see his thumb before him:But, clack—clack—clack, he heard a mill,Whilk led him by the lugs theretil.To tak the thread of tale alang,This mill to Halbert did belang;Not less this note your notice claims,This scholar's name was Master James.
Now, smiling muse, the prelude past,Smoothly relate a tale shall lastAs lang as Alps and Grampian hills,As lang as wind or water-mills.
In enter'd James, Hab saw and kend him,And offer'd kindly to befriend himWith sic good cheer as he cou'd makeBaith for his ain and father's sake.The scholar thought himself right sped,And gave him thanks in terms wiel bred.Quoth Hab, I canna leave my millAs yet;———but step ye west the killA bow-shot, and ye'll find my hame:Gae warm ye, and crack with our dame,'Till I set aff the mill, syne weShall tak' what Bessy has to gi'e.James, in return, what's handsome said,O'er lang to tell; and aff he gadeOut of the house some light did shine,Which led him till't as with a line:Arriv'd, he knock'd, for doors were steekit;Straight thro' a window Bessy keekit,And cries, "Wha's that gi'es fowk a frightAt sic untimeous time of night?"James with good humour, maist discreetly,Tald her his circumstance completely."I dinna ken ye," quoth the wife,"And up and down the thieves are rife;'Within my lane, I'm but a woman,Sae I'll unbar my door to nae man,But since 'tis very like my dow,
