4
Crap a thegither—startet like ane craz't;
"I loo nae bogle;—but that awfu’night!
"Alack a day!—deed I maun tak' ye'r offer,
"Tho' I am unco fley't;—but wha can help?
"Gif I gang on, that night wad be my dead;
"And come the ghaist, I shall be dead wi' fear!
"Yet I ne'er harm't it, what need it fash me?
"Maybe it winna!"—Now kind Houp came in,
An' a pude drink drave aff ilk dreary thought.
Whan the lang drawlin' gaunt, an' drowsy e'e,
Shaw't bed-time come, he was led up the stair,
(Whare nc'er a fit for monny a day had gane,)
And thro' an entry, lang and ruinous,
Whare at the auld fail't windows the cauld blast
Garr'd Gibby shiver as he gade alang:
"The dore worth-eaten, creakit on its bands,
And in he steppit, irie, leukin' round
To ilka part he thought might ha'd a ghaist;
Aneath, and yont his bed, and up the lum,
But naething cou'd he see warse than himsel'.
A clear peat ingle bleez't on the hearthstane,
Fore gainst whilk Bawty crap, wagging his tail,
Turn'd him about, and laid him knusly down,
Thinkin' of nowther bogles nor the storin.
"Gilbert, gude 'night—soun' sleep an' a blythe mornin',"
Quo' the gudeman—and partin' steek'd the dore.
Girdy said naithing, but look'd wondrous dowf:
Fast as he cou'd howsever into bed
He gat amang the claise, out o'er the lugs,
An' sain’d himsel', an' swat wi' perfect fright:
