Thrummy Cap,
IN ancient times, far i' the north,
A hunder miles ayont the Forth,
Upon a stormy winter day,
wa men forgather'd on the way,
A ne was a sturdy bardoch chiel.
An’ frae the weather happit weel
Wi’ a mill'd plaiding jockey coat,
And eke he on his heal had got,
A thrum my cap baith large and stout,
Wi' flaps ahint as weel's a snout,
Whilk button’d dote aneath his chin,
To keep the cauld frae getting in.
Upon his legs he had gammalhes,
Whilk sodgers term their spatterdashies,
And on his hands instead o' glo’es,
Large doddy mittens whilk he’d roofie
For warmness, and an aiken slick,
Mae terra lang, but unco thick,
Intil his nieve; he drave awa’,
And car’d for neither frost nor snaw.
The tither was just the reverse———
O’ claise and courage baith was scarce:
Sae in our tale as we go on,
I think we’ll ca’ him cowardly John.
Sac on they gade at a gude scow’r
Cause that they saw a gath’rin shower
