8
That Thrummy waken’d, and thus spoke,
Preserve’s! quoth he, I’m like to choak
Wi’ thirst, and I maun hae a drink;
I will gang down the stair, I think,
And grapple for the water-pail,
0 for a waught o’ caller ale!
Johnny grips till him, and says, Na,
1 winna let you gang awa’:
w ow will ye gang and leave me here
Alane, to die wi’ perfect fear?
Rise an’ gae wi’ me then, quoth Thrummy,
Ye senseless gude for naething bummy,
I’m only gaen to seek some water
I will he back just in a clatter.
Na, na, says John, I’ll rather lye,
But as I’m likewise something dry,
Gif ye can get jug or cap,
Fesh up to me a little drap.
Ay, ay, quo’ Thrummy that I will,
Altho’ ye sudna get a gill.
Sae down he gaes to seek a drink,
And then he sees a blink
O’ light, that shone upo’ the floor,
Out thro’ the lock-hole o’ the door,
Which was na fast, but stood a-jee;
Whatever’s there he thinks he’ll see:
So bauldly o’er the threshold ventures,
And in within the door he enters.
But, Reader, judge of the surprise,
When there he saw, with wond’ring eyes,
A spacious vault well stor’d wi’ casks
O’ reaming ale, and some big flasks,
An’ stride-legs o’er a cask o’ ale,
He saw the likeness o’ himsel.
