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Tho’ Stirling bagles range about
an’ strive to bring him back,
If e’er they chance to meet with him,
their crowns, I hope, he’ll crack.
What famous fun it was to me,
to see him on the street,
And how he skipt and lap about,
when he gat to his feet!
With hat in hand he did not stand,
till he the guard was past;
He came from liberty at first,
he’s lauded there at last.
Five months they kept him in this hole;
but now they daily mourn,
Because he’s ta’en a flight from them,
and never will return.
The people flock’d to see the hole,
which made the Bailies rage!
A Smith was brought immediately,
to mend the iron cage.
F I N I S
Falkirk — T.Johnston, Printer.