We felt indeed that it had; but plucking up sufficient courage for the lords o' Noroway, we cried accusingly,—
"'Ye Scottishmen spend a' our King's gowd.
And a' our Queenis fee!'"
Oh, but Sir Apple-Cheek was glorious as he roared virtuously:—
"'Ye lee! ye lee! ye leers loud,
Fu' loudly do ye lee!
'For I brocht as much white monie
As gane my men and me,
An' I brocht a half-fou o' gude red gowd
Out ower the sea wi' me.
'But betide me weil, betide me wae,
This day I'se leave the shore;
And never spend my King's monie
'Mong Noroway dogs no more.
'Make ready, make ready, my merry men a',
Our gude ship sails the morn.'
Now you be the sailors, please!"
Glad to be anything but Noroway dogs, we recited obediently:—
"'Now, ever alake, my master dear,
I fear a deadly storm!
******
And if ye gang to sea, master,
I fear we'll come to harm.'"
We added much to the effect of this stanza by flinging ourselves on the turf and embracing Sir Patrick's knees, with which touch of melodrama he was enchanted.
