Anonymous

“ Wi's tail a-tween his feet, and shuke his lugs—
Gibby's auld-heart was wae for the dumb brute,
An', loutin' down, he hap't him wi' his plaid,
Clappit his head, and cry'd, "Poor fallow whisht;
"And gif I'm spair't to reach some biggit waws,
"Ye's win as near the ingle as mysel',
"And share my supper too-But we maun on—
"The night grows mirker,—an' nae noon nor starne
"We'll see the night. Sae let us face the blast,
"An' to a stay brae set as stout a heart." ”

“ They would have this young man for Flanders to go.
The Lady she said, Take your hands from my man,
For you shall not press him do all that you can,
Well, well, said the brother, when we come again,
He shall be a soldier for Flanders or Spain. ”

“ Gibby was cauld but when the ghaist was nam'
The sweat brake on him, an' he shook wi' fear.
"Wow Bawty!"—Then he leuk'd without the dore
Loud blew the storm—but then the ghaist-again
The blast fierce blatterin' rattled in his lugs,
His heart play'd dunt wi' monny a dowie thought,—
Hi fidg't—he look bumbaz't—he sain't himsel'
Crap a thegither—startet like ane craz't ”