XXIII
Then Dickie was ware of an auld peat-house,
Where a’ the night he thought for to lye—
And a’ the prayers the puir fule pray’d,
Were, ‘I wish I had mends[1250] for my gude three kye!’
Then Dickie was ware of an auld peat-house,
Where a’ the night he thought for to lye—
And a’ the prayers the puir fule pray’d,
Were, ‘I wish I had mends[1250] for my gude three kye!’