An’ he that wadna roose them baith,
Maun be a puir wanwauchtie body.
To Whitcastles I should ha’e gaen,
But weet!—I’ve seldom seen the like o’ ’t—
An’ An’ro swore i’ siccan a rain
He wadna turn a gangrel’s tyke out.
Twae close box-beds, to five big chiel’s,
Presentit scrimp accommodation;
But, “heids an’ thraws, or necks an’ heels,”
They’d haud by An’ro’s invitation.