TAM O'SHANTER.
When chapman billies[[150]] leave the street,
And drouthy[[151]] neebors neebors meet,
As market-days are wearing late
An' folk begin to tak the gate;[[152]]
While we sit bousing at the nappy,[[153]]
An' getting fou[[154]] and unco[[155]] happy,
We think na on the lang Scots miles,
The mosses,[[156]] waters, slaps,[[157]] and styles,
That lie between us and our hame,