"Come here, come here, Willie," she said,
"And set yoursel' wi me; 50
I hae seen you i' better days,
And in jovial companie."
"Gie me a sheave o' your bread, nourice,
And a bottle o' your wine,
And I'll pay you it a' ower again, 55
When I'm the laird o' Linne."
"Ye'se got a sheave o' my bread, Willie,
"And a bottle o' [my wine],
An' ye'll pay me when the seas gang dry,
But ye'll ne'er be heir o' Linne." 60
Then he turn'd him richt and roun' about,
As will as woman's son;
And aff he set, and bent his way,
And straightway came to Linne.
But when he cam to that castle, 65
They were set doun to dine;
A score o' nobles there he saw,
Sat drinkin' at the wine.
Then some bad' gie him beef, the beef,
And some bad' gie him the bane; 70
And some bad' gie him naething at a',
But lat the palmer gang.
Then out it speaks the new come laird,
A saucie word spak' hee;
"Put roun' the cup, gie my rival a sup, 75
Lat him fare on his way."
Then out it speaks Sir Ned Magnew,
Ane o' young Willie's kin;
"This youth was ance a sprightlie boy
As ever lived in Linne." 80
He turned him richt and roun' about,
As will as woman's son;
Then minded him on a little wee key,
That his mither left to him.
His mither left him this little wee key 85
A little before she deed;
And bad him keep this little wee key
Till he was in maist need.