For Annan are they boun’.”
“Go, take a dozen o’ my men,
And brattle o’er the lea,
Lay wait, and watch until they pass
The Bowness Witches’ Tree.
“A dozen o’ ye well may lick
Three score o’ English tikes,
Take all they have, and leave them so
To tell o’ this who likes.”
Then Jock banged o’er the broomy knoll,