And down the Tollbooth stairs came he;
Out then spak Dickie and said,
Let some o the weight fa on me;
‘O shame a ma!’ co Jokie Ha,
‘For he’s no the weight of a poor flee.’
16
The gray mare stands at the door,
And I wat neer a foot stirt she,
Till they laid the links out oer her neck,
And her girth was the gold-twist to be.