"Na," quo' Willie, "we'll him slae."
Then up and spak another young Armstrang,
"We'll gie him his batts,[[174]] and let him gae."
But up and spak the gude Laird's Jock,
The best falla in a' the cumpanie:
"Sit down thy ways a little while, Dickie,
And a piece o' thy ain cow's hough I'll gie ye."
But Dickie's heart it grew sae grit,
That the ne'er a bit o't he dought to eat—
Then was he aware of an auld peat-house,