And they wrang their cloathes right drunkily.
"Come thro', come thro', Lieutenant Gordon!
Come thro' and drink some wine wi' me!
For there is an ale-house here hard by,
And it shall not cost thee ae penny."
"Throw me my irons," quo' Lieutenant Gordon;
"I wot they cost me dear aneugh."
"The shame a ma," quo' mettled John Ha',
"They'll be gude shackles to my pleugh."