"But gin ye reck na what I swear,
"Go search the biggin[111] thorow,
"And if ye find ae trotter there,
"Then hang me up the morrow."—
They thought to find the stolen gear,
They searched baith but and ben;
But a' was clean, and a' was clear,
And naething could they ken.
And what to think they could na tell,
They glowred at ane anither;—
"Sure, Patie, 'twas the deil himsel
"That ye saw rinning hither.
"Or aiblins Maggie's ta'en the yowe,
"And thus beguiled your e'e."—
"Hey, Robie, man, and like enowe,
"For I ha'e nae rowan-tree."—
Awa' they went wi' muckle haste,
Convinced 'twas Maggie Brown;
And Maggie, ere eight days were past,
Got mair nor ae new gown.
Then Archie turned him on his heel,
And gamesomelie did say,—
"I did na think that half sae weel
"The nourice I could play."
And Archie didna break his aith,
He ate the cradled sheep;
I trow he was na vera laith
Siccan a vow to keep.
And aft sinsyne to England's king
The story he has told;
And aye when he gan rock and sing,
Charlie his sides wad hold.