8 But cowardly John wi' fear was quaking, He coudna sleep but still-lay waking, Sae troubled with this panic fright, When near the twelt hour of night, That Thrummy: waken'd, and thus spoke, Preserve's! quoth he, I'm like to choak Wi' thirst, and I maun bae a drink ; I will gang down the stair, I think, And grapple for the water-pail, O for a waught o' caller ale! Johnny grips till him, and says, Na, I winna let you gang awa' : Wow will ye gang and leave me here Alane, to die wi' perfect fear? Rise an' gae-wi' me then, quoth Thrummy, Ye senseless gude for naething bummy, I'm only gaen to seek some water, I will be back just in a clatter Na, na, says John. I'll rather lye, But as I'm likewise something dry, Gif ye can get jag on cap, Fesh up to me a little drap, Ay, ay, quo' Thrummy, that I will, Altho ye sudna get a gill. Sae down he gaes to seek a drink, And then he sees a blink O' light thut shone upo' the floor's, Oat thuo' the lock-hole so the door,
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