II.
Noo a' this leads up to my tale
O' what befell puir Tam MacPhail,
A dacent miner chiel in Fife
Wha led a maist exemplar' life,
An' ne'er abused himsel' wi' liquor,
But took it canny-like an' siccar.
Aye when he cast his wet pit-breeks,
Tam had a gless that warm'd his cheeks;
For as it trickled owre his craigie,
He held it wardit aff lumbaigy.
It wasna that he liked the dram,
'Twas pure needcessity wi' Tam!
But twa years syne-or was it three?-
Tam thocht that he was gaun to dee,
An' Faith! they've often gar'd me grew
By tellin' what I'll tell to you.
III.
The early tatties had come in
When Tammas's besettin' sin,
A love o' a' this warld's gude things
An' a' the pleesures eatin' brings,
Gar'd him hae sic a bad mischeef
It fleggit him ayont belief!
Pay-Saturday it was, I mind,
An' Jean, intendin' to be kind,
Had biled the firstlins o' her yaird
(For naethin' else Tam wud hae sair'd),
Sae when they cam' frae Jean's clean pat,
Altho' they seemed a trifle wat,
Tam in his hunger ate a meal
That wud hae staw'd the big black Deil,
Syne at his cutty had a draw,
Syne gantit wi' wide-open jaw,
An' aince his heid was on the cod,
He sune was in the land o' Nod.
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