Tam had to rise an' get attour,
For in his bed he couldna' bide
He'd sic a steer in his inside!
The granes o'm waukent faithfu' Jean.
An' then began a bonny scene!
A parritch poultice first she tries,
Het plates on plates she multiplies,
But ilka time his puddens rum'les
A' owre the place Tam rows an' tum'les,
For men in sic-like situations,
Gude kens hae gey sma' stock o' patience!
Yet fast the pain grows diabolic,
A reg'lar, riving, ragin' colic,
A loupin', gowpin', stoondin' pain
That gars the sweat hail doon like rain.
Whiles Tam gangs dancin' owre the flair,
Whiles cheeky-on intil a chair,
Whiles some sma' comfort he achieves
By brizzin' hard wi' baith his nieves;
In a' his toilsome tack o' life
Ne'er had he kent sic inward strife,
For while he couldna' sit, forbye
Like Washington he couldna' lie!

V.
Noo, at lang last his guts was rackit
Till Tam was bullerin' fair distrackit,
An' sune wi' roar succeedin' roar
He fosh in a' the fowk neist door,
An' ane o' them-auld Girsie Broon-