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" Wilt thou with us in England ride,
And thy safe warrand we will be ? so
If we get a horse worth a hundred punds,
Upon his back that thou shalt be."
" I dare not with you into England ride, The Land-sergeant has me at feid ;
I know not what evil may betide, as
For Peter of Whitfield, his brother, is dead.
" And Anton Shiel, he loves not me,
For I gat twa drifts of his sheep ;
The great Earl of Whitfield loves me not,
For nae gear frae me he e'er could keep. « *
" But will ye stay till the day gae down, Until the night come o'er the grund,
And I'll be a guide worth ony twa That may in Liddisdale be fund.
" Tho' dark the night as pick and tar, 45
I'll guide ye o'er yon hills fu' hie,
38. For twa drifts of his sheep I gat.—P. M.
39. Whitfield is explained by Mr. Ellis of Otterbourne to be a large and rather wild manorial district in the extreme southwest part of Northumberland; the proprietor of which might be naturally called the Lord, though not Earl of Whitfield. I suspect, however, that the reciters may have corrupted the great Ralph Whitfield into Earl of Whitfield. Sir Matthew Whitfield of Whitfield, was Sheriff of Northumberland in 1433, and the estate continued in the family from the reign of Richard II. till about fifty years since.—S.