To my dismay, there was Mrs.Mitchell coming towards the farm.

I possessed my wits sufficiently to run first to Kirsty's press and secure a good supply of oatcake, with which I then sped like a hunted hare to her form.

I had soon drawn the stopper of straw into the mouth of the hole, where, hearing no one approach, I began to eat my oatcake, and fell asleep again before I had finished.
And as I slept I dreamed my dream.

The sun was looking very grave, and the moon reflected his concern.

They were not satisfied with me.