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Which was na fast; but stood a-jee ; Whatever's there he thinks he'll see : So hauldly o'er the threshold ventures, And in within the door he enters. But, Reader, judge of the surprise When there he saw, with wond'ring eyes, A spacious vault well stor'd wi' casks O' reaming ale, and some big flasks; An’ stride-legs o'er a cask o' ale, He saw the likeness o' himsel. Just in the dress that he coost aff, A thrummy and aiken staff, Gan mashes and the jookey-coat; And in its hand the Ghaist had got A big four-legged timber bicker, Fill'd to the brim wi' happy liquor. Our hero at the spectre stared, But neither aunted was nor car'd But to the Ghaist straight up did step, An' says, Dear brother, Thrummy The warst ye surely dinna drink, So I wi' you will taste I think; Syne took a jugs pou'd out the pail, And fill'd it up wi' the same ale Frae under where the spectre it And up the stair, wi' it he gat; Took a gude, durink, gae John anither; Bu never tald him o' his brither.
