Page:Murdered minstrel.pdf/18

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Just in the dress that he cast aff,
A thrummy and an aiken staff,
Gammashes and the jockey coat;
And in its hand the Ghaist had got
A big four-legged timber bicker,
Fill'd to the brim wi' nappy liquor,
Our hero at the spectre stared,
But neither daunted was not ear’d,
But to the Ghaist straight up did step,
An' says dear brother Thrummy Cap,
The warst ye surely dinna drink,
So I wi' you will taste I think;
Syne took a jug, pou'd out the pail,
And fill'd it up wi' the same ale.
Frae under where the spectre sat,
And then up stairs wi' it he gat:
Took a gude drink, gae John anither,
But never tald him o' his his brither
That he inta the cellar saw,
Mair than he'd naething seen ava,
Light brown and nappy was the beer
Whar did you get it? John did speir,
Says Thrummy, sure ye needna care,
I'll gae and try and get some mair,
Sae down the stair again he goes.
To get o' drink anither doze
Being positive to hae some mair
But still he faund the Ghaist was there,
Now on a butt behind the door:
Says he, ye didna ill before,
Dear brother Thrummy, sae I'll try
You once again because I'm dry.
He fills his jug straight out below,
An' up the stair again does go.