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Till nae langsyne nae mony kent,
That this same laird the rights did want;
But now they hae him at the law,
And the neist week the laird maun shaw;
Before the court the rights o' his land,
This put him to an unco stand,
For if he didna shaw them there,
O' a' his lands he'll be striped bare;
Nae hopes has he to save his state.
This makes him sour and unco blate:
He canna think whar's rights may be,
And ne're expects them mair to see,
But now my friend mark what I tell
And ye'll get something to yoursel.
Tak out the stane there in the wa',
And there ye'll get the leather ba',
Tis just the same as you did see,
When you said that you would help me;
The rights are sewed up in its heart,
But see you dinna wi' them part,
Until the laird shall pay you down
Just fifty guineas and a crown,
Whilk at my death was due to me,
This for thy trouble I'll give thee;
And I'll disturb this house nae mair,
'Cause I'll be free frae all my care.
This Thrummy promised to do,
And syne the Ghaist bid him adieu
And vanished with a pleasant sound
Down through the laft and thro' the ground,
Thrummy gaed back sine to his bed,
And cowardly John was verra glad,
That he his neibour saw ance mair
For of his life he did despair.