Page:Comical story of Thrummy Cap and the ghaist (1).pdf/16

16 Thrummy him than'kd an' syne his gowd Intill a muckle purse he stow'd; An' cramm'd it in his oxter pouch, An' syne sought out his aiken crutch; Says, "Fare ye weel, I maun awa, An see gin I get thro' the sna'— “Weel, fare ye well, replied the laird, But how comes it ye hanno shar'd, Or gi'en your neiber o' the money?"— "Na by my saul, I Sir, quo' Thrummy, When I the siller, Sir did win, (To had in this wad be a sin) Afore that I the ghaist had laid, The nesty beast had———the bed. And sae my tale I here do end; I hope no one it will offend, My muse will na assist me langer, The dorty jade sometimes does anger, I thought her ance a gay smart lass, But now she's come to sic a pass That a' my cudgelling and wheeping, Will hardly wake her out of sleeping: To płague her mair I winna try, But dight my pen, and lay it by.