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Which was na fast, but stood a-jee ; Whatever’s there he thinks he’ll see; So bauldly o’er the threshold ventures. And in within the door he enters. But Reader, Judge of the surprise, When there he saw with wondering eyes, A spacious vault, weel stor’d wi’ casks O’ reaming ale, and some big flasks, And stride-legs owre a cask o’ ale, He saw the likeness o’ himself, Just in the dress that he coost aff, A thrummy cap, and aiken staff, Gammashes and the Jockey coat; And in its hand the Ghaist had got A big four-lugged timmer bicker, Fill’d to the brim wi’ nappy liquor. Our hero at the spectre star’d, But neithter daunted was, nor bear’d, But to the Ghaist straight up did step, And says, Dear Brother, Thrummy Cap, The warst ye surely dinna drink, Syne took a Jug, pou’d out the pail, And fill,d it up wi’ the same ale Fra under where the spectre sat, And up the stair wi' it he gat, Took a good drink gae John anither. But never tald him o’ his brither That he into the cellar saw, Mair then he’d naething seen eva. Right brown and nappy was the beer; Whar did you get it, John did spier, Sayes Thrummy, sure you need na care.