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Him by the sark-tail John did haud, Ly still, quoth he, fat, are ye mad? Thrummy then gaed a hasty jump, And took John on the ribs a thump, Till on the bed he tumbled down, In little better than a swoon, While Thrummy fast as he could rin, Set aff to see what made the din. The chamber seem'd to him as light. As gif the sun were shining bright ; The Ghaist was stanen at the door, In the same dress he had afore; And o'er anent it, at the wa', Were ither apparitions twa. Thrummy beheld them for a wee, But deil a word as yet spake he: The spirits seem'd to kick a ba', The Ghaist against the other twa; Whilk close they drave baith back & fore, Atween the chimla and the door. He stops a while and sees the play. Syne, rinnin up, he this did say, Ane for ane may weel compare, But twa for ain is rather sair; The play's na equal, say I vow, Dear brother Thrummy, I'll help you. Then wi' his fit he kicked the ba', Gard it play stot against the wa':
