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SKETCHES

K^o'T \K) 'sA^ A ' t?:t>-5i

AND

ANECDOTES

ANDREW WAiSLESS,

Author of " Poems and Songs," Etc.

• John Tainsons wallet frae hut to hen.
Whiffinaleeries for women and men/"

DETROIT. MICH.:
PrBMRHED BY Andrbw Wanlehs. No. 1.5 Orand Riveb Avbnuc.

1891.

fi^*'

^versitas

S^ BIBLIOTHECA

t:dv .•>!■'-

:*m.

:<f^,-

Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1R91, by

A. VVANLESS.
In the office of the Librarian of Cons^ress at WaRhington.

WM. F. MOORK. PRINTER,
DETROIT,

Detroit, November, 1891.

i R i

(. ..

';■ f

TO
HERBERT BOWEN, Eh<^ ,

THEHE

•SKETCHES ANIi ANECDOTES

ARE

RESPECTFL'LL V DEDICATED

BY THE

AUTHOR.

lY.

• SHE LIKED HIM RALE WEEL.

The spring had brought out the greeu leaf ou tlie trees,
And the flow'ra were unfalding their sweets to the bees,
When Jock says to Jenny, " Come. Jenny, agree,
And just say tlie bit word that ye'll marry me."
She held down her head like a lily sac meek,
And the blush o' the rose fled awa frae her cheek,
And she said, " Gang awa, man ! your head's in a creel."
She didna let on that she liked him rale wed.

Aye ! she liked him rale weel,

O ! she liked him rale weel,
But she didna let on that she liked him ral'' weel.

Now Jock says, " Oh, Jenny, for a twalmoiith and mair.
Ye ha'e kept me just hanging 'tween hope and despair,
But, Oh ! Jenny, last night something whispca'd to me—
That I'd better lie down at the dyke side and dee."
To keep Jock in life, she gave in to be tied,
And soon they were book'd, and three times llicy were cried ;
Love danced in Jock's heart, and hope joined the reel ;
He was sure that his Jenny did like him rale weel.

Aye ! she liked him rale weel,

Oh ! she liked him rale weel.
But she never let on that she liked him rale weel.

When the wedding day cam', to the manse they did stap.
At the door they gat welcome frae Mr. Dunlap,
Wha chained them to love's matrimonial stake ;
Syne they a' took a dram and a mouthfu' o' cake.
Then the minister said, "Jock, be kind to your Jenny,
Nae langer she's tied to the string o' her Minnie ;
Noo, Jenny, will ye aye be couthie and leal V "
"Yes, sir," simper'd she, "for I like him rale weel."

Aye ! she liked him rale weel,

O ! she liked him rale weel ;
Quo' he, " That's but nat'ral, to like him rale weel."

PREFACE.

/pEGARDING the following "Sketches and Anecdotes." it
was my primary design, after each, to trace the derivation
and attempt to explain the old and obsolete words that are tlicn.*-
in introduced. This plan, on second consideration, was laid
aside, thinking that, if adopted, it would cumber the pages with
matter uninteresting to the general reader.

From my early years, the old, (juaiut Scotch words and sayings
have had a peculiar charm. These words and phrases of the ohi
people, iu lowly life, I took delight to harbor in my memory.
In my leisure moments these were written down in much the
same manner as they fell from the lips of the narrators.

A few of these "Sketches and Anecdotes" have already
appeared in "The Scottish American," "The Detroit Free Press,"
and "The Detroit Evening News." A number of them, how-
ever, appear in this collection for the first time.

It has been the practice of several Scottish Authors to prefix
to their works a few doleful sentences on the decay of tlje
Scottish language and literature. Regarding this, I am of a
contrary opinion. The patriotic words, the manly phrases and
the witty remarks, will, I have no doubt, be ever cherished and
appreciated by my countrymen, and by those of kiudred
nationalities.

ANDREW WANLESS.

:\i

OONTKISITS.

A Bad End 28

AChange 1H«

A ChriHtian Country 106

A Close Call ISW

Action and Re-action iM

A Dog Fight no

ADrapo' Yon 880

A Faithful Wife a85

A Fearful Struggle 8«

A Fine Sensation mi

AFineStart 104

A Fine Feast 75

A Fractious Horse loa

A Freak of Nature 151

Againiit Revolutions HO

A Grand View !W

A Great Threat 1»J

A Hoi Night... 181

A Jovial Soldier. 48

A Kiss 88

A l^miiieriiioor ( 'lit'ese 18

A Lainineniioor Legend 85

A l^ss und a Luiitcrn 17

A Lay of Ablu'y St. Bathiins 804

A legend uf Selkirk 73

Almost Wl

A Melancholy Cow Wt

A Merciful Dispensation 138

A Mistake 118

Andrew and Maggie 38

An Exploring Expedition 85

A Nicht wi' Robin 83

A Poor Excuse 89

A Poor Investment 188

A Proud Man 31

A Queer Kettle 108

Are Your Own Skirts Clear r 118

A Round of Swearing 36

A Sad Mistake 98

AStout Heart 188

A Wet Weaver 119

AWish 119

Babby Bell and Jock Reid lOd

Before She Began 79

Better BeSure 101

Betty Blair's Courtship. 187

BltoAboot. 878

Konnte Maggie Graham 81(1

Bring Me WHuit Ye Like mt

Bring the ('aniplior Iii9

Brothers and Sisters 808

Burning Up M

Cauld Weather 186

( 'elebrating the Fourth 177

Come Hame W

Consolation Rejected 186

Culloden 180

Curing a Fat Wife 113

Doing His Best 108

Eating Words m

Eleven ConimaiidMD'nts. .... 148
Everybody's Here 90

Fair Weather 41

False Historians \M

Fare Ye Well 40

Finis 300

Francie Dewar M

FulM Irey hounds 80

(iaiig. Mr. Brisbane 115

General tJrant Ill

Generalship 19

(Jill, S<"ott und the Ventril)H|uist . W
Go Home 175

Half Hanged Maggie 154

Have ye Gotten any Siller r 131

Have ye ony Bawhet-s •« 84

Heads to Discourses .87

He had the Lumbago 98

He's Nobody 81

He Stood ond Groaned 97

He Took Several Cheerers 68

He Uncovered His Head 44

Hiding the Teapot 85

His Age 71

His Sign Board 81

Home, Sweet Home. 63

Hope 85

Hot Weather 813

How Changed are the Times 898

CO.NTFNTf".

vH.

iKTiorancf in BIIm «'-!

I'll Bnrk M.vs*»If W

ni Tnk«' li L.K.U at Him 71

I'll Take ^ fiiir Mcnsiin' 'J<i

Importcil mill Kxporti'*! 7ft

In and Ont 190

InformntidM Wanted lan

\h Your Honor ii Vri^st * 134

I Wish YhW.-II 1f*7

I Wnn<I.T In Mnnr Ye. '-{72

.Tamos Thomson IftS

.l«>an (lorflon'H PorriflK*"-P'it . Iftl

JeanJf Deans 188

Jpanio's f 'oiuin' 138

John and Will .152

John Arnotts Bairns 17ft

John «lass 'J»

John MfWait and Jean MrRa»' .17H
Johnni»' Artnstroii}; 'M

Keep Your K«'ttl»' 14

lj\mini«'loo W

Let Him l.fioSH. W

Love Rick l.V>

May Hf'aven Fru-jrive Him 4!i

McCallmii iuid the SVitch 2T4

Mr. and -Mrs*. Tainaon 26fl

Mrs. Sherlock liio

Mud ami Huat 140

My Beantiful Tulips 87

My Bonnie Bairn 88.S

My Jennie . . . . 70

My Lov»> 41

Natural Wool 1S»

Nell Prondfoot Sflfi

Never Botlier a Sick Shoemaker . 05

Never Marry a Widow 12ft

No Earthly .Toy 27

No Expericiioc . . 5fi

No Relation 88

NoStrenKtli 65

Nothing Ct-rtain 67

Nothing Li^t't 65

Now and Tlu-n 113

O. Lucy, will ye Ganjf wi" Me y . . . 44

Ord, the Circus Man 286

Otherwise Engaged 168

Outs and Ins of Matrimony 297

Palmer'n Exhibition .

I'afrlotlBm 13

Pay on Delivery . ..lOft

Revii'wing the Circumstances 'JOfc
U»'v. .lohn Brown and Kcrgusnon 28i>

Roherf Tannaliill 72

Uohin 81

Rf .use Him Up 15«

Sandy's Well 215

Say NoSlfire 81

Scotland 117

Shakespeare 107

She Liked Him Rale Weel 4

She I^st Her Wig 124

She Pursed Up Her Lips 179

Shoot Him fanny Ml

Sir Walter Scott M

Sir Walter Scott's r»rinking-ciip 1ft

Something Worst* 8fi

Spigot and TMn 104

Steadfast Love 30

Stf>ne Masons Wanted ft9

Stop 8

Strength of Will «7

Strike the Iron 109

Sweel Belle Isle 105

Sweetest Flower 88

Taken Apart OS

The Auld Sangs 217

The Banks o" Doon 866

The Black Douglas 91

The Burning o' the Breoks . 2.59

The Church Bell 80

The Coming of the Robin 185

The Cutting of the Corsets Ill

The Daft Days 198

The Downfall of the Stove 280

The Drouthy Year 231

The Fairies 103

The First Bite 12

The Giant of St. Abbs 169

The Horrors of War 184

The Judge Laugh«-d .')7

The I,a88ie wi" Lint-white Locks.. 17

The Last Man 8

The Liberty of the Press 62

The Links o" Love 168

The Miller's Daughter 1.30

The Minister and the Man 282

The Power of Snuff 194

Tlil

CONTENT*.

-r

Th*' Road to Matrimony 80

The Rung and Mnuff Curo 181

TIh- Harnirt Tunnel 8M

Tho Hpiiinlnfr Wheel M

Thf S(or.v of I'rlnee Charles . . 832

The Hwmi of Avon. 4V

The Town of Wyandotte ?O0

The W/iHhiitK Day Hft

Tin- Wc(i|>on Kfll IRT

Tlu' WliiHth' Bl.'W »»

The Wife of Tjiniiiiermnor 1»W)

The Wooden Ia'h 141

The Wronjf Kcnl 21

They Keliimefl In a Hurry lOS

TlionmH (.'aniphcll 87

Too Dear ]|g

Tw«t Love T>ettent iffi

Upward Teart 88

What Are Ye Dolnjc Here * 138

What He Hafffred 148

Widow Nailor 77

Wives Can po No Wronj? 801

Women in our Honrn of Kase . lOrt

Working the Oracle ;«)

Wor«l of All 87

You May Go HO

You Shall Have It 75

Yoiith vs. Age IBS

THE LAST MAN.

A fUtwn tlif strf'ot .ludpp Winder camp.

And he had his pold specks on.
And there he met, a-comlnff up,

His old friend William Jackson.

Quoth William " How's the Judge, this morn '/

Quoth he " I'm worse than ill :
Ah, me, I see by slow deirrecs

I'm creepin/r down the hill.

"Last night, as on my bed I lay,

The thought did me astound,
That soon not one ^ood man will l»e

Alive above the ground."

STOP.

John Cranky was a wee bit man.

Knack-kneed and bent twa fauld ;
He had a wife, and by my faith,

She was baith big and bauld.

A(! day he opened out on her
When she was at the washing.

And he wi' waspish words ga'e lier
A virulent tongue-lasbing.

She looked and said "Just stop your yaff;

If ye no stop it soon
I'll ram ye head-lang in the kirn

And dash the dasher doon. "

f.t

SKETCHES AND A^TXDOTES.

PALMER'S KXIIIBITION.

SoriH' folk iniiy sing 'bout dove-cved piw't'.

And sotiu- 'bout strife and war.
AikI some about a iiiaid or wife

May Htrikc the lijj;ht guitar,
And some may write 'IvmU moons and ntars

To show tiieir i rudition.
But as for me, I'll sing wi' pith

'Bout Palmer's exhibition.

We sent Tom Palmer 'cross the sea,

Unto a place called Spain,
But ev'rything went wrong, so we

Recalled him back again:
The bungling blockheads in New York

Are no worth recognition.
The deil a ane o' them could run

Columbia's exhibition!

Tom Palmer is a marvelous man,

He's travele<l many lands,
And tongues of many nations he

Has at his linger ends ;
The Spanish. Welsh, the French and Dutch,

Hindoo and the Chinese,
These he can write and also speak

With purity and ease.

So back our Tom has come again,

Dispelling our distress.
And our Columbian Fair he'll make

A great and grand success.
From polar seas he'll bring a whale

In a first-class condition.

And horses, mules and mares will grace

Tom Palmer's exhibition.
2

SKETCHES AND AN'ECDOTES.

P'rom England he'll import roast beef.

From Scotland mountain dew,
From Ireland milk and blarney-stones,

Poteen and Irish stew;
And heathen gods and i^oddesses.

From hinds of superstition,
Will all be seen for fifty cents

At Palmer's exhil)ilion.

From sunny south he will express,

From Uncle Sam's estate,
Tobacco, alligators, rice,

The orange and the date.
The breeches bible will be seen,

And the revised edition;
These Ingersoll will lecture frum

At Palmer's exhibition.

Cows, sheep, and dogs, hogs, hens and cats

Will all be gather'd there,
Likewise the foumart and the fox,

The badger and the bear;
The feather'd songsters will display

Their wonderful tuition,
And sing with mellow note their songs

At Palmer's exhibition.

A female elephant lie'll bring

From India's coral strands.
But oh, we pray that she will not

Be left upon his hands.
The fishes of the mighty deep

In all their varied ranks.
Will ply their fins, and siiake their tails

In countless tubs and lank^^.

The hurdy-gurdy, kettle-drum,

The bagpipe and bassoon,
The bugle and the hunting-horn

Will all be played in tune ;
And ladies rare will sing and dance,

Bedecked in rich attire;
Wae's me! their charms, I more than dread,

Will set our hearts on tire!

SKBTCIIES AXD ANECDOTES.

Volcjinic stones, and peat, and ttirf

In their progressive stages,
Will there be seen, with dates to prove

And certify their ages.
A Ciinnon from the wars he'll show

That once wrought devastation,
He'll on it mount, and Peace will smile

With pleasing approbation.

Beds, sheets and blankets will be there,

And wooden work in plenty,
A spinning-wheel I'm boumi to show

That I got from my aunty ;
It« tiraper-pin, its leg is broke.

The bairnies iiave abused it,
But wha'll expect 'twould be as good

As when my aunty used it ?

My aunty's spinning-wheel calls up

A routh o' sad reflections.
But what's the use, I sometimes think,

Of grievous recollections.
Oh! if my uunty was alive,

I'd bet my head o' hair
I'd take her in a Pullman car

To Thomas Palmer's fair.

The exhibition will be rich,

In articles of yore,
Upon a nail will hang the breeks

That our tirst parent wore :
His tartan plaid, and guid (jlaymo're,

And if accounts are truf.
We'll see Miss Eva's brid-il bed,

And also her trousseau.

Since writing the above I've heard,

But maybe it's a lee.
That Gladstone witii a load o' chips

Is coming o'er the sea.
That Parnell, 'Brien and Balfour

Have not gone to perdition.
But they will visit Uncle Sam—

And Palmer's exhibition.

WJ fil

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

Jim Blaine will meet the " Grand Old Man,"

And under Tom's direction,
The twa will have a grand set-to

'Bout free trade and protection.
My certy! how these two old rooks

Will crow and rug and rive,
To see the sport, loshi how I wish

My aunty was alive!

My grannie writes frae Scotland's isle

That if her life is spar'd,
She'll bring a cart o' curly greens

Frae out her aiii kail-yard,
And eke a spade, a harl and grap<%

A milksythe and a churn,
And a Lochaber axe that Bruce

Had used at Bannockburn!

Now all ye people far and near,

Just keep the date in view.
The exliibition will begin

In eighteen-ninety-two;
And I'll be there, if I am spar'd,

And give the folk a sneeshin'
< )' good Scotch snuff from ray snuff-box

At Palmer's exhibition.

THE FIRST BITE IS THE WORST.

William Ilardie was born in Hawick, Scotland, and
inherited a very strong constitution. He emigrated to
Detroit, and to use a vulgar phrase he had a stomach
that could digest^horse nails. He fell sick and when in
bed his appetite fairly left him. To wile his appetite
back, one day, Mrs. Hardie roasted a chicken to a turn
and took it to his bedside. '* Take it awa," cried Wil-
liam, " my stomach has become sic a coward it winna
even fight wi' a chicken." " Tuts," said she, " what non-
sense, tak' it by the leg and try and eat a bit. Come
away now and fa' to — the first bite is aye the warst."

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

PATRIOTISM.

In the year 1803, great perplexity and wrath prevail-
ed in Scotland. The cry arose that the French were on
the eve of invading her shores. The beacon fires blazed
on the hills, and her Volunteers rallied to the cry *'Wha
dare middle wi' me ? " The following lines from the
popular song entitled " Symon and Janet," point out
that every man and mother's son were prepared to strike
determined and dexterous blows for liberty and for
their native land : —

"O, Symon, the F'renchies are landed,

Come quick man and slip on yer shoou ;
Our signals I see them extended
Like red rising rays frae the moon."
" Hoot ! cheer up, dear Janet be hearty.
For ere the next sun may gang down,
Wha' kens but I'll shoot Bonaparte,
And end my auld days in renown. "

The Dunse Volunteers gathered to a man, and they
made the welkin' ring to the old war-cry — "Dunse
dings a'." Armed to the teeth they took the turnpike
road for Haddington, and as they were passing the
romantic village of Longformacup, out from her house
rushed Jean Carpenter, wi' a red het poker in her hand.
On observing this Rab Dale roars out to her — " Jean,
for the love o' heaven, gang into the hoose, and we'll do
our best to kill a' the Frenchmen without the assistance
o' your weapon." "Na, na!" quo' she, "I'll no back
out. I'll kilt my coats and gang alang wi' ye." Wi'
this she flourished the poker over her head, and wi'
patriotic fervency exclaimed — "Rab! I canna fecht
muckle, but blast the French deevils, I will let them see
which side I am on."

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

i' 1

KEEP YOUR KETTLE.

The tea-kettle is the grandest musical instrument in
the Scottish household. When it begins to sing, a pleas-
ing smile overspreads the faces o' the auld and the
young o' baith sexes. If it could speak as well as it can
sing, it could tell mony a strange story. And I may
venture to remark that if these stories were printed into
books they wad fill the Detroit Public Library up to the
very rafters. Ae night Ruben Tamson waited on Miss
Mysie Jobson — a lass who had a bit property left to her
by her grandfather, auld Saunders Jobson, wha spent
the bulk o' his days as a cowfeeder, and wha died o' the
cholera at Haddington in the year 183.3. Now Ruben
gae'd to Mysie on nae needless errand, for it was his
design to ask her hand, and, if she didna' resist, they
wad gang to the minister and get married forthwith and
forever. Ruben sat doon and the kettle sang and sang,
but she never as much as asked him if he had a mouth.
By this Ruben saw which way the land lay. Like an
uninvited guest he sat upon thorns. He found that hope
was a guid breakfast but an unco bad supper, and wi' as
guid a grace as he could pit on he bade Mysie fareweel.
Now, Ruben was a local poet o' some celebrity, and next
mornin' he sent her a letter which was thus addressed,
" Post haste — to Miss Mysie Jobson," and it contained
the following : —

Your kettle hings and sings awa

Most pleasant to the view, mem,
My faith ! I'd sooner hear its sang

Thau hear a sang frae you, mem.

Last night I sat upon your chair

Bamboozled and neglected,
While I, to say the very least,

A cup o' tea exiiected.

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

Ye lookit east, ye lookit west,
Ye lookit north, and south, mem ;

Ye glower'd at me as if I had
Been born without a mouth, mem.

Sue soon as 1 had turned my back

I truly do believe, mem,
That ye sat doon and drank your tea

And snieker'd in your sleeve, mem.

But, I hu'e sworn a deadly uith,

A deatlly aith is it, mem,
That on another chair o' yours

Again I'll never sit, mem.

When night comes on, wi'your* ain liands

Ye may tie on your pirnie.
And gang to bed, or ye may gang

For me to Hecklebirnie.

Away wi' houses, land and gear —
The harbingers o' strife, mem,

Instead of them may heaven grant
To me a loving wife, mem.

I ken a lass up in the glen
And she's excelled by nane, mem,

111 bring her hame, and soon we'll ha'<.*
A kettle o' our ain, mem.

Wi' cauld disdain ye treated me.

Yet still I wish ye well, mem,
But by my saul ye e'en may keep

Your kettle to yoursel', mem.

I've written thus on this braid page

To let ye understand, mem,
That I have given her my heart,

And soon she'll ha'e my hand, mem.
On Monday night I will be wed,

Aud if ye are in fettle,
Ye e'en may come and see my bride —

Her yetlin' pot and kettle.
And now I lay aside my pen.

As I've no more to say, mem.
But this, farewell, Mysie, farewell.

Farewell for night and day, mem !

.i!

SKETCHES AND AXECDOTKS.

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SIR WALTER SCOTT'S DRINKING-CUP.
Tom Purdie, as is well kno\yn, was Sir Walter Scott's
faithful attendant in the da^-^s of his joys and of his
sorrows. Shortly before the death of that good and
great man, he presented Tom with a silver drinking-cup.
After Tom's death, this cup remained in the possession
of his widow, who resided in a small cottage on the
Abbotsford estate, Robert Howden, who was born and
brought up in Galashiels, but who is now a residenter of
Detroit, relates to me the following : " About the year
1836, twa or three o' my acquaintances and masel' took
it into our heads to gang and see auld Mrs, Purdie.
We gaed into her house and we found her sitting at the
fireside toasting her taes. She was unco fat — she was
like a sack tied in the middle, and as braid as she was
lang. She warsled up, and she ga'e a guid natured
laugh, and she said, ' I ken what ye want, ye vagabonds
that ye are. Ye didna come to see me — ye cam' to get
a drink oot o' Sir Walter's drinking-cup, and that ye will
get wi' perfect guid will.' After we had a' gotten a
drink, she raised her hands and said, 'Mycerty! cal-
lants, ye ought to be proud — ye ne'er gat sic' a drink in
a' your born days. My certy ! ye ought to be maiu
than proud that ye ha'e gat mouths to drink oot o' Sir
Walter's drinking-cup ! '"

A GREAT THREAT.
John Broadwood had a son wha was the ring-leader
o' a' mischief. Ac day John says to him — " Now, Rob-
bie, I see that ye winna behave j'erser a' that I can say
or do, but the next time ye mis-behave yersel' I will get
the loan o' Tinker Turn's cuddy-ass, and I will pit ye on
the back o't, and I will mak' baith yours and the
cuddy's ears stand up on the perpendicular."

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

A LASS AND A LANTERN

In the days o' my prime when I lived wi' my mitlior,

My lieart and my foot were as light as a feather;

My father was gane, and he left me his heir

Sac we'd uaething to do but to till and fetch mair.

My mither grew sick, and sair she did grieve

When she heard I was courting the daugliters o' Eve,

Losh me, how she raved when she heard I gade saunteriu'

At the dead hours o' night wi" a lass and a lantern.

She glunched and siie gloomed and siie said in her spite

That the wiles o' the women wad kill me outright;

But dule to the day when away she was ta'en.

For the like o' my mither I'll ne'er see again.

I remembered her words and I siglied and I said,

That Betsey, for me, may die an auld maid;

But strange to relate again I gade saunterin*.

At the dead hours o' night wi' my lass and a lantern!

" Dear Betsy," says I, " Oh, take care of your feet.
Look out for tlio ghiur and the wind and the weet,"
Then my heart would be tilled wi' the fondest delight
When she'd say " never mind, ye may blaw oot the light."
I'd blaw oot the light, and 01 how sae fain
I'd kiss her sweet lips and ca' her my aiu ;
She now is my ain, and nae mair I gang saunterin'
At the dead hours o' night wi' a lass and a lantern.

THE LASSIE WI' THE LINT WHITE LOCKS.

John Howell, an aged Scotchman, informed me that
he was at one time acquainted with one of the idols of
Burns, the poet — "The Lassie wi' the Lint White
Locks." She was then cook at the Armandale Arras
Inn, in Moffat, but alas ! all her beauty of face and form
had departed. Instead of the lint white locks, her head
was covered with a wig of extraordinary dimensions.
" O, man," said John, " when she spak o' Burns the
tears ran down her withered cheeks. Losh, man, it was
waesome to look at her. Time had wrought upon her

SK£TCUBS AXD ANECDOTES.

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wonderful changes. If Burns bad risen frae the dead
he wadna' ha'e kent her. She was, I trow, a queer
lookin' body. I never can get her image oot o' my mind.
Her appearance sticks to me like a burr. Man! I can
see her now standin' afore rae just as plain as a pike-
staff. I said to her, * Ma woman, will you take a dramV*
* I wat I will,' quo' she, and wi' this we baith drank to
the memory o' Burns. Then to cheer her up I sang
over the following:

" Lassie wi' the lint white locks,
Bonnie lassie, artless lassie,
AVilt thou wi' me tent the Hocks,
Wilt thou be my dearie, O?"

But nothing would cheer her up. 8he lookit doon to
the floor. She shook her head. She raised her hand
and — pointed to her wig."

A LAMMERMOOR CHEESE.

"Does your honour like cheese? " said Jennie. "Like if." said the Duke,
"cakes and cheese are a dinner for an Emperor, let alone a Highlandman."

Some folk mak' a meltith o' tatties and saut,
Home kitchen their brose wi' a sirple o' maut;
Awa wi' sic dainties! bring me if ye please
A trencher o' scones, and a Lammermoor cheese.

Some folk ha'e owre little, some fill and fetch mair,
Yet blessings are parted — ilk ane has their share,
But the loon should be lash'd till he fa's on his knees.
Wha wadna' say graioe owre a Lammermoor cheese.

When my banes are a' suir wi' the dargs o' the days,
And at the fireside I sit toasting my tues,
There's naething gies comfort, or brings me mair ease,
Than a whang frae the croon o' a Lammermoor cheese!

When hanuss'd wi' the cares and the clashes o' life,
I'll fight wi' my shadow, and glunch at my wife;
But we soon get as sweet as twa hlnnybees,
When gustin' our gabs on a Lammermoor cheese.

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTEK.

When a hairnie oam' bame, and the doctor awa,
And the neighbours a' round ga'e a canny bit ca',
My certy! our hearts were set up wi' a lieeze,
Wlien they praised tlie wee pet— and— tlie Laninicrnioor
cheese.

A bit cheese in their pockets the young hisces stow,
And at night syne they place it 'neath pillow and pow;
Then they dream, and they dream, till their heads arc

a-blceze
Bout sweethearts, and kirks, and a Lammermoor cheese!

There's poor Jennie Deans, wha to London gaed south.
To speak to Argyle wi' her ain word o' mouth;
When her purpose was gained, quo' she " if you please,
Wad yer honour accept o' a Lammermoor cheese?"

" Ho, lassie," quo' he, "I'm content wi' my brose —
An auld Scottish sang, and a tsneesh for my nose,
Yet fain I wad be if my loof ye wad grease,
Wi' twa or three stane o' your Lammermoor cheese!"

Then here's to auld Scotland, her hills and her dales.
And here's to her bowies, her bickers, and pails,
May she aye ha'e a bannock o" barley or pease.
And to crown my best wishes — a Lammermoor cheese!

GENERALSHIP.

Some years ago Mr. George Roy, Glasgow, published
a work called " Generalship." In this work he con-
tended that married wives betrayed mair generalship
than was betrayed by either the Duke o' Wellington or
Napoleon Bonaparte. Wordsworth says — " That the
boy is father of the man," but I say that the maiden
fair is frequently mother o' the mother; but to illustrate.
Ae mornin' Lucky Mackay says to her daughter — " Noo,
Johannah, ma dear, I understand that ye ha'e fairly
heckled and hooked John McGill, and as it is a well
known fact that he has a weel-lilled purse I wad see to

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

I''

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it, afore ye are married, that ye will stand by your gun
and demand a suitable marriage portion, as ye ken ' a
bird in the hand is worth twa in the bush.'" " Mither,"
quo' Johannah, " I ha'ena gat John McGill as yet. I'm
no exactly sure o' him either, as men-folk are as slippery
as eels, but under the circumstances, mither, I will tak'
guid care no to spur ma horse afore I get into the
saddle."

FULL GREYHOUNDS.
Jock Rodgers, a gamekeeper, was instructed to take
some greyhounds from Dunse up to Byrecleugh, the
hunting seat of the Duke of Roxburgh. He was com-
manded to feed them well by the way, as the duke was
very careful of his greyhounds, and would sooner part
with his own heart's blood than part with one of them.
When Jock, with the hounds, reached Longformacus he
gave them as many red herrings as they could eat, and
in the after journey they drank immoderate quantities
of water from the clear streams that ran down the hill-
sides. On reaching Byrecleugh Jock was met by the
duke, who with wonder exclaimed: " O, what plump
greyhounds! I never saw such plump greyhounds in
all my born days." "Yes, yes," quo' Jock, "my lord!
they look as if they werefou.^^

I'LL TAKE YOUR MEASURE.

In Detroit James Sutherland lived and was as kind-
hearted a man as ever drew breath, notwithstanding
that he was an undertaker. Some boys, who knew his
kindly qualities, annoyed him greatly by ringing his
night bell. One night James lost his temper, and he
roared after them, " Ye scorpions that ye are, ye imps
o' Satan, ye born wretches o' sin and misery — I'll tak'
yere measure yet."

MKETCIIBS AND ANKCHOTKH.

KOUIN.

|InRcrlb«'«l to R. Wmilpss, Samia, <">nt.J

I hu'e H bird, ii boiinie bird,

And K()I)iii is its name,
TwiiH st'Ut to me wi' liindly wordn

Frae my iiuld Scottisli hame.
And wlien it cam' unto my iiand

It looked sac dull and wae,
Nue doot it njissed the tlow'ry glen

The burnie and the brae.

There's raair than you, my bonnie bird,

Ila'e croKsed the raging main,
Wha mourn the blythe, the happy day*

Tliey'll never see again.
Sweet bird! Come sing a sjing to me,

Unmindfu' o' our ills;
And let us think we're once again

Mang our ain heather hills.

The joyfu' hours o' nameless bliss,

O, come ye back to me;
My love! my lost! again we meet

Aneath the trysting-tree.
0, sing to rae. my bonnie bird,

And ilka note o' thine
Will conjure up the gladsome days —

The joys o' auld lang syne.

THE WRONG SEAL.
Before the introduction of the penny postage system,
the envelope was rarely or ever to be seen. Letters
were generally written on quarto sheets of paper, and
folded up and sealed with wax. Every man, of any con-
sequence, carried a bunch of seals on his watch chain,
which hung dangling down from his watch-pocket or
spung. A number of ladies sealed their letters with the
end of their thimbles, and this manner of sealing w^as
designed to convey the impression that the sender was
possessed of industrious habits. The wafer was seldom

^!li,

HKETCIIES AND ANK<.DOTK8.

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used, as letters thus closed could be easily opened by the
inquisitive, by holding them to the kettle spout when
the kettle got her steam up. Thomas Lilly's wife died,
and he sent letters to all his friends to attend her fun-
eral. The day after her funeral David Peaden came
down from Kijpallet and he called upon Thomas.
" David," quo' Thomas. " I was disappointed that ye
didna' come to the funeral." " How could ye expert me
to come to the funeral?" quo' David, " when on the seal
o' the letter was the motto — ' Ye may a' gang to the
deevil.' " On hearing this Thomas raised his hands, his
chin fell upon his breast, he sank into a chair, and he
lost his breath for a space. When this was regained,
with faltering words he said, "Mercy me! I ha'e sealed
them wi' the wrang seal."

A GRAND VIEW.

One day Rab Niel, the blacksmith of Longformacus,
waited on the laird of the parish, and he said : " I wish
ye guid mornin', laird, and I hope last night ye had a
guid night's rest, as ye are weel deservin' o' a' the mercies
that heaven can send, and I wad be muckle obliged to ye,
forby payment, if ye wad gi'e me pasture for ma coo."

" Yes, Rab," said the laird, "ye can get that — ye can
tak' her up to the tap o' Dirrington hill."

" But there's nae grass there," said Rab. " There's
niothing there to feed a coo. I'll no tak' her there —
there's naething there but cauld and hunger and big
stanes and muckle rocks."

" I ken that," said the laird. " But, guid guide us a',
Rab, ye dinna tak' into consideration what a grand view
she'll ha'e!"

IP ,

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SKETCHES ANh AXKCKOTEfl.

JOHN GLASS.

Come luiten, lords und liulics gay,

To this aullientic tale
About John Glass, a publican,

Who lived In f.audcrdak'.

He still may be alive and well.

For aujj:ht that I can say.
Though I've not heard his merry laujjfh

For many a live lon<? day.

When young he went into the wars.

And lo! before he knew.
A ball blew olT his leg. upon

The Meld of Waterloo.

His limb was dressed and he received

The very best attention;
And when they brought him home he was

Rewarded with a pension.

And then he got as cross a wife

As Satan e'er invented,
Yet still, John, in his marriage yoke,

Was no-ways discontented.

Although she did not imitate

The cooing of the dove,
Yet still she loved her own John Glass

With an undying love.

At timiis she'd be as calm and sweet

As visions beatific,
And then about his ears she'd raise

A tempest most terrific.

Although her waspish words at times
Would sting him to the quick,

He'd stand like patience painted on,
A brose or porridge stick.

Had John possessed a vulgar mind

He might indulged obscenity,
But though she lost her temper, he

Ne'er lost his equanimity.

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SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

I've known some n.en who patient v-ere

Up to the very handle;
But deil a' une amang them a'

Wi' John could hold a candle.

.John had a sign, and on one side

There was on it address'd —
"Come all ye weary men and beasts,

Come in and take u rest " —

And on the other side he had

A soldier painted blue.
And " John Glass is the landlord, who

AVas ehot at Waterloo."

One night a band of drunken men

Came reeling to his door;
They had enough, yet still they were

Determined to have more.

Now, John had gone unto his rest,

His wife lay by his side;
She rose and instantly she flung

The window open wide.

And then she cried: " Ye drunken swine,

John will be down the noo.
He now is sharp'ning his braid sword

He had at Waterloo."

These words were launched with fine effect

And strategetic skill,
The drunkards fled until they gain'd

The dens o' Soutra hill.

Should John Glass be alive and well

When I seek Scotland's strand,
I'll find my way to Lauderdale,
And grasp him by the hand !

But, 'bout the pranks of his guidwife,

I will not even moot them ;
It's best, ye ken, 'bout some events,

Just to say nought aboot them.

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES. 26

HIDING THE TEAPOT.

AN EXPLORING EXPEDITION.

One morning last week Mr. Wagstaff was much sur-
prised wlien he received sealed instructions from Wash-
ington to go to the foot of Woodward avenue. He
went, and when he boarded a ship the sliip weighed
anchor and proceeded on her voyage. After four bells
the ship sprung a leak and she put into Walkerville.
After she was calked and fresli water procured she pro-
ceeded, and Mr. Wagstaff was, after a most tempestuous
voj'age, the wind blowing from the north-northwest,
safely landed upon the coast of Belle Isle. He opened his
sealed instructions and the instructions were to explore
the island and report at headquarters Avithout delay.
The natives of the island were agreeably surprised to see
him, as they had never seen a white man before. He gave
them rings, buttons and other trinkets, at which they
were so pleased that they desired him to sit down and
rest himself. The maidens tiien danced and sung
around him, in plaintive strains, and the song resembled
the song sung by the maidens in honor of Mungo Park,
when that traveler was in the interior of Africa. " The

poor white man, faint and wearv, came and sat beneath
3

til'

The sun's rays came down very hot upon James
Dougherty when he was shingling a roof. Early in the
afternoon he thought he would go liome. He got home
and found Mrs. Dougherty and a few friends enjoying
themselves. When they saw him they took great pains
to hide the teapot. James, however, had his weather
eye open, and exclaimed:

"It is not for nothin' the taypot is hid. i ' U

For I guess what is in it hy smelling' the lid."

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SKtTCHES AND AXECDOTES.

our tree. He has no mother to bring him milk — no wife
to grind his corn." After the dance he was introduced
to the king of the island, whoso name is Ferguson, who
was humming over a song, the air of which somewhat
resembbd the air of the Scotch song entitled " I'm owre
young to marry yet." The king immediately supplied
him with a guide. Mr. Wagstaff pushed forward, as
there was no time to be lost, and he saw a herd of deer,
and the guide informed him in broken English that the
aboriginal or pristine inhabitants called them " magnifi-
cent creatures." Mr. Wagstaff reports that the soil is
alluvial and that he found no specimens of gold, silver
or fossil remains. He considers that the island, in the
course of time, would be a good place to cultivate a
taste for bas;' -drums, bag-pipes, politicians, hurdy-
gurdies and other wind instruments. The report will
be beautifully embellished with engravings descriptive
of the savages in their abnormal condition; it is now
in the press, and book agents are already howling like
hungr}^ wolves to get a hold of it.

A ROUND OF SWEARING.

Before the introduction of railroads into the low-
lands of Scotland, cadgers and carriers were very
nTimerous. In my earh^ life. Will. Howliston was the
principal carrier l)etween Dunse and the city of
Edinburgh. When in Edinburgh, for some fault, Will
was taken before the maoristrates and fined five shil linos.
When he returned to Dunse he bragged greatly to Tarn
Wilson and others what a round of swearin' he had
ffiven the magistrates. Shortly after this Tam Wilson
visited Edinburgh and he was also taken up for some
offense. Recollecting what Howliston had told him he

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

began cursing and swearing in the court room, and for
which he was sent up for thirty days. When Tam got
back to Dunse he informed Will how he had followed
his example, by giving the magistrates a round of
swearin'. '* Tuts," replied Will ; " ye did wrang. I
didna' begin my round o' swearin' till I was twa miles
and a half oot o' the city."

NO EARTHLY JOY.

Jock Muirhead had lately got married to a brisk lass
o' the name o' Jean MacDonald. A minister that hadna'
married them, met Jock and wished him muckle joy.
^' There's nae yirthly joy," (juo' Jock; " Jean threatened
to rin awa' frae me this morniu'." " And what did ye
say to her?" quo' the minister. " Weel, I just tald her
to rin, and I wad tak' guid care no' to rin after her."

HEADS TO DISCOURSES.

" Some ministers," said Fulton Cunningham, " ha'e a
great lot o' heads and particulars to their discourses,
but ma mither had just ae head to her discourse, and
that was a stick wi' a big head and a pike in the end
o't."

WORST OF ALL.

Auld Marian McPhersoii oaed into a neiorhbor's house
one day, and she said, " Ma head is just swim swimmin',
and ma lugs are just ring ringiu'. Ma banes are as sair as
if I had been ca'd through a miller's happer, antl oh!
hech me, I can scarcely pu' ae foot after the ither, but
worst o' a' some o' ma freends are comin' this blessed
day, and I wad be muckle obliged to ye for the loan o'
your kail-pat and a bottle or twa o' your best whisky."

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

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A KISS.

The Rev. Mr. Shand was a superannuated Scottish
minister wlio spoke the Scottisli language in all its
native purity. One day he remarked: " I'm fair sick o'
the boinbastical ways o' men and women; the generality
o' them hae nae mair brains than hens. VVlian they meet
ye'll see them curtsey, bow and scrai)e, and gang
through as mony raanfcuvers and cajiers as a horse at a
fair. It's just sickenin' to see them gripin' and shakin'
ane anither by the hand, but the kissin' wark is warst
o' a'. Sir, understand, that I ha'e been a keen observer
o' baith men and women. I ha'e watched their ways and
manners, and I ha'e come to tlie conclusion that a kiss
consists o' twa simple heads and an application."

A BAD END.

Ae day Robert Gowanlock, a married man, thus
spoke: "I wadna' be an auld bachelor for a' the gold
and silver under the canopy o' heaven. Their lives are
l)erfect failures, and for the maist feck they a' dee most
horrible deaths. I ha'e just been awa sittin' up wi'
that auld confirmed idiot o' a bachelor, Willy Clapper-
ton, wha is no lang for this warld. Bless my soul! if
Willy had married Tibbie McDougall in his young days
he might ha'e been a grandfather by this time."

LAMMIELOO.

Twas on a Sunday afternoon

When simmer was in prime,
That in our wee bit houseikie

We had an unco time;
A bonnie wee bit lassiekie,

The sweetest o' them a',
Wi' mouie a liind and welcome wish

Upon us ga'e a ca'.

SKETCHES AXD ANECDOTES.

Wi' silent step twa years ha'e fled

Sinoe that event took place,
Now beauty's bloom and sunny smiles

Are pictured on her face;
O! she's a winsome lussiekie

Guid folksl I tell to vou,
There's no a wean in a' the rounds

Can match our Lammieloo.

When mornin' light comes peepin' in,

And 'fore I say my prayers.
She'll open up her eyes and cry,

"Pa, take me doon the stairs;"
And when she's doon, though in her pouch

She hasna' ae bawbee.
She'll rap the table and she'll cry,

" Nell, fetch a cup o' tea."

Ae day I coft her a bit doll

Which I saw labeled cheap,
She rowed it in her arras and cried,

" Now baby gang to sleep;"
She raised her finger to her ear,

As if to catch the key,
And then she sang "Sleep, baby, sleep,"

Midst mickle mirth and glee.

We ha'e a weary time at night,

She winua close her een;
She fain wad rise and chase the hens

That cackle on the greet*;
And then I fauld her in my arms.

And hum an auld Scotch strain,
And when I stop, she'd sweetly say,

" O, papa, sing again."

We ha'e some pictures in our house.

She kens them a' by turns,
O. this is " Weaker Scott," she'll say.

And that is " Robert Burns;"
She'll tell ye how the deggies bark,

And how the pussies mew,
O, hush! the cradle I maun rock,

O, sleep, my Lammieloo.

SKBTCUES AND ANECDOTES.

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STEADFAST LOVE.

Thomas Blackbull fell over head and ears in love wi'
bonnie Jenny Wilson, the kindest and the brawest lass
in a' the parish. They were in the habit o' walking o'
nights in the plantation by the banks o' the Dye — a
burn that winds its way through the hills o' Laramer-
moor. One evening, Will Smeaton, a tailor by occupa-
tion, was in the plantation and overheard the following
conversation:

" O, Jenny," quo Tam, " I do lo'e ye steadfast, there's
nae power on earth could knock your image out o' my
heart. It is rooted there in storm and sunshine, in wind
and in rain."

"Hout," cried Jenny, "I'm no sae sure o' that; the
love o' man is as changeable as the wind — it is even like
the butterfly that flits frae ae flower to the ither. I
wadna' believe some men as far as I could fling them."

" What!" cried Tam, " for goodness sake, Jenny,
dinna misdoot me. I'll lo'e ye, Jenny, my ain dear, as
lang as there's fur on the back o' a rabbit or hair on the
back o' a horse.

)»

WORKING THE ORACLE.

About the time of the passage of the reform bill,
David Drysdale and Adam Tamson, two weavers, drank
to the health of Lord John Russell and Earl Grey, so
frequently, that both their money and credit ran out.
One night they were in a very bad state, and quoth
David to Adam : " We must work the oracle some way
or another, otherwise we will never see the light of
another day. Now, we will baith gang up to John
Aikenhead's shop door, and I will fa' doon in a faint,
and ye will rin in and tell John." The project worked

^^^^^

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

well, for out came Mr. Aikenheacl and gave the pros-
trate man a dram. When he had drank about the half
of it Adam cried to David: "For the love of good-
ness, David, leave me some!" "Tuts!" cried David,
" Lie doon and faint for yoursel' !"

SAY NO MORE.

I was at the school with Symon Mack and Helen
Gowenlock, and we also worshiped in the auld Kirk of
Scotland, which I have respected and ever will respect.
In due course Symon and Helen got married, and the
love they had for one another was as pure as undefiled
gold — which is the foundation of peace. Now, Symon
was a great admirer of the works of nature, and about a
week after they were married he rose very early and
looked out of the .window. The sun was rising. Helen
was also rising. Symon's soul was tilled with delight
when he beheld the golden sunbeams dancing on the
top of the hills. In the fullness of his heart he
exclaimed, " How grand and with what majesty ye are
rising, O, thou glory of the heavens and of the earth."
On hearing this, Helen looked out of her box bed and
she said, "Symon, Symon, my dear, say no more ; ye
will make me. far ower proud o' mysel'."

A PROUD MAN.

Some years ago, while in conversation with the cele-
brated Thomas Carlvle's brother, who resided in the
vicinity of Brantford, Onl., William Smith, an auld
Paisley weaver, cam' alang the street, and he said to
him: "Dear sakes me! and are ye Tam Carlvle's
brither? O, man, but I wad be a proud man if Tam was
ma brither."

!;|,:i

( [

,< I

SKErCHES AN'D ANECDOTES.

ANDREW AND MAGGIE.

There lived a lad in Laininenni>or

And Andrew wjis his name,
And he has fa 'en deep in love

Wi' bonnie Maggie Graham.

Now Andrew was as braw a lad

As ever held a plow;
True was his heart, and manly woriii

Was stamped upon hi.s brow.

He lov'd but one and one alone.

fie lov'd her every hour;
He was not like the bu.sy bee

That flit.s from tlower to flower.

But wha can paint sweet Maggie Graham?

She was beyond compare;
Within her heart the richest gifts

Frae Heaven were centered there.

Sweet is the flower in craggy gk-n

That blooms without a name,
IJut sweeter far the sunny smile

O' bonnie Jlaggie Graham!

She'd lilt and .sing the lee-lang day
Auld Scotland's .sangs sae dear;

Her artless notes, how sweet they fell
Upon the list'ning ear.

How aft they met doon in the glen
Beneath the moon'.s pale beam,

lh>\\ aft he tauld his tale o' line
Beside the winding .stream.

O' a' the gifts that Heaven has sent

Since man frae bliss did fa",
The precious gift o' woman's love

Is far abune them a'.

'Tv> ;is in the blythsonie simmer time.

All in the month o' May,
When Andrew and his ain true love

Gaed up the Millwood brae.

an
th
to

Sc
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ha

liv

lie
asi

:i!'

SKKTCIIES AND ANKCDOTES.

The hawthorn IrmI^^c was rich in bloom,
Tiie llowers w( re fresh iiiid fair,

Th(! birds r(!Joi(;'(i — eVn heaven sniil'd
Upon this happy pair I

They reache<l the manse, and soon they met
"The man unlinown to fame;"

He joined their liands, and in his heart,
He lilest sweet Maggie Graham.

He said, " O, Andrew, ne'er forget,

In journeying o'er life's road,
If ye are true unto yersel',

Ye'll aye be true to God !

And O, may Heaven bliss ye bahh,

And keep ye in His care;
O, ne'er forget the golden words —

' To bear and to forbear ' "

Now Andrew was a gallant lad.

He said, " Whate'er betide,
Until my latest breath I draw,

I'll lo'e my bonnie bride I"

ALMOST.
Thomas Snadden was a big- hurley kind of a man,
and a great devourer of books. I once lieard liiiu say
that books were grand companions, and far preferable
to the society of either men or women, dogs, horses or
cats. One day he met John Play fair and said to him:
" John, I ha'e been glowerin' ower the warks o' the
Scottish poets, frae Allan Ramsay doonwards, and I am
bound to say that Scotland is a glorious guidwife. She
has produced swarms o' the grandest poets that the
warld ever saw or heard tell o', and, as sure as I am a
livin' sowl, I wad e'en like to hear ony body say to the
contrary." " Mr. Snadden," quo John, " wi a' due
deference to your size and your intellectual capacity, I
assume the responsibility o' remarkin' that Scotland has

BKBTCIIES AND ANECDOTES.

III

never produced a Shakespeare." At this remark
Thomas ga'e his croon a claw, and then lie said: " Let
that flea stick to the wa'. Shakespeare, by a' accounts,
was in Scotland, and we may gather frae that that it
was in Scotland where he gathered his wit. Still, I
canna' gainsay the fact that Shakespeare had brains o*
the very best quality, and that he was an Englishman.
John, 1 perfectly agree wV ane o' his critics that * Shake-
speare was almost clever enough to be a Scotchman.'"

BURNING UP.

James Hogg, the Ettrick shepherd, in one of his love
songs, thus sings:

" Love, love, love, love, love is like a dizziness,

It winna let a poor body gang about their business."

And I am inclined to think, and more than me can
testify to the same, that love is also like a devouring
flame, and that all the waters in rivers, lakes and seas
cannot drown it out. In corroboration: One evening
Andrew Cranston met his sweetheart, Nannie Walker,
at the trysting-tree, and quoth he: "Nannie, my heart
is on Are, I am burning up ! and I want to get married
next Thursday." "Losh," quoth she, "Andrew, my
dear, that is unco short notice, for ye ken I must get my
providing ready and my wedding gown made." " Tuts,"
quoth Andrew, " never mind about your providing, and
as for your gown, the gown ye ha'e will do weel enough.
Now, Nannie, just gie consent, for ye ken delays are
dangerous." " Now, Andrew," quoth Nannie, " I'm no
designed to mak' a fool o' mysel.' Ye may just burn
up. My faith, I'm no gaun, as the saying is, to
marry in haste and repent at leisure."

: ' i,.

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

A LAMMERMOOR LEGEND.

In LammerniDor, in Scothind's isle,
A shepherd lived in frugal style ;
Ae night he felt a wee thought worri'd,
And for the doctor olT he hurri'd.
The doctor cam', the herd return'd,
What joy within his bosom burn'd;
He was the father of a son,
Whose Icet o' life had just begun;
When tears of heartfelt joy he shed,
" Doctor," he cried, " I'm more than glad,
A son, a son, kind heaven has sent
And now, at last I am content,
I ne'er felt better in a' my life.
May heaven protect my son and wife!
Doctor, I'm unco glad ye cam'.
My faith, we now will ha'e a dram,
And what is mair, sir, if ye please.
We'll ha'e a chack o' bread and cheese."
Wi' joy the herd, I here declare,
Flung up his bonnet in the air.

The doctor had nae time to stay.
He took a dram, and rode away
Across the moor' at a guid peg
To set an auld wife's broken leg,
Wha doon had couped wi' great amaze,
When she was hanging out her claes.

To kiss and hug the little dear
The gossips came frae far and near.
Who all agreed, 'midst great palaver,
He was the image o' his father.
In twa or three days the wife got well,
And could be lippen'd wi' hersel';
And then the herd raxed doou his plaid,
And to the hill awa he gaed
To see the sheep how they were fending.
And if their crops o' wool were mending.
The sun by this began to fa'
As he cam' o'er the Ijormanshaw ;
He reached his hame at edge o' night
And then, wae's me, he got a fright.

I ;

SKETCHES AN'D AXEC'DOTKS.

I'-'l

"ll

His son was sleeping all alone,
But, oh, alas! liis wife was gone!
lie to the door with fren/y gaed,
And there he saw a cavalcade
Of fairies on their fairy steeds.
All playing on flieir sylvan reeds.
And singing songs of exultation
Beyond the bounds of moderation,
Which woke the birds, and in despair
They flew in terror through the air,
E'en foxes lied with tails erected
And left their young ones unprotected!

The fairies, young, looked fair to sec,
But the auld blinkers, liech how me.
Their faces lookit inair by token.
To an auld withered dricd-uj) docken;
There was ae antiquated male
Wha nuist ha'e weathered monie a gale
His nose was crook'd like the half moon.
His chin was like a horner's spoon.
He had a mouth but far as learn'd
The tient a tooth could be discern 'd,
His legs looked like twa lame inventions,
But he had wings o' great dimensions,
From tap to lae lie looked a yald ane,
My faith! he must ha'e been the auld ane!

Now, 'mang tin; throng he heard his wife
Cry " Mercy me! oh, spare my life! '
He cast his coat and bonniit blue,
And after them awa' he (lew,
Wi' rage at every step and stend.
His hair in tufts stood up on end,
His mouth and eyes wore opened wide
While Vengeance scamper'd at his side !

He saw them reach the water Dye;
He yelled: ''Ye hags of midnigiit, tly.
In name of heaven, and earth, and sea.
And leave my own guidwife to me."
At heaven's name they looked aghast.
And on the groimd tiie guidwife cast.
With terror o'er the stream they glide
And safely gain the other side.
And then and there the fairy throng
Chanted this fragment of a song:

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

' i I

By the pale nu)r»n'8 glint and gleum,
By tlic* spirit of tiie stream,
By the rowan on the tree,
And tlie dcwdrup on tiic lea,
Wlicn the fox has left his hdr,
Wiien the hat is in the air,
Wlien the wisp ids lamp has lit.
We will woo and win her yet.

He got her hame, but sad to tell,
She ne'er again was like hersel',
She'd sit and sigh the live long day,
Her thoughts were wandering far away,
For she had seen, upon her flight,
A glimmer of the second sight;
Ah, me! 'tis told she sjiw I ween.
The lands and lights of the unseen,
She saw what I dare dread to rhyme —
The never-ending bridge of tinie!
But all these ills that on her came.
She only had herself to blame;
Her days in peace she might have ended
Had she to guid advice attended.
At her bed head, upon three deeks.
She failed to hang her guidman's breeks;
She could have crushed the fairy plot
By this unfailing antidote!

Ae night the sky was overcast,
And her gindman was sleeping fast.
Dark gruesome clouds "gainst clouds went dashing,
And rain in torrents down came splashing.
The thunder rolletl, the earth lay dumb
As if the day of wrath had come!
The fairies came— a countless band.
And bore her oti to fairyland;
The shepherd's head grew gray with care.
For she was seen for neverinair;
He'd wander by the Dimple-hill,
And down beside the winding rill,
And raise his hand and call her name,
But to his call no answer came;
She's gone! where, where? Wisdom replies,
Unto the Lauds of the Surmise.

SKETCHES AXD ANECDOTES.

V.i >

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TOO DEAR.

The word "coft" is a classical Scotch word. In the
vulgar English it means to buy or to purchase. It is
tellingly introduced in the old song :

" I coft a stane o' haslock woo."
which means that a stone of wool had been bought that
had been obtained from the neck of a sheep. By this
example the intelligent reader will, no doubt, perceive
the beauty and condensation of the one language and
the redundant verbosity of the other. There is an old
saying "that nothing should be done without a purpose"
and my purpose is again to resuscitate this word. John
Ballantyne was a herder among the hills. He was very
penurious, and kept a double knot on the strings of his
purse. One day he was going to Dunbar, and his wife
said to him, "John, when ye are in Dunbar I wad like
if ye wad buy me a new bible wi' big print, as I canna
see sae guid as I did when you and I first got ac(|uainted
wi' ane another." When he returned from Dunbar, quo'
the wife, "John, did ye bring the bible?" " Na, ua,"
quo' John, "they were maist extraordinary dear — the
very deevil wadna have coft ane o' them.

LET HIM LOOSE.

In the parish o' Stow, Midlothian, lived Robbie
Roughead, who was a very timid man. On the morn-
ing of his marriage day a most unaccountable fear came
over him and he ran and hid himself in a peat-bog. The
minister arrived and he ordered some of the people to
bring him in, and they tied a halter about him and they
pulled him in by main force. At the conclusion of the
ceremony the minister said: "It is all over now — ye
may take oft" the halter and let him loose."

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

THE ROAD TO MATRIMONY.

Grace Glonwood was a blooming maid
Whom old and \ouiig admir"d,

And many a lad, both rich and poor.
Her heart and hand desir'd.

Now she resided with her aunt,

And I with truth confess,
Her aunt was just as cross an aunt

As ever trod the grass.

She'd lash her niece with her long tongue,

My faith she'd let her ken
That she would be the death o' her

If she spoke to the men.

One night she took a kind o' dwam.

And off she went to bed,
And lo, at this her lovel}' niece

Was most extremely glad.

She heard a rap, then to the door

On tip-toe ofT she ran,
And in a crack she was emlirac'd

By John, the miller's man.

They kissed, and kissed, and better kiss'd.
And then quoth he " next e'en

I'll yoke the mare, and Grace my dear.
We'll drive to Gretna Green."

To this Grace Glenwood gave consent.
And after some more speaking,

John left, and Grace went ben the house
And f(mnd her aunty sle«!piug.

Next night John yoked his guid gray mare.

And. quick as I can tell,
A female form leaped in the cart,

And off they went pell-mell.

Now when they passed the three-mile stone,

The moon began lo shine-.
And then he cried, " Oh, Grace, my dear,

Your aunt will soon iie mine.

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

11:

O, Grace, I swear by moon and stars,

I never felt so canty."
He looked, instead of having Grace,

Guid faith, he had her aunty I

Then he roared to his mare " Wo, wo,
Stand still, stand still, ye brute."

Thon down he sprang, and dear sakes me,
He coupit aunty cot!

FARE YE WELL.

'Tvvas on a summer's evening when Mr. George

Craig's work was done, that he, like Southey's Caspar,

was sitting in the sun. As he sat he Avas shooting folly

as it flies. He wondered how people could scamper

hither and thither in this hot and sultry weather instead

of sitting calmly on the doorstep and imitating the

example of wise men. As he thus sat, an old man

approached,

" Whose withered cheek and tresses gray,
iSeemed to have known a better day."

He grasped Mr. Craig by the hand and said: "C^eorge
Craig, I have got wind of ye. I have got hold of ye at
the lang and the last!" Mr. Craig looked at him and he
said: " Wha are ye? Upon my honor, I dinna ken ye
frae Adam." " What!" cried the stranger, " although I
havena' seen jq for saxty years, I kent ye at the first
glance. My name is Bauldy Drummond, and when we
were bairns many is the time that we have played
together upon the cold commons o' Coldingham.'*
" Dear me," cried Mr. Craig, " I mind o' you and I
mind o' your father afore ye." " When ye speak about
my father," replied Mr. Drummond, " ye touch a tender
spot. I Avent awa frae home, and every year I returned
to see my father. The first year he convoyed me away.

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

and on the top o' Horsley hill he said ' Fare ye well.*
The next year he said ' Fare ye well ' at the foot o' the
hill. The next vear he came to the door, and he looked
at me so waesorae like, when he said the waesome
words, ' Fare ye well.' "

MY LOVH

I weary a' the day, and I weary a' the night,

I weary for the darkness, and I weary for the light,

There's naething round about me but clouds o' dool and care.

Oh, wae is me I my love is gane — she's gane for everuiair.

Oh! nevermair we'll wander on the bonnie banks o' Dye,
Nae mair I'll see the love-light tliat glisten'd in her eye:
The links o' love are broken and my heart is sad and sair.
Oil, wae is me I my love is gane — she's gane for evermair.

Oil, weel I mind the gowden days away in the lang syne,
When underneath the greenwood tree she laid her hand in mine;
But now the days of joy are tied and sunk in dark despair,
Oh, wae is mel my love is gane — she's gane for evermair.

The shades o' night were deep'ning and the cloud was in the sky.
My love lay down upon her couch to sleep — to sleep — to die;
There's sadness in the sunlight, there's sadness everywhere,
Oh, wae is mel my love is gane — she's gane for evermair.

FAIR WEATHER.

An old sea captain (whose name has unfortunately

escaped my memory) died in the parish of Westruther.

After his death his effects were sold off by public roup.

James Clapperton, an anti<]uated weaver, who wore

knee-breeks and euitikins, to the end of his days,

attended the sale. After a warm contest between Jenny

Allan and James, an old barometer was knocked down

to him for 28. 6^d. Now James took the barometer

home, hung it up and gazed at the relic with a feeling

of pride, as he was well acquainted with the auld sea

{"i

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SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

captain. Something or another, however, was wrong
with the instrument, for it failed to determine the state
of the weather. Though the winds howled, and the
tempests raved, yet it still pointed to fair weather. One
dav it came on a furious rain and James consulted his
barometer. He lost all patience. He raised the win-
dow, and seizing the barometer by the butt end, shoved
its head out and said, " Blast ye; ye can see for yersel'!"

THE SWAN O' AVON.

Duncan Peterkin had a by-ordinar' appetite for dra-
matic literature. He was conversant with the works of
Beaumont and Fletcher, Ben Jonson, Massinger, Ford,
and others. His great and grand idol, however, was
William Shakespeare, whom he invariably called the
" The Swan o' Avon," One dav, in course of con versa-
tion, when Jock Trotter, the butcher was present, Dun-
can made the remark that he " wad gie baith his left
arm and his right leg if he could get baud o' the ' Swan
o' Avon's' first folio." At this remark Jock looked as if
he saw all the wonders of the world at one glance, and
then he said: " Losh guide us a', Duncan, man, what
kind o' a beast is't?"

MAY HEAVEN FORGIVE HIM.

Little Will Hastie was a kick above the commonality
of ne'er-do-weels. He was the ring-leader in all kinds
of mischief. Such an imp of Satan, I am sure, could
not be discovered from Berwick bounds to the back of
beyond. One day Jean Steedman, the grocer, sought
out Will's father and complained that Will had tied up
her door, choked up her lum-head, and with a kail-runt
had nearly " scorafished " the very life oot of her. His

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

father replied : " I ha'e used a dizen o' rods o' correc-
tion on Will's back; I ha'e hamshackled him; I ha'e
locked him up; and I ha'e taken twa or three staps oot
o' his bicker; but a' to nae purpose." Then laying his
hand on Mrs. Steedman's shoulder, he said : " But there
is ae consolation, and it is this, that although the deevil
is sometimes slow, yet, nevertheless, at the lang run, and
in due course, he aye gets his ain." These cold-hearted
words were too much for Mrs. Steedman. A tear welled
from her eye and fell upon the back of her wrinkled
hand, and she said: " May heaven forgie him, as I for-
gie him, for, wi' a' his faults, the puir wee laddie lies
unco near ma heart."

\r.

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A JOVIAL SOLDIER.

Much wind has been wasted in the attempt to prop
up the bombastical doctrine of evolution. In contradic-
tion I do not consider myself as good a man as my
father. In other words, instead of improving I have
degenerated. In a moment of vanity, if I should take
it into mv head to believe that I have evolved and
improved, I give my friend David Beveridge full liberty
to come and lash me within an inch of my life. In fur-
ther proof of my argument, Ruben Handyside was no
improvement upon his father. Instead of being so he
was a perfect failure. One day Ruben went to St. Bos-
well's fair, and he took it into his head that he would
evolve into a soldier ; consequently he enlisted, and after
taking a glass or two, he returned home in great glee.
He danced into the house, where he found his father
sitting by the fire. He roared out : " Father, I'm now
a jovial soldier." His father looked at him with a look
of sadness, and then he said : " Ruben, half a dizzen
bullets into ye will take the jovialty out o' ye."

! ' 1

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

■)f'^

■.,i

O, LUCY, WILL YE GANG WF ME?

O, Lucy, will ye gang wi' me
To the bonnie braes o' the Dimples?

Where the heather blooms sae bonnielye,
Where the Dye sae sweetly wimples.

The road winds through the Lammermoor,

The way will no be dreary,
O, I could gang the world o'er

Alang wi' you, my dearie!

0, come wi' me, my bonnie lass,

I'll row my plaid aboot ye,
The light o' heaven is in yere face.

I cunna live withoot ye.

Wlien ye are hame at my fireside.

How dearly I will lo'e thee!
Yell h' my ain, my bonnie bride,

And !: m: life I'll woo thee!

He's ta'eu his Lucy. by the hand,

And they are aff thegither;
A brawer pair in a' the land

Ne'er crossed the blooming heather.

As o'er the moor they linked alang,
The hills forgot their sadness,

The dowie glens and valleys rang
Wi' sangs o' joy and gladness.

HE UNCOVERED HIS HEAD.

[Inscribed to Mrs. Margaret Brack.]

Not far distant from where Sir Walter Scott lays
the scene of the "Bride of Laramermoor " is the kirk
town of Abbey St. Bathans. It is surrounded on all
sides by heath-clad hills and moorland wastes, but in its
immediate vicinity, in striking contrast, are seen the
fairy nook, the woodland glade, and the fertile vale.
On a beautiful table land are the ruins of an Abbey or
Monastery, which was dedicated to St. Bernard, and
founded bv the Coimtess of March in 1170:

^p*

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

There by the old romantic toon

The Whitaflder rins rowin' doon,

And lingers in her sea-ward rac<>

As laith to leave so sweet a phico;

Green grows the grass, the woods how green.

Nature ne'er made a fairer scene!

By the side of the Monienut burn, a tributary of the
Whitadder, on a beautiful lawn between two shelving
l^anks, scooped out by the hand of nature, stands the
Angler's Inn. It is a single story thatched cottage, and
looks so cozy and comfortable that one, tired of city
life, would there be fain to spend the evening of his
days in tranquility and peace. This inn, within the
memory of the present writer, was greatly frequented
by anglers and tourists in search of sport and the pictur-
esque. It was kept by Martha Pringle, an old maiden
lady, who was famed far and near for her neatness and
hospitality. We can yet see her, in our mind's eye,
standing at her door with a face brimful of kindness,
dressed in a gown of linsey-woolsey, a toy or mutch on
her head as white as the driven snow, and suspended
from her apron-string, hanging dangling down, the keys
of her bedrooms, kists and cupboards. With her
resided two helpers, the one a bright little girl by the
name of Jenny, who acted as scodgy, or maid of all
work; the other, her oldest brother, Sandy, who was
almost as blind as a mole, yet, notwithstanding, he had
an excellent ear for music, and was in the habit of lead-
ing the psalm in the parish church. To give the reader
an inkling of his character, an anecdote may here be
introduced. He had a sister who lived at Godscroft, in
the capacity of house maid, who was soon to be a bride,
and on a Sabbath morning, when the Rev. Mr. Wallace
was about to begin the exercises in the church, Sandy

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

V)i:

rose in the desk and said: " There is a purpose o' mar-
riage atween our Lizz and Tamraie Tarason, and if any
man, woman or bairn ha'e ony objections, let them
speak clean oot, and if no, may they haud their lang
tongues forever. Amen."

On a beautiful autumn forenoon, when the black-
binls were pouring forth their sweetest notes, the linnet
singing on the whin-bushes, the shillfa on the tree, and
the lark carolling up to the very gates of heaven^
Martha Pringle stood at her door humming the old
song, which, according to tradition, was made on John
Anderson, the town piper of Kelso:

John Anderson, my jo, John,

Cum in as ye gae by.
And ye shall get a sheep head

Weel baken in a pie;
Weel baken in a pie, John,

And a haggis in a pat,
.John Anderson, my jo, John,

Cum in and ye'U get that!

John Anderson, my jo, John,

Ye're king amang the men,
Ye cast the glamour ower us a'

When ye cum dancin' ben,
And when ye screw yer pipes, John,

We're at it heel and toe;
Ye'd mak' the dish loup ower the spoon,

John Anderson, my jo.

She looked up and she saw somebody coming up
the banks of the burn. He was, I trow, one of nature's
noblemen — stalwart in frame and erect in stature. His
long silken hair hung over the collar of his shooting
jacket, a kindly smile overspread his face, and his bright,
blue eye may be compared to the eye of Mars, "to
threaten or command." Martha trotted down the path-

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

way as fast her feet could carry her, and she cried as
she drew near her visitor, " bless ray heart, my bonnie
man, and do I live to see ye ance mair ? Ilech me, Mr.
Wullson, I'm fair oot o' breath, I ha'ena had siccan a
race for mony a day. Oh, dear me, I'm sae uplifted
that ray heart is dunt duntin' against ray ribs like a
pair o' fanners, Gi'e me yer hand, Mr. Wullson," and
she looked up in his face, and frora the bottom of her
heart she said: " O, man! ye're as welcome as the
flowers of Mav!" and hand in hand the two walked
together into the Angler's Inn! " Noo, Mr. Wullson,"
continued Martha, when they got into the parlor, " sit
ye doon on that chair till I get a guid look at ye; and ha'e
ye walked a' the lang road from Cockburnspath, but
hoo's the guidwife and a' the bairns V Bless me, after yer
long tramp ye'll be famishin' o' hunger." Although
Jenny was invisible, Martha turned round and cried out
at the top of her voice, "Jenny! Jenny! ye ne'er tlo-
weel that ye are, is the kail ready ? Oh, ye lazy, sack-
less, guid-for-naething, were I at yer haffits I would gi'e
ye yer kail through the reek! I'll dress ye up, ye lazy
tawpie! I'll drive some smeddura into ye. I dinna ken
what keeps my hand frae knockin' yer glaiket hea<l
against the wa', to think that Mr. Wullson has come
and you — ." "Say nae mair, Martha," said her visitor;
" I ken ye in the auld, and yer bark was aye worse than
your bite. I'm unco sure ye wadna' wrang a hair o'
poor Jenny's head." " Oh, Mr. Wullson," said the old
woman, " ye ken the frailties o' ray nature," and she sat
down beside her friend, and her heart was full and she
grat wi' very gladness! He laid his hand on her
shoulder so kindly, and he said : " Martha, it does ray
heart guid to get awa frae the dlnsome toon, frae the

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SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES,

n-ek, the clash, and the clavers — it does me guid to see
th«! boor-tree bush, the hawtliorn liedges, and the
bonnie burn wimplin' awa doon — joukin' here and
hidein' there, and stan<lin' still as if weary o' the race!
How grand it is to hear the sough o' the winds among
the trees, and the sigh o' the silvery stream amang the
hills! And, Martha, it does my "Jieart guid to see ye
ance mair, to hear ye speak the words o' welcome that
well up frae a heart that has aye wished that the bless-
ings o' the Father of all might fa' on me and mine.
Now, Martha, if ye'U come wi' rae we'll gang ben the
house and see yer brother Sandy." " Ye needna do
that," said she, "for he's no in; he's oot in the kail-yard
howkin' the 'taties. Sae ye can gang oot and get a
haver wi' him, and I'll awa and look after Jenny; and
my certy, I'll hurry her up! and we'll ha'e the dinner
ready in the wag o' a lamb's tail." With this Martha
went into the kitchen and John Wilson, professor of
moral philosophy in the University of Edinburgh, and
the Christopher North of BlackwoocVs Magazine, went
out to the kail-yard to ha'e a crack wi' auld Sandy
Pringle !

As previously stated, Sandy was somewhat short-
sighted, and when the professor said " hoo are ye,
Sandy ?" he lifted his bonnet wd' ae hand, and the other
he placed above his eyes, and then like Trim, when he
let his hat fall in the kitchen before Susanna, Sandy let
his bonnet fall into the potatoe basket. He then went
close up to the questioner with mouth and eyes open,
and gazed up in his face through a pair of brass gog-
gles, and then he drew a long breath and cried, " Mr.
Wullson, as I am a livin' sowl, is that you, or is it yer
ghost? Dad rabbit my picture, a sight of you is guid

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SKETCHES AVr> ANECDOTES.

for sail' e'en ; and hoo ha't* ye ])een, and lioo has this
warld o' sin and misery been usein' ye? Whan did ye
come, hoo did ye come, and hoo is every inch o' ye ?
The ne'er o' the like o't was ever kent, ye slippit on me
like a knotless thread, and me plowterin' awa amans^ tiie
'taties! Guid keep me, man I what way did ye no send
a body word that ye was corain', and I wad ha'e received
ye purpose like, wi' a clean shaved beard and ray 8ini-
day claes on? The only thing that makes me ferlie, Mr.
Wullson, is, that dressed in ma cordiirov rags ye didna

7 7 a Cj %,

mistak' me for a 'tatie bogle. But hover a blink, I'll be
upsides wi' ye for a' that, for whan I gang to Edin-
burgh to see ye, I'll come on ye like a flash o' fire, and
we'll ha'e sic a time — we'll be out and in, and see a' the
folk and the ferlies, and our tongues will just gang like
twa pen-guns. But I'm doubtin' I would soon be
tracheld clean dune, and be glad to get awa hame frae
amang ye a'." " Now, Sandy," said the professor, '' I
dinna want to hear onv mair o' ver clashmaclavers.
Ilka year ye ha'e tauld me the same story, and ye've
never yet set your nose past my door-cheek; but whan
ever ye come, Sandy, ye shall be made welcome. Tak'
ray word for't, ye winna stand shiverin' at my door like
a dosr in a wet sack.' "Ilech rae!" said Sandv, "Mr.
Wullson, ye maun excuse me, I muckle doot I'm getting
fair horn daft! I'm beginning to think that I will never
see the bonnie toun o' Edinburgh. The notion comes
and gangs that I winna be lang aboon the yird — that
the grass will soon be growin' owre my grave. My
banes are a' sair, and I ha'e an unco pain in the links o'
ma neck, strikin' doonwards into my l)risket, and war.st
o' a', I'm getting that blind, for to tell ye the even doon
truth, if it wasna for the feel, I wadna ken a chuckie

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

111!

I.";'

stane t'rae a potatoe. But the thinjif that vexes me mail*
than onything else is when Vm ta'en awa wha will tliey
get to sing in the kirk ? There's nane in a' the bounds
can raise the psalm, wi' the exce[)tion o' Tarn Dodds,
but ye canna ca't singin' for the muckle sumph just
roars like a coo in a strange loanin'. IJut niair than
that, Mr. VVullson, I canna brag muckle o' his character.
Sax years bye-gane, come next St. Bosweii's fair, he gaed
into Kdinburgh and he drank till he hadna ae bawbee
to rub against another, and for some graceless pliskie
that he played they chained him up, like a wild beast,
in ane o' the strongest cells o' the Tollbooth. Noo, Mr.
Wullson, after that exploit, do you think it would be
creditable to mak' him the second man iti the kirk V"
The professor laughed, and he said '* that the minister

and the elders ought to be the best judges." " Ye're
wrang there, Mr. Wullson," Sandy replied; "the only
music notes thev ken auarht aboot is the knots in their
l)arriteli; they're like the lasses o' Lockermacus, they
a' sing by the lug. But there's oor Jenny, she can sing,
for I ha'e gi'en her the edication, but it would never do,
Mr. VVullson, to set her up in the desk. Vet I ha'e often
thouglit that it wad ha'e been better, if it had been
the will o' Providence, had she been born a laddie
instead o' a lassie, and then I wad, when my time cam',
gi'en up the ghost wi' some satisfaction." As Sandy
uttered the last word he stuck the spade into the ground,
by way of adding force to his remarks. Some more
words Avere gathering about his tongue roots when the
lassie Jenny, with her face newly washed, and her hair
smoothly t'ombed, came into the garden with a step as
light as a fairy, and bashfully courtesyed to the profes-
sor, and said : " Mr. Wullson, you and Sandy maun

KK ETCHES AM) ANECDOTEH.

come aw.V into the hooHe, for the dinner's reii<ly."
" Corne awa to me my bonnie hiHsie," said the professor,
" ve surelv canna be wee Jennv that used to sit on mv
knee? dear me, ye ha'e spninj^ up like a mushroom,
and Sandv, she will soon be makin' auld men o' baith
you and me. Hut come, my bonnie bairn, and gi'e me
a kiss for auld lang syne,'' but Jenny jf^iggled and
laughed and ran into the house, followed by the profes-
sor and Sandy. Mr. Wilson sat down on his accustomed
seat at the head of the table, and there this Saul among
literary men, in company with his humble friends,
thanked the God of all for his manifold bounties.

Next day Mr. Wilson started off early with his bas-
ket and fishing-rod, and returned late in the evening.
" Noo, Mr. Wullson," cried Martha, *' this work will
never do, ve maun come sooner hame, I ha'e had ver
four-hours ready I dinna ken the time — come an<l I will
help ye aff wi' the creel. Bliss me, my certy, ye ha'e
heckled the troots, this day, the reel is jusc jammed,
up to the very e'e-hole! Just look at thae wallopers, ye
surely maun ha'e catched that ane up at the Raven-
craig, or in the big pool where the Dye and the Whit-
adder meet, and just see that ane, by a' the warld they
look like brithers. But what am I standin' here for,
haverin' like an auld henwife ? I maun flee awa' like a
pluff o' pouther and gut the troots. Jenny! Jenny! ye
little liramer, get doon the fryin'-pan, the flour, the saut,
and the pepper, and dinna stand there gapin' as if ye
was catchin' sparrows wi' yer mouth!"

Professor Wilson, as was his usual custom, remained
for a number of days at Abbey St. Bithans, and when
the day cume, before bid<ling his humble friends fare-
well, he promised to again pay them a visit about the

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SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

same time next year. Martha watched his way-going
till he reached the turn of the road, and he looked back,
and he raised his hat and waved his hand, and the good
old woman sat down on her doorstep and burst into a
flood of tears, and she said, " the sunshine has gane oot
o' my heart ! "

Time flew past with its joys and its sorrows, and on
the following autumn P"of. Wilson again paid a visit
to Abbey St. Bathans, but Martha Pringle was not
there to bid him M^elcome. On the Sabbath day he
attended the village church, and after the services he
went into the church yard. He uncovered his head.
He raised his eyes to Heaven. The tears streamed
down his cheeks and fell upon — the new made grave of
Martha Pringle !

SHOOT HIM CANNY.

There was an auld man, ca'd Tamniie Mackay,

And he lived in a cot at the back o" the brae.

Nae kinder auld man e'er drew breath in the Merse,

But auld Lizzie, his wife, was tlie very reverse.

She had girned, and glutchcil till nae ane could trace

Ae line o' content on her auld wrinkled face,

And the langer she lived tlie aul;l body cow'd a'

She wad quarrel and fight wi' a hole in the wa".

Ae mornia' she rofic at the break 'o the day,

And she yelled and she roared to auld Tammie Maokay,

"Get up, Tarn, get up, though ye dee wi' remorse,

This minit get up, Tarn, and shoot the auld horse —

He's feckless, he's auld, he has lived lang eneugh,

He's no tit to yoke in a cart or a pleugh.

Tarn, shoot him clean dead, or by day and by nicht

I'll gi'e ye nae peace till he's oot o' ma sicht."

Tarn pu'd o« his claes, and he clawed at his head,

And he loaded his musket wi' pouther and lead.

He gade oot at the door and his woes were increas'd

When he heard the birds sing, " Dinna shoot the puir beast."

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SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

He gade doon by the burn, and he shed the sau't tear,
When he saw his crippled auld freeud hobble near.
To Donald he spoke, and he lookit sae wae
When he said, " Its a sorrowfu' meetin' this day."

"Oh, Donaldl poor Donald, I'd sooner lie dead

Afore I wad ruffle a hair o' your head;

But I'll e'en t^ann and speak to young Rab o' the dell,

And tell him to do what I'll no do masel'.*

He met wi' young Ral), and he said, " Wae is me,

Our Lizzie's determined auld Donald maun dee."

And o'er his wan ( liefks the waefu' tears ran,

When he sai*!, " ."^ihoot him canny, rale canny, my man."

FRANCIE DEWAR'S SICKNESS.

On Birky-knowe, in a wee house,

There liv'd a man oa'd Francie Dewar,
He lived contented, bein and crouse,

For Francie was a bonnet-feuar.
His sister was a gruesome maid,

She'd lost a' hope o' men or marriage;
Pernickity she was and staid.

And had a most majestic carriage.

She had twa e'en as black as pick,

The feint a word do I dissemble,
I swear they'd pierce ye to the quick

They'd make the verydeevil tremble!
Now Francie owned a guid kail-yard;

Ae day he neither delved or dibbel'd,
For sickness caught him by the beard ;

His sister ran for Dr. Sibbald.

The doctor cam', he looked him o'er,

He tried his heart, he felt it beating,
He ordered drugs, and furthermore,

He charged him to abstain from eating.
His sister gave him dose on dose,

Until reduced to skin and bone,
And when he asked for beef or brose

She shook her head and gave a groan.

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

1 I

" Ob, mercy, me!" poor Francie cried,

" Oh. sister dear, I'm unco ill;"
She looked at him as if he lied,

Then plied him with another pill.
" Oh! why should I repine," he cried,

" Like some outlandish whipper-snapper.
Although I've neither boiled or fried,

I've drugs wad fill a miller's bapper."

How meek he swallow'd dose on dose.

Until his pulse wad scarcely beat,
And oft, to crown his weary woes,

His sister yelled; "You must not eat."
He wning bis hands and aft he said :

" I doot I'll soon gi'e up the ghost."
Yet still the auld cantankerous maid

Wad neither give him tea or toast!

He bad a night-cap on his head,

And it was strapped aneath his chin;
His feet were just as cauld as lead,

Cauld, cauld was he baith out and in.
Some thought the kink-boast he had got,

But an auld wife, ca'd Jean Carnagie,
Said : ' ' I'll be either hang'd or shot

If Francie basna' the lumbago. "

Auld Peggy Deans cuist up her nose.

And then she said: " Ga'e wa, bout tout,
I'll wager twa three pints o' brose,

If Francie basna' got the gout."
As thus they snapped at ilk like dowgs.

Poor Francie ga'e a violent sneeze ;
Then Peg Dale cried: "I'll bet ma lugs

That he has got the heart di.seaso."

But Tibbie Mack cried: " Cease your strife

And she got in a perfect frenzy,
" I'm ready to lay doon ma life

If it is no' the influenza. "
They wrangled loud, they wrangled lang.

They got as mad as mad could be;
They a' cried out, " I'm right, ye 're wrang,"

Losh! how the wives did disagree.

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SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

Poor Francie's nerves were a' unstrung.

Hech! through his head their words played clatter;
While he could scarcely wag his tongue,

Or spier at them what was the matter.
I've aften wonder'd how these wives

Could kick up sic a great uproar;
They should be careful o' men's lives,

When death is knocking at the door.

Not one of them did e'er opine

That Francie upon this occasion,
Was lying there in a decline

With naught but eveu-doon starvation.
In nick o' time the doctor cam'.

The sister strongly he berated.
He ordered mutton, beef and ham,

And Francie soon recuperateci.

To the auld maid he spoke'his mind

As he in wrath did stand and view her.
My faith! he halflius was inclin'd

To send his very lancet through her!
Had Francie died, baith wives and men

Would shed a tear in his behalf — ,
But as for me I'd seized a pen.

And written Francie's epitaph!

I'LL BARK MYSELF

Thomas Mclilwrick was born in Paisley, Scotland,
and emigrated to thij» country in the yeai 1 850, and set-
tled near Alraont, Mich. In all these years he has supped
his porridge with the horn-spoon of content and at night
he has slept soundly in the arms of wwcct repose. Some
time ago he paid a visit to Detroit and he saw a boy
witli two young dogs in a basket. " Are thesfc' dogs for
sale?" said he. "Yes," said the boy. "What is the
price?" said he. " One dollar and a half," said the boy.
" For both?" said he. " For one," said the boy. " Gang
awa' wi' ye," said he; "I will sooner bark maseP than
buy dogs so dear."

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SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

: I'

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'f^l:

NO EXPERIENCE.

George Tamson carae out of Scotland many years
ago, and settled down in London, Ontario. He brought
a wife along with him, and when matters went out of
kilter she would kick up her heels, and give George,
right or wrong, the worst word in her mouth. One day
she fell foul of him, and he with a sore heart and droop-
ing head went into an inner room. To divert his
thoughts he took up a Scotch song-book. After read-
ing awhile he said to himself: " The Scottish poets are
a' horn mad — they're just a pack o' clashin', daverin'
idiots. Ane o' them sings aboot his idol in this bom-
bastical strain:

' Her hair is the wing o' the blackbird,

Her eye is the eye o' the dove,
Her lips are the ripe blushing rose-bud

Her bosom the palace o' love.'

" Another sings —

' And ye shall wear when ye are wed,

The kirtle and the Highland plaid,
And sleep upon a heather bed,

Sae cozy and sae canty. '

" Another —

' The birds that sing in green-wood shaw

In sangs their love may tell,
But words can never speak the love

I ha'e for Jeanie Bell. "

" Another —

' At gloamin' if my lane I be,

Oh, but I'm wonderous eerie, O,
And mony a heavy sigh I gie
When absent frae my dearie, O.' "

With a look of contempt George flung down the
book that contained our glorious love-lyrics, and
exclaimed: "The poor fools — they had nae experience."

SKETCHES AND AXECDOTES.

THE JUDGE LAUGHED IMMODERATELY.

»»

The late Judge Rush Bagg and Mr. Geo. Devenport,
still alive, were bosom friends. When in company they
frequently said, " Here's to your very good health," and
" So be it." One day George got into a brawl and was
taken prisoner, and brought before the judge. Previous
to the opening of court Mr. Bagg got wind of the mat-
ter and advised him to plead guilty, which he did, and
was fined $5. When this was done, up started a lawyer

and said: " But, your honor" " Hold your tongue,

cried the judge, " I want none of your buts. If you do
not sit down I will send you up for 60 days. The court
is adjourned." When the judge descended from the
seat of justice Mr. Devenport grasped him by the hand
and they and a few more friends adjourned to a tavern
liard by. For several hours Care took a back seat, and
Fun and Frolic danced a hornpipe among the glasses.
Wlien the shades of evening began to prevail, George
was about to take his leave, but before doing so the
judge, in high feather, whispered into his ear, " Give
another man a clip." On the road home our living hero
went into a barber's shop, and after some angry words
the barber informed him " that he could whip a bushel
basket full of such as he." These words no sooner fell
from his lips when George immediately broke a wash-
hand basin over his head. For doing this, next morn-
ing, he was again taken before the judge. On hearing
the evidence the judge said: " Prisoner, how did you
do it?" " If I had a wash-hand basin I would show your
honor," was the reply. A basin was brought, where-
upon, as quick as lightning, the prisoner broke it over
the head of the barber. The judge laughed immoder-
ately. At length he said: "To err is human; to for-
give, divine. It is a most aggravated case of assault

and battery; the prisoner is discharged."
5

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SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

1^-

GILL, SCOTT, AND THE VENTRILOQUIST.

Quo* Sandy Gill to Bess, his wife,

*' I'm tired o' workin' a' my life,

And if ye dinna muckle heed

I'll tak' a turn doou to the Tweed;

The day is fine, I ha'e nae doots,

I'll ha'e braw sport amang the troots."

Bess had a tongue could clip a rag,
She was the ane could mak' it wag ;
When passion struck her 'neath the wing
iShe'd make the very girdle ring.
But independent o' a' this
She didna act so far amiss;
Wi' hands upon her twa sides press'd,
Her mim -mou'd man she thus address'd —
" Aweel," quo' she, " awa ye gang;
This while ye ha'e been unco thrang.
The proverb's guid ' enough's, eneugh,'
My certy! ye've been workin' teugh;
Guid faith I ye'd neither sink nor soom,
But just sit yerkin' at the loom;
Yes, Sandy, ye've plyed at the wark,
Frae early mornin' doon till dark,
I've aften said to your ain mither
• Your constitution was like leather,
Your constitution ! wha did mak' it ?
Tak' care ye dinna rend or rack it,
I ha'e a dread when ance it's broken
'Twill no be worth a wither'd docken;
A leg that's hale frae toe to hilt.
Is better than a wooden stilt.
Oh! if your mind should gang a-jce,
I ask what would become o' me?
Oh! Sandy, man, I ha'e nae doot,
I'd greet, till baith my e'en fell oot!
There's time to work, there's time to play,
Ye've my consent to tak' the day;
The kye when they're wi' heat oppress'd,
They a' lie doon and tak' a rest;
The bees in summer 'mang the bow'rs.
Sip hinnie frae the bonnie flow'rs.

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

And, Sandy, if accounts are true,
They doze and sleep the winter through;
And e'en the sheep amang the heather,
Lie doon and sleep for hours thegither;
There's e'en a hen, poor donnert thing,
She slips her neb aneath her wing — "

Poor Sandy ken'd it did afflict her,
On sic like points to contradict her;
And here, to married men, I say.
Just let your wives get a' their way,
For mercy's sake! O, ne'er misuse them,
Or, by my faith, ye soon will lose them ;
On history's page we there may find,
By hook or crook they've ruled mankind;
And yet experience bids me say,
They are the sunshine of our day!

As Sandy stood he gave a groan,
But Bessie heedless rattled on —
" My grannie had a head uncommon,
She was an extraor'nar' woman,
When kink-hoast raged, or croup was rife,
Her herbs and skill saved monie a life;
She said that bats i' holes o' wa's
Would hing for months up by their claws;
She tauld us late and ere to treasure
The guid auld say — 'There's luck in leisure;'
She'd sit and rest, and smoke, and speak
Contented, though half-sinoor'd wi' reek;
Though near-hand blind, and auld, and lame
She took the world as it came;
Ance in her life she raised a row
When her twa mutcli-strings gaed a-lowe,
Losh me! She owrc the table coupit,
As up she bang'd and roar'd and loupit !
Sic usefu' lessons then say I,
There is nae need to multiply;
The ways o' nature are the best,
Baith men and brutes demand a rest;
Sae get your rod, and get your reel,
Your hecklin' hooks, and fishing-creel,

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

Awa ye gang — draw on your boots
And bring us hame a creel o' troots,
And, Sandy, man, sae soon's ye're gone
I'll set to wark and bake a scone,
When ye come hame, 'tween you and me,
Ye'll get some extras to your tea."

Sae soon as he was out o' sight,
The wife began wi' a' her might.
To bake the scones and sweep the floor,
And raise a whirlwind o' stour.
And in the middle o' the racket,
She coupit owre the auld saut backet,
And do sic dirdoms in the flurry,
As wives will do when in a hurry.

Doon in the pool up to his knees,
See! Sandy gives his hooks a heeze,
His heart loups up wi' keen delight,
For Sandy has received a bite;
And here in serious, solemn mood.
And just by way of interlude,
I cry, O youth, beware, beware —
The baited hook, the tempters snare.
The nettle plucked in pleasure's bower
Will sting you till your latest hour;
Countless the wrecks on ruin's road —
The hand of Virtue leads to God!

How bonnie was that autumn morn,
The craik was craikin' 'mang the corn,
The rabbits birrin' on the brae,
And owls and hawks no far away;
Dame Nature was in glorious glee,
The shillfa' sang upon the tree,
The lintie's notes — how sweet they glided,.
And high o'er a' the lark presided ;
The bard would sing a canty strain,
Tweedside! to see thee once again.

A 'Triloquist, and Walter Scott,
Went out that morn to ha'e a sliot,
And when they baith had shot their fill,^
They dander'd doon on Sandy Gill;

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SKETCHES AND AXECDOTES. 61 ' ' I

The 'Triloquist to show his art, p j

And cheer the mighty minstrel's heart,

Ahint a tree took up his stand,

To watch the fisher ply his wand;

Up frae the pool a trout play'd splash,

The trout roared out " Ye muckle hash,

Daft Sandy Gill, just gang away,

Auld Nick will heckle you this day!"

Out o' the water Sandy sprang,
His flflhing-rod away he flang.
Upon the bank wi' fear he reels.
Then hameward he takes to his heels.
Nae ram-race runner could arrest him,
He ran as if Auld Nick possess'd him
When in the house he cried, "Oh! Bess,
I'm owre the lugs in great distress,
I speak the truth, may Satan stew me.
The very troots were speakin' to me.
Oh! make my bed, for sure's I'm born
I will be dead afore the morn,
Oh, dear! oh, dear! my head, my head.
Oh, gang and bake my burial bread;
Oh, Bess! Oh, Bess! guid guide us a',

I'll soon be into the dead-thraw; ^^

Strap doon my night-cowl 'neath my chin, ||J

My bed! my bed! let me loup in!
Pu' aflP my boots; no, keep them on,
And pu' them aff when I am gone;
Send for the elders, ane and a',
Afore my final breath I draw.
The minister ye needna coax,
I doot he isna orthodox.
The troot! the troot! 1 see it yet,
See, there it loups at the bed-fit;
I'll soon fa' into Satan's hands,
Oh! Bess, say ower the Ten Commands;
Bess, when I'm dead just greet your fill
Abune the banes o' Sandy Gill!"

As thus his mind in frenzy wander'd, -^

Poor Bessie stood amazed, dumfoundw'd.
Her heart like a meal-mUl gaed knockin'.
Her plans and projects a' were broken.

\''-

8KBTCHBS AND ANBCDOTBS.

Oh! Bessie, Bessie, realize.
There's nothing sure aneath the skies;
That pot o' kail now on the clips,
Ae drap may never reach your lips;
That butter'd scone within your grab,
Ae bite may never gust your gab.

Meanwhile Sir Walter on the bank,
Upon the gow'ny sward played clank,
On fancy'a wing I see him sit
And laugh as if his sides would split;
And when the cat got out the pock.
E'en Sandy Oill enjoyed the joke.

But Bessie had a lot to say.
She yatter'd 'bout it night and day,
She trow'd it was a deep laid plan
To wreck and ruin her guidman;
She swore some day she'd catch the wizard.
And wi' her nails rive out his gizzard;
She'd do'tl She'd take her affidavit.
Though she should swing in hempen gravit.
To stop her vengeaace there was nae man.
Though she should hing as high as Baman.

But Walter Scott to stop her clatters,
Threw oil upon the troubled waters,
He sent her owre a braw new bonnet,
Wi' gum-flowers and wi' ribbons on it,
A bow o' 'taties in a pock,
Twa rabbits and a bubbly-jock;
And tlius her wrath was mollified,
Wi* glee to Sandy Gill she cried—
" If e'er a son fa's to my lot,
I'll name him after Walter Scott I"

THE LIBERTY OF THE PRESS.

A great number of clashes and clavers are laid at
the doors o' individuals that ha'e nae foundation in fact.
The following anecdote can be relied on, as I took the
words down with great precision as they fell frae the
lips of the narrator:

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

" I was born in Peebles and ma name is John Park.
Mungo Park, the African explorer, was a relation o*
mine — his mither being my grand-aunty by ma father's
side. Ma father was a shoemaker, and it behooved him
to get me a step-mither whan I was 15 years auld. Ae
forenoon I was unco hungry and I gaed into the house
to get a daud o' bannock, but she had the press door
lockit. I took a bar o' iron and pried it open and an
unco Shirramuir began. Ma father, as some fathers will
do, took ma step-mither's part, and I ran awa, and
stayed awa for 1 lang years. Ae day I gat word that
ma father was unco ill, sae I thought it was ma bounden
duty to gang bame and see him. I gaed into the house
and he was in bed, but he kent rae. He raised his head
off the bowster and he said: "Come awa, Jock, I
ha'ena' seen ye for 10 years. Ye maun be famishin' —
ye maun surely be unco hungry." \Vi' this he says to
ma step-mither: "Nannie ! it wad gie me a degree o*
satisfaction if ye wad gie Jock the liberty o' the press.'*

HOME, SWEET HOME.

Ralph Whitehead was a shepherd awa' up amang the
hills. His grandson, young Ralph, attended the par-
ochial school and was an apt scholar. In due course he
was sent to the University o' Edinburgh. When he left
he had on a Tarn o' Shanter bonnet, a corduroy jacket
and a pair o' moleskin breeks. At the end o' the session,
when he cam' back, he had on a beaver hat, a long tailed
coat and a pair o' braw new breeks. Young Ralph
rushed into the house and found his grandfather sittin'
by the fire. He grasped hira by the hand and cried:
"Dulce Domum, dulce Domum." Quo' auld Ralph,
" That's no ma name — I dinna ken ye f rae Adam — get out
o' this hoose ye infernal idiot or I'll set the dowgs on ye

»»

SKKTCItKS AND AXICCliOTKS.

SIR WALTER SCOTT.
lIiiHcrlbed to Chah, MAfKENZiE. Ehq., M. P. P.. Saruia, Oat/

Thou mighty minstrel of tlie north,
The wifle world knows thy name,

Thou uniipi)roa(;lu'(l, how strong ye stand
Upon the hill of fame!

Wotjld I could weave a hamely song.
With thought and word complete,

That I, a rustic bard, might pay
My homage at thy feet.

Thy border harp how sweet its tune,

It knew no tinselled art,
It knew each thought that woke and lived,

Or slumbered in the lieart.

Kind nature was your truthful guide,

She never led thee wrong,
She taught thee how to touch the heart

With words of living song!

The border peels^, the battle fields.

The tower, the guarded way,
Tlie clash of arms, no pen but thine

Could venture to portray.

Thou glean'd from ev'ry shade of life —

From all its varied scenes.
How pure your page! pure as the thoughts

Of thy own Jennie Deans.

Hail, mighty minstrel of the north.
Lone would have been my hours,

Had thou not dulled the edge of care.
And strewed my path with flowers.

Thou taught us how our fathers fought
With sword, and bow, and brand,

Thou penned this line, " This is my own.
My own, my native land."

Sweet Scotland's bard! true poet— king.
Though mouldering in the clay.

Your patriot words will last and live
Till time shall pass away!

SKETCHES AND AVECnOTE«.

6r>

NO STKKNGTH.

Bauldy Balfour was an auotioiieer on the Borders.
Ac day he roupit aflF a number o' grass parks, and after
the roup was over the company sat doon to dinner in
the ptiblic-hoose. After *he dinner tlie toddy was as
plentiful as rain water in wash tubs. The toddy had
the effect o' makin' Bauldy unco canty and frolicsome,
and next raornin' whan his head was on the bowster, and
it was reelin' round like a cart wheel at full speed, in
bangs his mither-in-law upon him. Ma certy, she did
gie him a rakin' over the coals — she howkit doon to the
very roots o' his character. When she went awa and
left him to his misery, he says to hissel', * Dod rabbit
her picture, if I only had had ony strength remainin' I
wad hae lifted up ma hammer and knockit her doon to
the highest bidder."

NOTHING LEFT.

In Scotland "ye are like the cooper o' Fogo — your
father's better " — is a household saying. I have been at
some trouble to find out the origin of this saying, and
find that Joseph Walkingshaw was a cooper in Fogo.
He had a son whose name was Alexander, who invented
a wooden dish far superior to any dish his father had
ever manufactured. The dish was round, and it had
two cavities. From the first cavity he would sup his
broth, and when that was done he would turn the dish
up, and from the second cavity he would cleanly there-
from eat his beef. From this invention came the saying
above alluded to. A curious storv is related of old
Walkingshaw, which may here be introduced. One day
'e put a lot of woodenware articles into his donkey cart,
id he and the donkey proceeded to St. Boswell's fair.

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

He had a ready sale, and on returning homeward lie
found he had only a few wooden ladles left. Some
horsemen were anxious to pass on the road, but old
Walkingshaw was not to be done. He tied these ladle*
to the donkey's tail and off the brute went, helter-skelter,
like a shot out of a cannon. When he reached home his
wife came out with a bouet or lamp and she looked at
the ladles, then she set down the light and raised her
hands and cried: "Bliss my soul, Joseph, there's naeth-
ing left but the shanks!"

M-l

COME HAME.

[iQacribed to Ric\. Dr. Hkndehson, Detroit.]

My 'ove, my beautiful, my own,

I'm sitting a' alane;
O, how I long to hear thy step

And welcome thee . gain.
There's naething now looks bright to me,

The sunshine's left my ha',
There's nae ane now to cheer my heart

Since ye ha'e gane awa.'

The sun's gane doon ayont the hill,

And night steals slowly nigh —
Tis gloomy night, the weary winds

Around me moan and sigh.
My love! at midnight's silent hour

I saw thee come to me,
1 saw thee in thy youthful bloom

Come tripping o'er the lea.

I woke to find it but a dream,

A vision of the night —
Come hame, come hame, my darlint', come.

Come iiame my heart's delight.
O, come again, my life, my love,

And till my heart with glee.
The whispering winds no more will sigh

When ye come back to me.

!=.■,!

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

STRENGTH OF WILL.

Laird Hume resided in a toon in the bonnie border
land. He was a man o' strong will, and in the greatest
emergencies was never known to seek the advice of man
or woman. He once said : " I ha'e come to the con-
clusion, monie a year bye gane, that whan a man pits
his property into the hands o' a lawyer, his body into
the hands of a doctor, and his soul into the hands o' a
udnister, he had better just lie doon in his kail-yard and
die."

NOTHING CERTAIN.

The estimated age of John Nicoll is 75 years, and
the estimated age of Mrs. McRobbie is 55 years. The
twasome met on the street, and quoth John: "Mrs.
McRobbie, ye promised to pay me the siller that ye
owe me mair than a score o' times, but it's promise here
and promise there, and I doubt I'll be obliged to take
promises for payment." On hearing this Mrs. McRob-
bie tried to stave him off to the best of her ability.
John, however, stuck to his text, and very ungallantly
said: "Mrs. McRobbie ye ha'e a graceless face, and a
graceless face is scant o' grace, and I am forced to
come to the conclusion that when women get over the
fifties they are neither answerable for their words or
actions. I cannot for one moment depend upon a word
ye say. I was mair than sure that ye would pay me,
but there is nothing certain in this uncertain world."
" Tuts," quo' she, " gang awa and mend your manners,
for I weel I wat, I thought ye wad ha'e married me
afore this time and that would ha'e squared accounts.
John Nicoll! it is your own fault that I ha'e not paid
ye, as despair has blunted the edge of my industry."

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

!■!'

HE TOOK SEVERAL CHEERERS.

I am constrained to sav that Robert Stenhouse knew
more about floating, drawing, and swinging bridges
than any other stone mason that I ever conversed with.
Some years ago he built a bridge above Mount Clemens,
and after receiving his payment he came to Detroit and
took several cheerers. When night came, several of his
friends, with the help of two or three policemen, for safe
keeping, placed him m one of the cells of Clinton street
jail. He fell sound asleep, and when he awoke he
looked up and saw the arch of his cell, and then he
looked down and saw the ground. With the hair of
his head rising up like the fur on a fretful cat's back, he
roared out, "Where can I be ? Mercy me! under a
bridge and no water." He looked around and bemoaned
himself, and then in his agony he ruefully exclaimed:

" O! solitude! where are thy charms
That sages have s^en in thy face?

Better dwell in the midst of alarms
Than reign in this horrible place."

THE WHISTLE BLEW.

Lately I stood upon the dock at Port Huron waiting
for the " Greyhound " to take me down to Detroit. I
stood in a state of absent mindedness, as my thoughts,
for some reason or another, had gone wool-gathering.
These wandering thoughts, however, soon answered to
the bridle when I saw approaching me a beautiful pair
of lovers. The maiden reminded me of Milton's lines,
for in her I surely observed a

" Beauty which, either waking or asleep, shot forth peculiar
graces."

These lovers came and stood in ear-shot of me, and

the following conversation took place:

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

She — " Oh, William, the very thoughts of parting
makes me so sad and sorrowful that I am afraid my
heart will break with grief this very day."

He — " Oh, Rosy, Rosy, my dear, and my beloved,
take comfort and live in the hope that I will soon return
and clasp you in my fond embrace."

She — " Oh, William, William, when you are away be
sure and do not dream about me." He mournfully shook
his head and then he said, " Oh, Rosy, Rosy, I doubt I
cannot help myself." The whistle bk'v, and the tender
word and the heartfelt wish were in order. The fond
lover stood on the bow of the boat, and he was so
engaged in sending kisses back to Rosy that he had not
even time to brush off a fly that had settled on the
bridge of his nose.

STONEMASONS WANTED.

About the time that George IV. visited Scotland
and when Sir Walter Scott was in his glory, great build-
ing enterprises prevailed in Edinburgh. Landed proprie-
tors, and moneyed men vied witli each other to build up
what is now called the " New Town." As a result, the
masons received exorbitant wages, and to keep them in
good humor the contractors would drive them to and
from their work in hacknev coaches. At this time
there resided at No. 15 Bread street a Mrs. Mclntvre,
a widow, but who had a daughter called Grace, and
who was as fair as a flower and beyond the power of
my pen to describe. Now Grace was much beloved by
a journeyman stonemason, but by this time the " New
Town" was built up, and many masons were reduced to
want and obliged to sell or pawn their very chisels and
mells. Round the corner from Bread street Bauldy

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

I
! >

Brisbane was the proprietor of a grocer's shop, and to
show he was enterprising and no slouch, he kept on
hand a stock of " Dublin porter," " Alloa ale " and
" Prestonpan's table beer," which he sold in bottles.
Now Bauldy wanted a wife and he fell head over heels
in love with Grace Mclntyre, but the journeyman stone-
mason stood many degrees higher in her estimation. To
counteract this Bauldy caused to be inserted in the
Edinburgh Evening Courier, the following :

"A number of stone masons
Wanted immediately at
No. 15 Bread street."

By 4 o'clock next morning hundreds of them rang

Mrs. Mclntyre's bell. It took Grace and her mother

about all their time to answer the bell. About 2 o'clock

p. ra. Grace was perfectly exhausted, and she sank

down on a chair, and between breaths said: " Mither,

thy're a' oot o' wark thegether. I think I had better

tak' Bauldy."

MY JENNIE.

O, Jennie, the clouds on the hill-tops are nearing,
And the lengthening shadows are now disappearing,
On the wings of the golden the gloaming comes lightly,
And the love-star of evening is now shining brightly.

The primrose and daisy have hidden their blushes,
And the song birds are silent among the green bushes,
The queen of the night to her throne is advancing.
And her beams on the river in beauty are dancing.

O, say to me, dearjs , O. say you are willing
To go by the pathway that leads to my dwelling,
O, Jennie, my darling. O, do not delay,
For the finger of truth is now pointing the way.

My Jennie, methinks I hear whisperings above me
That tell me forever, my dearest, to love thee,
O, come, Jennie, come, O, say you are willing.
To reign in my heart, and be queen of my dwelling.

SKETCHES AXD ANECDOTES.

[ 1^:1

HIS AGE.

Robbie Hastie resided near the foot o' the Lammer-
law and was a celebrated poacher. He was a sure shot,
and when he carried off his'game he had a peculiar tal-
ent in eluding water-bailiffs, game-keepers and others in
authority. At length he was caught hard and fast and
taken before a magistrate. Robbie was then badgered
with a number of needless questions, and on being asked
how auld he was, he got nettled and replied: " Losh
sake me, man, what do ye want to ken that for ? Ma
mither kens that better than I do masel': but bv fire and
flint, I may e'en tell ye, if that Avill gie ye ony satisfac-
tion, that I am twa hunder and ten days aulder than
ma teeth."

ILL TAKE A LOOK AT HIM.

James Kirkhop came from one of the moorland dis-
tricts of Scotland where there are more peesweeps and
plovers than post-runners or steam engines. Shortly
after he landed he became infatuated with Isabella (tv.'i-
ham, who is related to me on the maternal side. When
their love for one another came up to the boiling l;eat,
I took much pleasure in giving her away to him, with
many kind remarks, and for which, under the eircnni-
stances, being so drowned in love, they appeared to pay
no attention thereunto. About a week after their wed-
lock Isabella said, " James, my dear, I would like if ye
Wild gang round to Campbell, the photographer, who is
one of mvoldest admirers, and if he disna strike ve fair
the first time he will strike ye over again," Quoth
James: "Isabella, my dear, I ha'ena been lang here,
and I am imacquainted wi' the manners and customs (,'
the country, and I dinna want to begin lighting already

i I

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

wi' ony o' your devilish photographers. Yet, if ye want
me to gang, I'll gang and tak' a look at him, and 11 I
think I can fight him I'll fight him, and if I think I
canna tight him I'll tak' to my heels and rin awa."

' ^ ROBERT TANNAHILL.

[Inscribed to M. Carun, Esq., Port Huron.]

Poor Tannahill, thou sweetest bard

That e'er wove words together,
Thy songs are like the pearly dew

That kiss the blooming heather.
When gloomy winter tied awa,

And spring danced in with glee,
What rapture tilled thy heart amang

The woods o' Craigie-lea.

Ye sang of Scotland's hills and dales,

The stream, the feathered throng.
Nature instinctive taught thy lips

The majesty of song!
High on the tree the blackbird sings,

Sweet is its melting strain.
It dies away, but never dies

Your "Jessie o' Dunblane!"

Fear dogged thy steps, grief bowed thee down.

Thy cheek grew pale and wan,
Thy harp lay dead, ye stood alone,

A broken-hearted man.
Poor Tannahill! how sad thy fate,

Man mourns thy doleful end,
But in thy life no one hold out

To thee a helping hand!

The sun gaed doon 'maug murky clouds.

Gloom overspread the sky.
Out in the darksome lull of night

Ye groped your way— to die.
Ah, woe is me! they found the bard

Down in the dank, cold river;
His song was sung, his heart was still.

Closed were his lips forever!

m .

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

A LEGEND O' SELKIUK.

[Inscribed to t)ie Hon. Wm. Adair, Uctruit |

A Souter o' Selkirk sat in his shop

Asewing at a shoe,
And the sun gaed doon wi' an awesome scowl,

And the wind a hurricane blew.

And the Souter plyed awa at his wark,

Plash, plash dang doon the rain.
And the thunder roared and the lightning flash "d

On the Souter's window pane.

And lie sat and he laughed wi' a mockriff laugh,

For he had nae kith or kin,
And he cared no ae straw for the folk thereout,

If he was a' richt within.

The angry winds raved 'mang the hills,

And doon through glen and shaw ;
And the Souter prayed that the muckle deil

That night might on him ca' .

There stood on the floor a weird auld man,

Wi' a face as wliite's a sheet.
And the hair o' his beard hang danglin' doon

The length o' his cloven feet.

And his lips were as black as the coom o' the lum.
And his mouth was as dark as a dungeon ;

When the queer man scowd'd the Souter'e dog howl'd,
And out at the door gaed plungin'.

And the Souter yelled and he gasped for breath,

And he muttered words o' prayer.
As the weird auld man ga'e a gruesome grane,

And clankit doon on a chair.

Then the Souter cried, " Get oot o' my hoose,

I dinna ken hoo ye got in,
For I fastened the door wi' bolts and bars,

And a great big iron pin."

Then the weird auld man cried, " Haud yere tongue,

I .seek nae maut or meat ;
Come hither, ye selfish, sordid wretch,

And measure my twa feet ! "

!■■■

' i
■|

I'll

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

And the Souter rose and measured his feet,

Although half dead vvi' fricht ;
And the spectre howled, " Ye must make me a pair

O' shoon by the morn's nicht."

The Souter 's e'en rolled 'round in his head,

And his knees tliey gaed knick-knock,
As the spectre vanished oot o' his sicht

Like a pulf o' tobacco smoke.

On the very next nicht, when the cuckoo-clock

Had coo'd a dozen coos,
The spectre stood on tlie Souter's S.00T,

And speired for his pair o' shoes.

As the Souter raxed ovver the new made shoon.

The spectre giggled wi' glee.
Then rowed them up wi" a hempen rope.

Syne handed o'er the fee.

As out at the door he whippit awa.

The Souter followed like daft,
And he saw him loup tlie kirk-yard wa'.

And descend in a new made graft.

Then ower the wa' the Souter played spring.

And stuck his awl in the sod ;
Next morning lie came with shovel and spade

To find ♦he spectre's abode.

And he howkit door>, and he howkit doon,

And the Souter never did stop
Till he saw the shoon or. a coffin lid,

Tied up wi' a hempen rope.

And he grasped the shoon wi' a greedy hand,

And out 0' the graft he sprang ;
And the corbies croak'd, and the head-stanes rockd,

And the doors 0' the kirk played bang !
And the Souter ran hame wi' the spectre's shoon,

But that was the end o' him ;
For the spectre that nicht whipt him aff to the grave,

And tore him limb frae limb.
Ho I Souters 0' Selkirk, be wary and wise,

Tins tale is no idle conjecture ;
Beware ! oh, beware ! and ne'er rifle the graft

O' a waukriff blood-thirsty spectre.

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

YOU SHALL HAVE IT.

The foundations o' a speedy marriage between
Stephen Macbeth and Miss Elizabeth Duff were begin-
ning to totter and give way, and all for lack o' a kirk.
Now Stephen was a probationer, and could preach a
most excellent sermon wi' miickle pith and unction, but
he could find no patron to place him into an empty
pulpit. Under these circumstances, a union between
this devoted couple was entirely out o' the question, as
nothing but gaunt, wolfish want would be staring
them in the eye. Lockermacus Kirk became vacant, and
the patron o' which was as cold blooded as a fossil-
fish in the old red sandstone formation, and, strange to
say, he measured people's l)rains by the shoes they wore
upon their feet. Miss Duff knew this. One night she
says: " Stephen, my dear, go order a big pair o' shoes,"
which he did, and when they were finished what wi'
tackets, heel-plates and tae-plates, when cast upon the
scales they weighed exactly twelve pounds, sax ounces
avoirdupois. With these shoes upon his feet he waited
on the patron and told him his errand.

" What," cried he, " I cannot give you the kirk; you
have neither capacity nor understanding." Wi' this he
looked at Stephen's shoes. He was struck wi' astonish-
ment. He raised his eyes; he grasped him by the hand
and said: "The kirk is yours."

A FIXE FEAST.

When lately in Sarnia, Ont., I paid a visit to my
friend, Mr. Foulds, baker by trade, and who was born
in Fifeshire, Scotland, about the beginning of the pres-
ent century. In the middle of the bake-house floor we
began an animated discussion regarding free trade, pro-

7«

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

tection, producers and oorisiiiners, and whether capital
or labor is king. In the heat of the argument he rushed
to the oven, pulled the door open and sent into it a long
wooden shovel and brought out a pan full of cakes
burnt as black as a thunder cloud. Mis eyes flashed
fire, his bosom heaved with emotion, he flung the shovel
down on the floor, he wrung his hands like one standing
on the very brink of despair, and then he cried " Jerusa-
lem!" After the pronunciation of this word he turned
to one of his boys and said: "Tam, ye ass that ye are,
rin oot and tell the swine that they'll soon ha'e a fine
feast."

IMPORTED AND EXPORTED.

There are few folk in this world that dinna lide on
some kind o' a hobbv-horse. Peter Porteous had one, I
ha'e heard say. Peter was a «iuarry-man, and he got a
wee thought crackit in the head wi' porin' ower books
on political economy. Ae day Peter and his wife Peggy,
although they had been laug buckled together, ha<l a
most unraercif u' outcast, and a great cannonade o' words
ensued. Amang ither things Peggy said, " Ye misera-
ble misguided mortal that ye are, I am strongly tempted
to throw ' Smith's Wealth o' Nations ' on the back o' the
fire." " Peggy," quo' Peter, " when ye cam' into ma
house, ye was imported, duty free, but I wish frae the
bottom o' ma heart ye had been exported in bond to the
inaist unproductive and barren regions o' the earth.'*
'* Peter ! Peter ! I'll gang yet," quo' Peggy, " and as
ye ha'e the Wealth o' Nations in your possession, gang
oot and buy me a horse, and my certy, I'll soon loup on,
and I'll gi'e the bridal reins a shake and yf'll never see

me mair

li't

SKETCH EB AND ANKCDOTKft.

WIDOW NAILOR.

flnacrlbf'd to Uobt. J. Hi.ack, Esq , Dpfroit.l

An imld wife lived ainang the hillh,

And sIh; was fell and piucy ;
'Tlioujrli bancs wore stilT, yet she'd a heart

As lightsome as a lassie.
Twa years hy-gane her ain guidnmn

Grim death awa had carried,
Now she'd a thought that she again
Would venture to get married.

For men wha lived amang the hills

She didna' care a hodle,
So she's awa to Edinburgh

As fast as she can toddle.
As lang the road she bent lu.-r steps,

A something whispered till her —
Keep up your lieart and .soon ye'll get

A man wi' lots o' siller.

She soon cro.ssed over the; North bridge,

And when in the Lawnmarkit,
She climbed sa.v pair o' weary .stairs,

And at the door she liarkit
She ga'e a rap, axid at the rap

Quick answered Widow Taylor,
Wha cried, '• Pear me, preserve us a".

How are ye, Mrs. Nailor ?

" Give me your hand, come your ways ben,

jV[y, my, how have ye been ?
My certy ! but a sight o' you

Is guid for my sair e'en.
Guid guide us a' this unkent ca'

Has set me fair a-jce,
Throw off your things, now si^ ye doon.

And soon I'll mask the tea.

" And how's the folk amang the hills,
And how's the lambs and ewes ? "

And then the twasome ower their cups
Soon dished up a' the news,

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

s 1^
• I

Quo' Mrs. Niiilor, " Mrs. Taylr)r,

Ye noedna' think I banter,
Again I'm on tlie widow's list,

Again I am a wanter,"

" And wliat for no' " tlie other cried,

Tlmt wliite-cap disna' fit ye,
There's plenty men that I e'en ken

Would be rale glad to get ye ; '
1 ken a butcher in the Port,

His name is Geordie Reid ;
He's just the very man to strike

The nail upon your head."

The tea-things now are put away,

And as they drank their toddy
They laid their projects and their plans

To catch the butclier body.
At length the widow cried, " Hech, me.

The toddy's ta'en my head,
I trow I'll e'en gang to my bed,

And dream o' Geordie Heid."

Quo' Mistress Taylor. " Come your ways,

There's twa beds — take the best,
And there's a night-cap, put it on

And take a guid night's rest."
She sleeped, the Tron bell tolled, she woke.

Her wits were on the rack.
With fearful horror, Oh ! she felt

A paw upon her back.

She gave a wild, terrific kick,

She screamed, " Oh, mercy, mother !"
When out her bed a something sprang

And landed in the other.
With agony her bosom heav'd.

She could not rest in peace.
She raised the window and she yell'd,

" The devil's here ! Police ! "

Then rushed the matron and the maid,

Up stairs the police sped ;
They saw the widow, pale as death,.

Stand pointing to the bed.

8KKTCIIKS AND ANIX'DOTES.

They turned their lights upon the bed,

Tliey raised ii hjud \m\on,
When one cried out, " By u' that's guid,

There's Woinl)el]s' kangaroo.

" How it's broke loose, how it's got here

Is more tlian I can say."
Quo' Widow Xailor. " Kaitli, I wish

I saw tlie liglit o' day ;
It'fi just a judgment sent (jn me,

I'm sure I was demented ;
I'll hurry hame to our ain liills,

And live and die contented."

BEFORE SHE BEGAN. '

Bettv BalHnLrall live-l in a cot house a' her lane.
Her guidraan was dead and lior off-spring were a' awa
and doin' for theirsel's. O' nigl.ts the bits o' neighbor
bairns were in the habit o' gatlierin' round her fireside,
and she wad entertain them wi' stories suitable to their
capacities. Ae night some o' them paid her a visit, and
she said: "Ma bonnie bairns, I dinna want to see ony
o' ye this blessed night, for ma teeth are just loupin'
like troots, menents and bagwames in a pool. I maun
e'en gang and hand raa face to the fire, as sair teeth,
like cats and beggars, are unco fond o' the heat. But
afore ye gang I will e'en tell ye what I am gaun to do.
I am gaun to mak' a poultice to place on ma cheek, and
then I am gaun to mak' a bowl o' gruel, and brew a
drap o' toddy, and then I am gaun to wash a sark or
twa and hang them on the claes rope, and after that I
will bathe baith ma feet and pare a corn on ma little tae,
and then I will read a chapter oot o' the * Life o' Sir
William Wallace,' the hero o' Scotland, and then I will
jump into bed. Gang hame, bairns, gang hame, afore
I begin."

\: \

SKKTCHES AND AN'EODOTKS.

■\i

p (

'('

THE CHURCH BELL.

One flay old Xannie Mosorip went to Dun.se, a dis-
tance of seven mile.s. She met a number of her friends,
and as whiskey tigiitens the bands o' friendship, she
drank considerable, and on the iianio-stretcii she got
be-nigh ted and lost h«;rser. Meanwhile her friends got
perplexed and alarmed, and sought her high and low,
Amang the hills thev roared " Xannie! Nannie! Where
are ye!" But the words of woe only died awa' in the
distance. About the dark hour o' midr'ght auld Willy
Anderson, the beadle, rang the kirk-bell, and another
general search took place. At length they discovered
Nannie on the ^op o' tlie Shealing Hill, sittiri' like a
crow in the mist. SIk* looked up wi' amazement when she
saw the auld and the young gathered around her, and
the first words she uttered wei-e: "I heard the kirk-
bell jow, jowin'. Is the kirk gaun in?"

AGAIX.vr REVOLUTIONS.

Duncan Broadfoot was a studious shoemaker, and
much addicted to reading works on astronomy. Ae day
he got into a heated argument wi' Saunders Veiteh
regarding the merits and demerits o' the French revolu-
tion. Duncan stood erect. His eves tlashed, and ne
placed the fore-finger of his right hand in the palm of
his left, and thus spoke: " Xoo, Saun<lers, if I was an
inhabitant o' ane o' the maist important planets, and if
ony o' the folk thereon started a revolution, and cam'
to me and advised me to tak' up the sword, gun or
Lochaber ax as tiie case miglit be, I wad just eye them
wi' scorn, and most <lignified and unmistakable disdain,
and tell them to gang to the deevil wi' baith them and
their revolutions."

i. H:,!

SKETCHES ANI> AXECDOTES.

.'^l

IIIS SIGN-ROARD.

It will be in the recollection of those who are con-
versant with history that in December, IV 75, Gen.
PIontL'omerv exclaimed to his men, when about to
attack Quebec : " Soldiers ! Men of New York, you
will not fear co follow where your general leads."
Robert Btirns, the Scottish poet, in one of his poems
thus alludes to this unfortunate campaign :

" Then through the hikes Montgomery takes.

I wat he Wiisna' slaw, man,
Down Lourie's burn lie took a turn,

At Carlf^ton did ca', mun.
But yet wliat reck when at Quebec,

Montgomery-like did fa', man,
Wi' sword in hand afore his band.

Amang his en'nnes a' man."

Some time ago Jan\es Lauderdale went to (Quebec,
and he f(»regathered wi' John Sutherland, another
Scotchman, wha undertook to sliow him the sights.
*' There's the place," <juo' Jolin, '' where the brave iMont-
gomery fell, and there's his signd)oard er"cted to com-
memorate his memory.'" 'What business was he in?"
quo' James. " Business 1 " .juo' John, " lie was in no
btisiness — he cam' at the \s rang time o' the year to do
l)usitiess.'"

HES NOBODY.

A fuidwife went into a bookselI(U''s shoj) ae day an<l
she said to the bookman: "• lla'e ye ony schule bo')ks y"
"Yes, mem," «(Uo' he, "I ha'e got cartloads o' them;
what kind o' a anc do ye want?" "I want," (]im)' she,
" Sill's Grammar." " Yc're Scotch," quo' he. " Yes,"
quo' she. " And is your guitbnan SiH)tch?" " Xa,"
quo' she. " He's naebody; he's an Eiiglishman."

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

SWEETEST FLOWER.

Duncan Gilbertson, an auld parishioner, was workin*
awa in his garden upon a bonnie mornin' iti tlie month o'
May. The birds were blithely singin' amang the green
leaves, and the Howers were blushing, and the sunlight
was dancing tip-toe amang the hills. Duncan folt the
benign influences, and he says to himsel': "This is a
braw world, I wonder if I will ever see a V>rawer world
than this." As he was thus ruminating, up cam' young
Sandy Walkingshaw wi' his Sunday claes on — a clean
sark and his infant beard newly shaven. After some
preliminary remarks, Sandy says : " Mr Gilbertson, ye
are a grand gardener, wlmt fine roses and flowers ye ha'e
round about ye, but ye ha'e ane in your house bonnier
and sweeter than them a', and wi' a' ma heart I wad like
to tak' her awa." " Weel,"' says Duncan, "Sandy, ma
man, it is flt to rive the heart oot o' me to ]>art wi' my
ain bonnie bairn, w]ia'> heart is as pure as the dew-drop
that hangs upon the budding rose, but ye ha'e ma con-
sent, and ma guid will." As he thus spoke, the tear
drop rose and glistened on his cheek, and he took Sanily
by the hand and he said : "And, oh, may heaven Ijliss
ye baith."

IGNOR.\XCE IS BLISS.

Ae day, at the dyke-side, Rob Iluddleston and auld
Taramie Rathbone, after exchanging snuff-boxes, got
into a great wrangle regarding some theological points
o' faith. Quo' Rob: "Stop, ye ha'e just said enough.
I dinna want to liear ony mair o' yere balderdash. Ye
are naething mair or less tlian a speakin' fool and a
l>lasted idiot." "I ken that," (juo' Tammie, "but ye
are a blasted idiot, but yere brains are sae scant that ye
remain iirnorant o' the fact."

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

A NICHT Wr ROBIN.

[Inscribed to J. B. Wilson, Esq., Detroit.]

"The following verses, entitled "A Nieht \vi" Robin," written by Mr. A.
Wanlksb, were recited by his daughter. Miss Jank Wanlkss. The verses,
were admirably rendered, and were received with great applause."

—Detroit Free Press.

Ye lads and bonnie lusses braw
This liight we've met in Merrill ha'
To knock care's head agahist the wa',
And ha'e ii crack wi' Robin.

There Burns has come — the kind and true
As ever wore the bonnet blue;
Where is the man that wadna' lo'e.
And grasp the hand o' Robin ?

Here's Jock, and Will, and Tarn, and Pate,
And bonnie Peg, and aunty Kate,
Frae Shirramoor's come up the gate.
To sup kail-brose wi' Robin.

And Tarn O'ShanLer will be here —
He's ju.st loup'd utr his auld grey mere.
And Cutty Sark will soon appear
To ha'e a dance wi' Robin!

There's Willie Wastle — honest bodie —
Has crossed the moor frae Linkum-doddic;
And Tinkler Maggie on her cuddy
Has come to speir for Robin I

Douf Duncan Grey's got done wi' wooin'
Wi' sighs, wi' billin' and wi' cooin',
And Meg — he's up the entry pu'in'
To introduce to Robin.

And auld Rob Morris o' the Glen,
Although he is three score and ten,
Puir bodie, there he's hirplin' ben
To say "guid e'en" to Rol)in.

Guid faith I herc'.s Ro))in's bonnie .lean,
Ac trig a lass as e'er was see.n.
She's just oome diincin' 'cross the green
To get a kiss frae Robin.

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

And Nannie she's no far awa —
Sae soon's she hears tlie bagpipes blaw
She'll just come t-rippiu' up the shaw.
To dance a reel wi' Robin.

There's Mary in her Highland dress,
As blythesome and as sweet a lass,
As e'er keek'd in a looking glass —
Her idol-king is Robin.

Spouse Nancy has got done wi' strife,
She's now a gash contented wife,
She's brought a cheese and glamed a knife
To cut a wang to Robin.

Nance Tinnock has hung on the pat,
And Willie's brew'd a j)eck o" maut,
And Allan's come to hu'i' a chat

And Irink a dram wi' Robin.

Tarn Sampson's von the curling game!
This night upon the rink of fame.
Like Jehu he will roar the name —
The deathless name o' Robin I

Haith! Robin was a canty chield.
As ever up Parnassus spiel'd,
The jinglin' bardies a' maun yield
And homage pay Robin!

He struck Dame Nature's varied key,
The outcast mousie on the lea,
The birdies wliistlin' in their glee
Were kith and kin to Robin.

Now lads and lasses ane and a'

Sae soon's the chairman gie's the ca'.

Get up and gi' a loud huzza —

A rousin' cheer for Robin!

HAVE YE ONY BAWBEES ?

Andrew Crawford was a peripatetic book-binder,
and to me well known in mv apprenticeship years. He
was as thoughtless and restless a mortal as could be
found in the length and breadth o' the land. In a word,

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

he wad appear and as suddenly disappear, and where to
find him, if anybody took the pains, would be as difficult
as to find a needle on the moors of Culloden. Ae day
he appeared, and one of his acquaintances said to him :
" Andrew, mercy rae, is that you, and are ye sure it is
you, and where in a' the warld ha'e ye been ? "

" Been," quo' Andrew, '* I ha'e been in London, and I
wasna' there twa days till I fell through a winday, and
guid guide us a', they hauled me afore a big monster o'
a judge that wadna' listen to either sense or reason, and
the upshot was that the old shaggy gray-headed badger
sent me to prison for thirty days. Blast his picture, by
his command thev lifted me on to the treadmill, and
I climbed and climbed and I climbed, but wi' a' ma
Scotch perseverance I couldna' get a glimpse o' our ain
heather hills. Noo, I am on the verge o' startin' for
Glasgow, and as I am like a fox in a hurry to break
cover, I wad like to ken if ye ha'e ony odd bawbees,
saxpences or shillin's gaun to waste aboot the bottom o'
yer pockets'"

HOPE.
«
Auld Nannie Haldane was sittin' on her door-stane

ae day, and by her side sat bonnie Lizzie Lindsay, and

she said, "Lizzie, ma bonnie lamb, y ;; are young and I

am auld. Your brow is whiter than the snaw, your

cheek is like the red, red rose, but my brow is furrovveil

wi' carej and my cheek is like the withered leaf that

flickers and fa's to the cauldriff groimd. I ha'e e'en

come through a warld o' iroubk*. Monie is the time

that I felt sae dooncast as if nae ray o' hope remaine<l,

but there aye r'^m^a/vi the cloud wi' the silver lining

and the blue lift ab« i "

«6

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

1^.

SOMETHING WORSE.

Watty Stobbie lived at Blackrig, a lonely house
situated in the Lanimermoor hills. Ae nifjht the ele-
ments were let loose — the lightning flashed, the thunder
rolled and the wind raved and howled ainanjr the hills.
While this was taking place Watty was sittin' at his
fireside, and his wife Jenny was sittin' aside him, and
notwithstanding the hyperborean blast, they were crack,
crackin' awa' like twa pen guns, nnco' couthie and con-
tented wi' ane another. Without a moment's notice a
cat made a sudden spring and landed on Watty's back.
"Bliss ma sowl and body," roared he. " Jenny! Jenny!
in the name o' a' that's guid, what's that?" "It's only
the cat," quo' Jenny. " Blast the brute," quo' Watty,
" what a gliff I did get. As sure as the breath o' life is
in me I thought it was something warse than the cat."

. i

EATING WORDS.

Twa gypsies — ane a tinker ana the other a fortune
teller — man and wife, named Geordie and Kirsten
Baillie, cam' into our village in the Lammernioors, ae
day, and pitched their tent by the side o' the bonnie
burn o' Dve. Next mornin' the twa ijot into a broilingr
passion, and Kirsten said something tluit cut Geordie
into the very innermost recesses o' his heart. Wi' fury
he roared: "Kirsten, ye base black-hearted randy that
ye are, I'll mak' ye eat your words!" "Me eat ma
words," quo' she, "ye may wait and watch for that for-
ever and a day, for, by the sun and mune and stars
aboon, they are true words and wholesome words, and
the best thing ye can do, ye black-hearted ruffian that
ye are, is to digest them at yere leisure."

W .1

SKETCHES AVI) ANECDOTES.

THOMAS CAMPBELL.

The writer of these line.s has frecnu-ntly seen the
liouse—Buccleug-h-pencl— where Tiioinas Campbell, the
author of " Pleasures of Hope," resided while in Edin-
burgh. Shortly after the publication of his beautiful
poem :

"On Linden wlien the sun was low,
And bloodless lay the untrodden .snow.
And (lark as winter was the How

Of Iser, rollinii' rapidly."

One nigl.t the poet was seen goinq; home bv two
Scotchmen, in a somewhat intoxicated condition.
" Wha's that ?" says the ane to the ither. " Man, do ye
no ken wha that is? Im sure he's kenspeckle enou<,di.
His name withoot the shadow o' a douljt is Iser Rollin*
Rapidly."

MY BEAUTIFUL TULIPS.

Old Dr. MacFarlane was a botanist and had a great
knack in laying the white swellin' in the legs and arms
o' those afflicted wi' that disease. In the fall o' the year
he dug up a lot of tulips and stowe«l them awa in the
attic of his house with the view of preserving them dur-
ing the winter months. One day his servant, auld Jenny
Trotter, roared into his lug, as he was somewhat deaf:
"Doctor, the onions are a' dune!" '"What downrisrht
nonsense," said he, " let us both go up immediately to
the attic and investigate." Ht placed his spectacles on
the bridge of his nose, and the twa went up. He looked
round and cried, "Jenny, what have you done with the
roots that were lying in that corner V" To which (pies-
tion she bawled out, *' Ye ha'e eaten them a'." '• Mercy
me!" he cried, "my beautiful tulips! by lire and flood,

SKETCH KS A>fD ANKCIK.TES.

it is wonderful to mo that I did not die with the ixii><tri-
tis of the stoniadi. My furious indignation I can
scarcely bridle. I feel as if I was i)ossessed with ten
thousand furies. Woman! I am tempted to tear every
hair of your head out from their very roots, but even
that would not corrrect your iniquity or blot out your
diabolical transgressions! Jenny Trotter! go out of my
sight, ye base-born female idiot that ye are." As Jenny
went doon the stair she muttered to hersel', '* He ca'd me
an idiot, the auld fool that he is. If he hadna' possessed
the stomach o' a horse he wadna' be alive this blessed
day."

NO RELATION.

John Mack had a very glibe tongue in his head, or,
in other words, he had a tongue that could clip clouts.
He was a dealer in swine and other four-footed brutes.
One day he was driving a sow along the road when he
met tiie Laird o' Witchester. There are a great num-
ber o' degrees o' wit. There was naething droll aboot
the Laird's wit; it belonged mair or less to the sneerin'
or sarcastic order. Tlie Laird looked at the sow and
then said: "John, I wad like to ken if that sow is a
brither o' yours y" " Na," replied John, "That sow is
like yoursel', he is only an acquaintance."

UPWARD TEARS.

The downfall of Napolean Bonaparte gave general
satisfaction in Scotland, and even the news of his death
brought no sorrow. When Kirsty Fraser heard of the
last event she said: "Is that so? If it is true that he
is dead and gone, I will try and make my tears play tiy
as high as the steeple."

SKKTCIIES AM) AVKCDoTKS.

A POOH KxcrsE.

In Snrnia toon n bakor livi's,

And hv is naniwl .James Fonlds,
And iif. at orra times. Tm taiild,

Breaks out and swears and scolds.
He lias twa lads in his bake-shop,

And one o" them is spry,
Though he, by some mishap had lost,

In early life, an eye.

The other lad is slow and dull,

And scarcely worth his keep ;
And like the slutrirard, lie's inclined

To slumber and to sleep.
Al liis bed-side oft Mr. Foulds

Is sore inclined to beat him,
And though he aft his shovel shook,

He never did maltreat him.

One day when lire was in his eye.

He sternly did remark,
" Look to your mate, how at the morn,

He springs up like the lark."
The sumph replied, "There's naught prevents

Tarn out his bed to whup,
As Tam, poor Tarn, has only got

One eye to open up."

A FEARFUL STRUGGLE

When on a visit to Kent Co., Ont., I called upon an
old friend, who is known in these parts by the name of
*' Auld Grannie Macalaster." I found her sitting by the
fireside, wi' a pipe in her teeth, and her teeth and her
pipe were as black as sin. We had a most charming
crack wi' ane another, and as I take kindly to the woed,
her and I socm filled the house fu' -/ reek, sae much
sae, that the very cats and dogs were instinctively
compelled to rush out o' doors to seek a mair salubrious

atmosphere. In the course of conversation she informed

f)(t

SKK'rrilES AND AXKrnOTKS.

nu' that she was horn lu'ar " Lomhjn's honuio woods and
braes," and had a vivid rc'(MjIlc'('tif)n of sccinof Tannahill,
jxrhaps th(^ sweetest lyri(^al })oet Scotland lias ever j»ro-
<liieed. (^uo' she: " I einiL,n-ated to Canada in the year
1S32, and I am the mitiier o' fourteen V>airns and saxteen
grandhalrns." "(irannie," (jiio' I, "ye are, I trow, a
great and a grand example tu yere sex. Hy ma faith,
ye ha'e been a fruitful vine; but losh pity me, ye maun
ha'en had an unco job to bring up sac; monie bairns."
*' A^'e, aye," <luo' she, "'I e'en ha'e had a fearfu' strug-
gle. When the l)its o' bairns misbehaved, monie is the
time I could ha'e knockit their brains oot wi' the readiest
thing I could lay ma hands on, but I wad tie uj) Mia
temper, and I wad gang and till my pipe, and ram it
into the tire wi' a vengeance, and then I wad sit (h)on
and draw and blaw awa, and afore I was half ended
I wad get consolation, and the bairns, tuts, they wa<l a'
get forgiveness."

EVERYBODY'S HERE.

Annie Proudfit and Robert Ronaldson were twa
sweethearts, and o' nights they often met aneath the
trysting tree to exchange eternal constancy and renew
their vows o' eternal love. But not only this, whan the
Sabbath cam' round they wad gang side by side to the
kirk, and sit in the same pew, and he wad tak' great
pleasure and pride in looking up for her the text and
the Psalms as they were given oiit in due course. A'e
day Annie gaed to the kirk and sat doon, l)ut Robert
was na there, and although the kirk was jammed fu' o'
folk, she said to hersel': "There's naebodv here." At
h-ngth Robert put in an appearance, and then she said :
"'A' body's here."

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

THE BLACK DOUGLAS.

The Douglas wuh ii buron bold,

Grim .scorn was in his v,yi' ;
When treason rose it fell or tied

When " Douglas " was the cry I

He WHS u thorn to all his foes,
To friends their hedge and guide.

I trow none dared to scout his name
O'er all the country -side.

In peace his every word was law,

In battle doubly strong ;
This was his creed -a tyrant's creed—

That might could do no wron,"-.

On Annan's banks a mother sat.

A child was on her knee,
And aye she sat and aye she sang

Wi' fond maternal glee.

And aye the o'erword o' her .sang

Was "Baby dinna fret thee,
My lammie loo, my bonnie doo,

Black Douglas winna get thee ! "

She looked around witli fearful awe.
Her eyes reeled wond'rous wide.

For there she saw the baron bold
Stand silent by her side.

She clianged her tune, and sweetly sang,

" My babe, if I neglect thee,
The Douglas bold, the Douglas kind,

For ever will protect tliec."

The Douglas smiled, he tu(;k the child

And set it on his knee.
He sang, "Sweet babe, hush! woman's wiles

Aro deeper than the sea '. "

Fair was the child, Ikjw sweet, how fair

Fair as the lily meek,
He sighed, a tear-drop glistening rose.

And trembled on his cheek '.

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WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580

(716) 872-4503

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SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

hJ)

I ..

And then he said, " Oood dame, ho, dame,

Pray let me kiss your daughter.
And ye shall have a grant of land

By bonnie Annan water."*

* The Annan water runs into the Solway firth. It is well described in the
old Border ballad :

"Oh, Annan waters, braid and deep."

It may also be stated that all powerful was the Douglas and that when
he rode out his retinue was greater than the then Scottish kinxs.

A SAD MISTAKE.

Mr. and Mrs. Hampshire came to us from one of the
midland counties of England. He, however, has travel-
ed through the Highlands of Scotland, and he speaks
of that country and the people in glowing terms. Mrs.
Hampshire, however, knows nothing about that country
and about the inhabitants she knows much less. She
makes grand Devonshire dumplings, but I will not men-
tion the name of the street whereon she resides; neither
will I give the number of the house, as I fear too many
of my readers would be flocking thitherward to obtain
samples of her dumplings. One day Mr. Hampshire
went into Robert Black's Scotch picture store, and he
purchased a portrait of a Highland man,

"With his philabeg and tartan plaid.
And big claymore down by his side."

He took it home, and with joy dancing in his eyes, he
cried out to Mrs. Hampshire : " See, see, my dear, what
I have got ! " She looked at it and she said : " Charles,
my love, is that an angel ? " These words had no
sooner fallen from her lips when he turned round upon
her abruptly and said: "My dear, it is the first time
on record that a Highland man has been mistaken for an
angel ! "

SKBTCHBS AN'D AXKCDOTKS.

NOW AND THEN.

When I was in my youthful years, I remember that
I did often sit upon auld Jenny Chapman's knee. Jenny
made many quaint and curious remarks, but she was
like many a one, her bark was worse than her bite. Ae
day she said to my grandmither, " I ha'e lost a' notion o'
the men — they are just a pack o' domineering deevils.
When I was a lass I had a guid and kind opinion o*
them, but now, when I am auld, I confess that I detest
them frae the very bottom o' my heart. There's my
guidman Sandy, he is just a poor, silly sumph. He
just puts me in mind o' an auld drake spluttering in a
pool. At times he will neither dance or baud the
«andle, and I say it, that shouldna' say it, that he has
nae mair mense than a miller's horse. I canna' get alang
wi' him ava, unless I allow him to sing his ain sang on
the highest rim o' the rainbow. Yet take him wi' a' his
short-comings and be-deevilments, I wadna' like to hear
onybody say onything against him."

TAKEN APART.

Sandy Greenlaw was in the habit of traveling over
Berwickshire for the purpose of cleaning, oiling and
mending clocks an«l watches, Ae day he called upon
the Rev. Mr. Wallace, of Abbey St. Bathans, and found
the minister engaged in conversation with some of
his parishioners. Sandy sat for some time wi' his hat
between his knees, and at last he lost his patience. Ho
rose and went up to the reverend gentleman and said :
"Mr. Wallace, I wad like to speak to ye in private; I
wad like to tak' ye apart." " Weel," said the minister,
** ye can do that, but I hope ye will pit me thegether

agam.

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

JOHNNIE ARMSTRONG.
[Inscribed to John Olivbr, Esq., Bay City, Mich.]'

Of a' the outlaws great or sma',

Renowned in border tale,
I'm free to swear, nane could compare,

Wi' Johnnie o' Eskdale.

Freebooters, thieves, and gallows-knave»
Auld Scotland ance had monie,

But deil a ane could "lift" a cow
Or twang a bow wi' Jolmnie.

Bold Donald Caird, Rob Roy, Jock Paa
Kicked up a rowth o' rackets,

I'd wager twa three-pints o' brose
He could have warm'd their iackets!

Had a' their black misdeeds been penn'd,

And judged by moral law,
I'm bound to say, that his exploits

Would overtowered them a'.

Yet I ha'e heard my grannie say,

And here I now record it —
That Johnnie only stole frae them

Wha brawly could afford it.

Ae mornin' he banged out o' bed.

And ga'e a bugle blast,
And then he cried, "My merry men,

Come, let us break our fast. "

Sae ben they gaed unto the ha'.

And curious to relate.
They saw a row o* riding-spurs.

On trencher and on plate 1

Then Johnnie laughed both loud and \&ne^
Then cried, "Losh! I declare,

Thae spurs are nae mistaken signs
That pan and pantry's bare.

" To horse! to horsel my merry men,
Come, mount, spur and away.

And let us hie to English ground
To seize and drive a pi*ey."

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

»ft

They brattled round on English ground,

And lang afore the mirk,
They hameward drove bath sheep and kye,

And monie a stot and stirk.

And as they rode alang the road

They came to stacks o' wheat ;
Then Johnnie cried: "By earth and sea

I wish they had four feet ! "

This raid took place, as records tell,

When simmer days were prime.
And when they gained Oilnockie tower*

They had a glorious time.

They brewed their ale, they drank and sang

And thieved o'er a' the border;
They stood defiant to the king

And scorned baith law and order.

But stern King James cam' round aboot.

And by his royal will,
He hanged them up baith ane and a'

Tpon tlie gallows hill !

Oh. wae betide! Poor Johnnie's gane.

His guid bent bow's unstrung.
And lie wha wad misca' his name

Had better hold his tongue !

♦flilnfickie tower, once the stronghold of Johnnie Armstrong, is situated
in Etikdaie, on the banks of the river Esk, and is now a ruin, .\ccording to
Ro»)ert Chambers "Armstrong and his thirty-six companions were all
hanged upon growing trees, which immediately withered away, as if to
mark the injustice of .Johnnie's sentence."

NEVER BOTHER A SICK SHOEMAKER.

"If ye will to Cupar mauti to Cupar" is an old say-
ing, but I ara ignorant of its origin. Cupar is a town
in Fifeshire, and the saj'ing means that if an individual
will not listen to advice let him go liis own road. This
saying was well brought out by Joseph Mercer, one of
the best shoemakers that ever waxed an end. One day
George Gourley waited upon him, and desired liim to

!■ i

SKBTCIIES AND ANECDOTES.

make a pair of boots, and quoth Mr. Gourley : "Joseph,
I must have them on Saturday night, as I have to stand
sponsor for two twins on Sunday morning." On Satur-
day evening Mr. Gourley waited on Joseph and found
him in bed with a wet towel on his head and a pair of
smoothing-irons at his feet. " I couldna' get your boots
done, Mr. Gourley," said Joseph, " as I took an onfa' and
a rumbling in my head, as if a train o' cars was runnin*
through it." " Bliss me ! " cried Mr. Gourley, " How-
can I stand sponsor without my boots ? " On hearing
this, Joseph sat up in bed and looked him squarely in
the face, and said, " Ye may gang in your stocking soles
for onything that I care — he that will to Cupar maun to
Cupar." On saying this be fell back on the pillow and
cried out, " Josephine, Josephine, bring me another
wet towel and another pair of smoothing-irons."

THE SPINNING WHEEL.

[Inscril)f'(l to James Fol'lds, Esq.)

As I j^facd to Camlachie Toon.*

I mind the day fu' wecl
For tliere I spycd a thrifty wife,

A-spinnin' at her wlieel,
I stood a gllT at her door-staue.

And thr.'U 1 veutur'd in.
Quo' I: " Guidwife, wi' your consent.

I'd like to see ye spin. "

Quo' she: "Guidman. ju.st come your ways,

Cauld, cauld's tlie mornin' air.
Come, crook your hougix and rest yoursel".

Upon that muckle chair."
Slie wasnn' young, slie wasiia' auld,

But ju.st at ween the twa;
Her cheeks, her lips, were rosy red,

Her neck was like the snaw.

SKETCHES AND ANECllOTES.

It plcascrrme mucklc to observe

Shelkept her house in order.
It pleased ine^mair whi*n I observ'd

She wore a widow's border;
And as she made the wheel lice 'round

My hoi>€S and fears iucreas'd,
At ilka birr my heart played spring.

And fluttered in my breist.

She spak' aboot the rook and reel,

The rowans and tlie wcxj',
But faith, I took mair interest in

The widow's hinny mou'.
At length, I said: "I'm mair than pleas'd

To watch the spinnin' art;
I'll now away, which proves the say

"That best o' friends maim part.' "

She lookit doon at her black goon,

Then cried: '*0h, wae betide ine,"
She drapt the thread; the wheel stood still,

Then she sat doon aside me I
But to mak' a lang story short,

We soon gat booked and marrit,
And while we coo about the hoosc,

The wheel rests in the garrit !

♦Cainlachie is situated in the County of T^niliton, near Sarnia, Ontario.

; '/

ill

HE STOOD AND GROANED.

John Heiton had an anld liorse and the poor beast
turned unco ill and died. We were a' hits o' hairns
then, and afore its death John wouM froqtiently ask us
to ioup into his cart, and there we would sit as proud as
kings, knowing no care. Yet that is not true, for my
chief care was to sit aside bonnie Dorothy Douglas and
tak' her hand in mine for fear she wad fa' over the
wheel. When us bairns were coming out of the school,
John, and a few more men were carting awa' the horse
to bury it out of sight, and we all silently followed.

HK ETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

h.r

l!'--

I i ' '

When they came to the place they flung the animal into
a hole, and John stood and sighed and groaned. On
hearing this William Ramsey said, '* John, man, I won-
der at ye ; ye are making as mickle wark as if ye had
lost your guidwife Tibbie." (^uoth John, " I wad
sooner that it had been Tibbie, for, dear me, wi' little
fash, I could soon get anither wife, but where in a' the
earth can I get £5 to buy anither horse ?"

HE HAD THE LUMBAGO.

Anna Dunlop was as innocent as a lamb, sweet as a
rose, and as pure in heart as the dew drop that hangs upon
the heather bell. Now, Anna, along with her grandfather^
paid a visit to some friends in the city of Glasgow.
One day her grandfather, who had become old and don-
nert, was lost and could not be found high or dry. She
took a notion in her head that he had fallen into the Clyde^
and, in consequence, she sitated her fears to a policeman.
Quoth he: " Are there any marks about him by which
he could be identified ? " " Yes," said she, " my poor»
poor grandfather had the lumbago in his back."

ACTION AND RE- ACTION.

Scotland may boast and brag of her Rob Roy Mc-
Gregor, and England of her Robin Hood, but we, in
Detroit, can with more reason boast of Peter Garr, who
is a married man and a fearless fireman before the peo-
ple. Previous to saving lives he knows no fear, but
when they are saved his nerves begin to fire up, and hcr
feels as if some evil spirit was playing at hide-and-seek
about the innermost recesses of his head and heart. He
finds out that he is made up of a bundle of nerves, and
is as cross-grained as an old maid on the road to a

ii!^

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

flfr

dentist with a mustard plaster on her cheek. I have
been informed that Peter on those trying times will even
snap and snarl at his beloved wife. Mrs. Garr, however,
is an amiable wife, and she has the good sense not to
retaliate, as well she knows that fire cannot be quenched
by tow. She does not even show the white of her eyes.
She will hurry up and make him a good strong cup o'
tea and butter his toast, and then she will sit down by
hie side, and then, to use an old saying, she just " jouks
and lets the jaw gang by." Like Zeno of old, she ha»
discovered the grand power of silence.

My dear, go bring my tiddle ben,

And also your guitar.
And let us sing wi' right guid will —

God save brave Peter Garr.

How fain I'tl be if I could write

A song in double metre,
The burden of the song would be,

May heaven save our Peter.

A MELANCHOLY COW.

Rob. Shaw rented a sma' farm ca'd the Townhea*!.
He was a man o' large dimensions and strong in bone
and muscle. His wife, Rebecca, on the other hand, was
a sma', nervous kind o' a woman, and unco quic'.c o' the
temper. Wi' a swift hand she wad thrash the bairns,
cats and dogs afore they kent what end o' them was
upmaist. Ae mornin' she rose very early and went out
to milk the kye, leaving Rob in bed snoring away like
to ding doon the rafters. When she cam' in again she
looked at him and she said : "R<»b, are ye no up yet 't
As sure as ony thing ye are just lying there like a big
melancholy coo wi' a gowan in her mooth. Come ool o'
that or I'll brain ye'^n the spot."

-"Co.vers.f--.^^

BIBLiOTHECA )i

**dViif*r>s'^

100

HKKTCIIB8 AND ANECDOTES.

.'A

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if'

(

BABBY BELL AND JOCK REID.

Auld Babby Bell lived in cot,

South frac the Twinlaw hill,
Where blooms the bonnio heather bells,

Where winds the wimplin' rill.
Her hearin' wasna'very guid

Since ever she was born;
To kirk or market she aye took

Her muokle hearin' horn.

Ae day she gacd wi' pechin' speed

To Lockermacus toon,
And ga'e instructions to Jock Reid

To mak' a pair o' shoou.
"Now Jock" quo' she. " do make them neat,

For I am gauii awa'
To visit Tani, my eldest son,

Wha' lives in Edincraw.

She held her trumpet to her lug;
Jock sent these words doon through —
" Thi slioon ye'll get will not disgrace

The Duchess o' Buccleugh.
" I'll send them ower on Monday nicht
Wi' knack-kneed Robbie Rule,
I'll pass my word he'll haund them in
As he gangs hame frae scule."

Now Babby cried, "Jock, sew them weel,

And pick the best o' leather;
On Tuesday I maun see mj' Tam

In spite o' wind or weather ! "
At time agreed Jock sent the shoon ;

Woes me ! on Tuesday morn,
Auld Baddy limpit in on him,

Wi' her lang hearin' horn.

Then she cried out, " Ye worrie-cow^

Ye scorpion, and ye cheat.
The shoou ye've made are twisted round,

And no framed for my feet,
'* I'm like a hen wi' a wud-leg;

Man, Jock, ye'll end my life,
Or turn me by degrees into

A harplin' China wife.

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

101

" Hech mc ! they're just a perfect botch,

Then* shapit like the moon.
I've got the toothache in my taes,

Oh. Jocic ! pu' all my shoon ! "
He lookit doon, lie stood amaz'd,

He saw an unco sight,
And tlien lie cried, " Oh, mercy me,

The left's upon tlie right ! "

He rive<l tliem ufT, he ramed them on.

Quo' she, " That gi'es me ease,"
Then Jock leugh like to burst his sides

As he rose afT his knees.
" Losh me. " slie cried, "ye've wrought a change,

1 11 now loup like a troot,
But a' the shoon that e'er I had

Were aye made even-oot."

" Now 'fore I gang, Jock Ueid, I say
Mang things I ken there's aething —
The wisest man. though e're sae wise
He just kens next to nuething !
" Ye think I'm gaun to Edincraw !
That project has miscarried.
Quid faith ! I'm gaun another road —
I'm gaun to get married."

BETTER BE SURE.
Polwarth, in Berwickshire, has gained a world-wide
fame from the old song entitled " Polwart on the
Green." It was in that place that Peter Clinkscaies
resided. Somehow he got it into his head that he would
die an untimely death unless he got married. With a
view of self-preservation and being deeply in love, he
waited on Thomas Halliday and he said, "Father-in-
law, I am gaun to marry your daughter." Quoth
Thomas, "Do ye think ye can keep a wife ? " "I think
I can," quoth Peter. " Ye think ye can," quoth Thomas ;
" ye had better think twice aboot it, and be unco sure
aboot it afore ye begin."

li'

102

HKKTCilBM AM) ANKCDOTKK.

)

III'

li'i

.,1

A FUACTIors HORSE.

John Mid«llein!iH had a Hue horHe, hul it wan per-
fectly iiseh'SH. It would neither run in cart or gig or
draw the harrow. One day John hitched it into a <!art,
but it stood as immovable as the everl.isting hilU. John
was at his wit's end. At lengtti he ordered one of his
iiired men to tie an old torn eat to the tail of it — hea<l
downwards. The torn cat at first went swinging like
the pendulum of an eight-day clock. At length it
began to fuiT, spit and send its claws into the haunches
■of the horse, then the horse reared and plunged, while
John Middlemass held on like grim death, then off it
flew along the road like the very wind. A number of
people thought John and the cat would \to killed, but
they all returned safe home. The horse turned out well,
and remarkable to state, that ever afterwards when it
saw a cat it would tremble in lith and limb, and shake
as if it had discovered perpetual motion. To prove the
perfect do'^ility of the animal, John afterwards pre-
sented it to an old sweetheart of his who had jilted him
in his early years.

DOING HIS BEST.

Aaron Lycll was a watchmaker, full of sounding
words and phrases, which he inherited from his mither
— a woman whose tongue was as long as from here to
the back o' beyond. One day James Allardice called
upon Aaron, and he said, " How are you this morning,
Mr. Lyell ? " Quoth he : " Thank ye, thank ye, Mr.
Allardice, I am still keeping upon the vertical, and still
working away amang the pivots, springs, bushes and
washers, and doing my very best, wi' a willing hand and
heart, to oil the wheels o' time, and keep the sands o'
life frae runnin' doon. Mr. Allardice, your watch must ■

m '

AKRTCIIKS AND A.VErrtOTRH.

KK)

tmrely be wantin* cleaning K, "s lime — for «ir, yo ken,
I ha*e aften heard niv mitlier nay, wha in now ilea«t hihI
gane, that cleanlineHH is next to godlineHM.**

TIIK FAIRIES.

riiiHcritKHi to JiiMBPii TAVi.on. Km]., I)««trutt.l

The fairies live anitiiig tlu- liilis
Aside tli(; l)<)niii<' winding rills ;
In simmer days liow sweet tlu-y siii)».
And (ianct? around the fairy rin>^ !
With joy tliey wave their faiiy wan<l,
And clasp each other by the hand.
And now ihev lave in crvstal wells,
And dream amang the heather liellH !

When glouniin' comes, and idght is ni>;h,
And moon and stars shine in the sky,
Then band in hand away they go,
To seek the couch o{ urief and woe —
To smootli the pillow of despair.
And turn aside the hand of care,
And beckon angels from above
To sing the songs of pence and love !

"O, hush, my child, " a mother sings—
" Come,'fairio8, come on golden wing.-* ;
O, rest, my child, I see them now,
A-tlitting rotmd your bonnie brow ;
They come, my love, from glen antl leu,
To bring content to you and me.
O, sleep, my child, I see them now.
A-weaving roses round your brow."

I Note. -Heotland at one i^iriiHl poHsesst'd a gn-at nuinlwr of spiriin, visi-
ble and invisible, Kood and liad. Tin- following list of tlu-s»> was ci>nipileti
from verbal and written souroes, by thf late Dr. Oeorgf Mendersoii. authoi-
of "Rhymes and I*roverbs of Berwiekshire : " "Elves, haRS, fairieH. !>uU-
hegKani, spirits, witches, urchins, satyrs, pans, fann<*s, sylvans. kit-witti-the-
«andlestick, tritona, kelpies, centaurs, dwarfs, giant.s. imps, calcars,
a&sypods, conjurers, nymphs, chaiiKlings, incubus, brownies, tlu- spoorey.
the nian-in-the-oak. the hell-wain and Tom Tumbler." In consideration of
the above list, and of the fearful tales told round the fireside in tiie long
winter nights, it is somewhat remarkable that we still retain uur reasoning
faculties.]

its I

104

SKKTCIIBS AND ANECIiOTES.

1;^

SPIGOT AND PIN.

To those unacquainted with barrels I may make men-
tion that the spigot is connected with the faucet, and the
pin is placed on the arch of the barrel for the purpose
of regulating the outcome of the liquor. One morning
Robert Fulton was obliged to proceed to a town some
miles off. Before he started, his wife thus said :
" Robert, whene'er ye gang to that town ye never ken
when to come back. Now, Robert, ye have come to
that time o' life when ye ought to be mending your
manners, and to make it your study to add no more
trouble to my loving heart. Now, like a good man try
and do your best and strive wi' all your might not to
come home in untimely hours." " Robinnia," he
cried — for that was her maiden name — " I swear to you
by spigot and by pin, that I will be back lang afore the
hens place their nebs below their wings." With this
he embraced her and went upon his waJ^ Alas ! prom-
ises are like the crusts of pies, when they are short they
are easilv broken. Dear me, he returned at the black
hour of midnight, and quoth Robinnia : " Robert,
before ye went away did ye not swear by spigot and by
pin that ye would be home before the hens had gone to
roost 'r* " " Robinnia," he cried, " it was an error o'
judgment — blast my buttons, I dinna ken what tempted
me to swear by the spigot and the pin."

A FINE START.

We had an old man in our parish of the name of
Thomas Denholm, and he had more dry sayings
than there are days in a dry summer. One day my
father informed him of the death of a man who had just
died worth £'20,000. '* Man, he's weel off," quoth
Thomas. "It will gi'e him a tine start in the next world."

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

105

SWEET BELLE ISLE.

[luscribed to James 0«AHAM, Esq.. Detroit. |

" Will ye slip on your shoon. gtjidwil'e,
Will ye draw on your jroou, gtiidwife, .
And gang wi' me and crack awhile
Amang the groves o' sweet Belle Isle?

"I'm sick o' city din, guidwife,
Its heat, its dust, and sin. guidwife.
Provisions in your basket pile,
And we'll awa to sweet Belle Isle."

" Your offer I will take, guidman.
And quick a scone I'll bake, guidman,
O ! we might wander monie a mile
To find a match to sweet Belle Isle.

"A guid fat hen I'll roast, guidman.
And we'll ha'e tea and toast, guidman;
And till the sun steals o'er the plain;
We'll live our young days o'er again."

It no took lang to tutn the key,
Syne off, they gaed wi' gbidsome glee;
My faith they spent the day^ in style
Amang the shades o' sweet Belle Isle.

When they gat hame the guid wife tells
How weel they had enjoyed theirsel's,
And since she's said and has maintain'd
Belle Isle is paradise regain'd !

A CHRISTIAN COUNTRY.

John Rutherford landed in Detrrit from Scotland,

and his shoe-laces gave way. He went into a store

kept by a Dutch woman and inquired if she had a pair

o' whangs. At this question the woman lianded him down

a pair of tongs. "Mercy me! "cried John, as he went

out at the door, "1 wish I was safe back to a ('hristian

country wliere the ae body kens what the ither body

says."

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106

SKETCHES AND AXECDOTES.

III'

IlK

PAY ON DELIVERY.

At the root of the fairest flower a grub will be
found, and some landlords, behind the bar, will entice
the unwary to grul> and dig from their pockets their
very last bawbee. David Fleming was a landlord, but
his rule of conduct was " that right wrongs no man."
One day John Scott went into his bar-room, and he said,
"David, I want a dram." After drinking the dram,
John threw down twent^'^-five cents, and David handed
him the change. " David," quo' John, " Keep the
change, for, if it is the will o' Providence, I might be
requiring another dram." " Na, na," quo' David ;
" That will never do — that is contrary to the established
rules o' political economy. Put up your siller, John,
and take ray advice and pay on delivery."

WOMEN IN OUR HOURS OP EASE.

Sir Walter Scott, a countryman of mine, thus wrote :
" O, women, in our hours of ease, uncertain, coy and
hard to please." Some time ago I rested in the opinion
that my countryman, in so saying, had thrown a big
insult at the heads of the w'hole of the gentle sex. I
have, however, after more experience, been reluctantly
constrained to think that my countrvman was riijht and
that I was wrong. In proof : Robert Bruce was a res-
identer of Innerwick, and one morning his wife, Juden,
opened out the flood-gates of her wrath uj)on him. She
assailed him in such outrageous terms that would have
even made the blood of St. Andrew, the patron saint of
Scotland, curdle in his veins. She threw in his teeth a
whole catalogue of his transgressions, and the transgres-
sions of his forefathers for several generations back.
Robert listened to her with patience, as he had discov-

SKETCHES AND AXECDOTES. 107

ered that patience is a plaster for all sores. At last he
thought he would reprove her mildly, and he thus said •
Juden ye ought to have been born in heaven among
the angels instead of being born in Innerwick amona an
accursed race of blood-thirsty savages."

I WISH YE WELL.

Aukl Kirsty Scott packed up her kist

And wi' it gaed awa,
Alang the Gorbals till she cam'

Unto the Broomielaw
She saw a sailor and she said,

" If ye are sailing soon.
I wish ye'd take me and my kist

The length o' Greenock toon."

The sailor said, "Just gang on board,

And at the rising tide/
I'll hoist the sail and 'fore the gale

I'll take ye doon the Clyde."
Now when Auld Kirsty paid her fare

He scarce had time to thank her,
For off he sprang the deck alang '

And quickly raised his anchor.
At ilka port that they came to

Auld Kirsty .shoolf her tist,
And to the sailor roared, " Take tent

And no' thraw off my kist."
At twa three ports 1 lie sailor spoke

To Kirsty somewliat ceevil,
At last he cried, " You and your kist
May baith gang to the deevil."

On ruminating on these words,

He thought it very rude.
That he had spoken to tlic wife

In such an angry mood.
So when they came to Greenock port,

Quo' he, " I spoke ye wrang ;
I wish ye weel, and to the de'il

I hope ye winna' gang."

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108

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

11'
h

A QUEER KETTLE.

Jenny Douglas was an auld, antiquated maid, wi' a
nose that could split a hail-stone, and a tongue that
wagged frae raornin' till night like a lamVs tail. Ae
afternoon she said :

" I canna be bothered raakin' a fire to mak' a drap tea
to masel', sae I'll e'en thraw on ma shawl and tak' ma
tap in ma lap and gang doon to Mary Macalpin's and
dootless, whan the hour comes, if she has ony sense
remainin', she will invite me to tak' pot luck."

Sae awa she went and ga'e a bit rap wi' her knuck-
les on Mary's door. Mary cam' to the door, and
through common ceevility she couldna do mair nor less
than to ask her to come in and rest hersel'.

** The auld sinner," Mary muttered to hersel', " she
has come wi' the prospect o' takin' her tea wi' me, but
fient a drap will she get if ma name is Mary Macalpin."
Sae soon as Jenny gat settled on a chair she placed her
hands on her knees and began to entertain Mary wi' a'
the clashes and clavers o' the country side. The tea-
kettle was hangin' on the fire and, " Dear me," quo'
Jenny, " it's gettin' late, and as sure as the breath o*
life is in me, yere kettle is beginnin' to sing." Wi' this
Mary drew a lang breath, and quo' she, " Ma kettle's a
queer kettle; it aye sings twa lang hours afore it begins
to boil." Wi' this Jenny took the hint and she gaed
awa', and as she was gaun up the street she muttered to
hersel', " The poor silly wasp that she is; there's no ae
spark o' deacency in her whole frame. My certy, I'll
be bound ye that the very waters o' heaven will rin
up to the very highest taps o' the Lammermoor hills
afore ma shadow again darkens her door."

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

109

STRIKE THE IRON.
A young lass lived at Algonac,

And she was sweet and bonnie ;
She had a lad, and in her heart

She lo'ed him best o' ony.
He was a blacksmith to his trade,

And ae night when they met,
He said, " O, Mercy, let us strike

The iron when it's het."
Quo' she, "Oh, John, what do you mean ? "

Quo' he, •• There's mair than ane
Are striving sair, baith late and ere.

Your heart and soul to win."
She smiled and said, " I scorn them a',

I wish they would devauld ; "
Quo' he, " Let's strike the iron quick,

In case it should grow cauld.
I ha'e a house on yonder bank,
'Twas left me by my father ;
He left the smiddie free frae debt

To me and to my mither.
And 'fore my mither slipt awa',

A year by past come June,
She said, " My son. Oh. get a wife.
And settle cannie doon.
" My father was a man o' sense,
His words I'll ne'er forget.
His dying words were, ' Mind and strike

The iron while it's het.'
Now, Mercy, if ye'll be my ain,

I'll do my very best
To be to you baith leal and true,

So you can judge the rest."
Sweet Mercy blushed and ga'e consent,

John's mind Wius off the rack ;
He cried, " I'm now the proudest man

That breathes in Algonac."
And soon tho twa in wedlock's bands

Were welded and united ;
Now wi' his wife the brawny smith
Is perfectly delighted.

f«

110

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

I .

A DOG FIGHT IN THE DISTANCE.

Many years ago I met my worthy friend, Mr. Garry
Hough, in Toronto, Ont., and whose fame as an actor
is world-wide. He then informed me that he abhorred and
detested crowds. Meeting him the other day I inquired
" if his opinion regarding crowds remained unchanged?'*
" These opinions," he replied, " are more and more estab-
lished. For example, if I saw a dog fight in the distance
I would ring down the curtain."

YOU MAY GO.

The fishermen and fisherwives are a distinct class
from the Scotch folk proper. The fishermen catch the
fish, and the fisherwives carry the fish in creels upon
their backs to find a market. Their voices are very
melodious and it is pleasing, when in bed, to hear them
cry " Wha'U buy my caller oou ? " through all the
hours of the night. Some of these fishermen, when the
season comes, are in the habit of going to the north
seas in whalers for the purpose of catching whales.
These people, as a general thing, behave well, but when
the drink is in, their wits go out, and they behave very
uproariously. Rob Patterson and his wife, Jenny, one
day had a great uproar, Rob scowled at her and said :
" Jenny ye are ane o' the deevil's bairns, and ye may
gang to the deevil." He then went and got a few glasses
of whiskey, and then came home and said : " I am gaun
awa to Labrador to catch whales." Immediately on
making this observation she said: " Rob, ye may gang
to the deevil and catch deevils, and stay there till I send
for ye." At the conclusion of this story I designed to
annex an application, but on second consideration, I
considered that such was unnecessary.

: ,

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

Ill

GENERAL GRANT.

llnscribed to James N. Dean, Esq., Detroit.]

When reason was baiiislied, and treason arose,

And brother 'gainst brother dealt deatli-dealing blows,

And the words came as one from the lips of the brave —

"The flag of our fathers forever must wave ; "
And a hero arose in the midst of our woe,

"Forward I " he cried, " we must vanquish the foe ! "
But there's gloom on the earth, and there's gloom in the skies,
And the light burns dim in the room where he lies.

The foe is fuivancing — every eflfort they strain.

But back they are hurled again and again ;

And the shout of the victor is heard in the air —
"While liberty lives we shall never despair ;"

And the hero looks round on the death-stricken field —
" We must conquer or die, but we never will yield ! "

But there's gloom on the earth and there s gloom in the skies.

And the light burns dim in the room where he lies.

The sword's in the scabbard, the warfare is o'er,-

May the din of the battle be heard nevermore;

And now through the length and breadth of the land,

May brother meet brother with heart and with hand;

May the past be forgot, and may bitterness cease.

And the watchword be ever, "come, let us have peace ! "

But there's gloom on the earth, and there's gloom in the skies,

And the light burns dim in the room where he lies.

THE CUTTING OF THE CORSETS.

The minister of our parish had a face as calm and
composed as a pelhicid pool. After being ordained to
the ministry he was only known to have laughed once,
and that was when he was troubled with the kink-hoast,
and he sent for the doctor to examine his lungs. After
a fair examination the doctor informed him that they
were as strong as a pair of blacksmith's bellows. Hence
the result. When he met men upon the road tliey would
lift their hats to him, and when he met women they
would courtesy to him, and when he met boys or girls

113

SKETCHES ANP ANECDOTES.

(

they would blush and hang down their heads and look
like condemned criminals. One day this melancholy
man — " for melancholy had marked him for his own " —
waited on Mrs. Helen Cleghorn, who received him with
great humbleness. After wiping the dust oflf the chair
with her apron she desired him to sit down, which he
did. Now, Mrs. Cleghorn had a son who had not
reached the years of discretion, and he began playing
with childish glee about the minister's knees. On
observing this the minister said : " Mrs. Cleghorn,
your son seems to be very fond of me." Whereupon,
and without a moment's consideration, she replied :
" O, I dinna' wonder at that, for children are always
fond of dogs and daft folk." She had no sooner uttered
these words when vexation struck her upon the fifth rib
and down she fell on the floor in a dead faint. Some
time after this most distressing and melancholy event
took place, the writer of these lines took up his quarters
in the city of Edinburgh. On revisiting my natal
ground I called upon Mrs. Cleghorn, and the remainder
of the storv had better be told in her own words : " Yes,
yes, Andrew, ray man, I had no sooner said the last
word, than doon I fell on the floor like a dying duck
in a thunderstorm." " And how did thev revive ve,
Mrs. Cleghorn," I inquired. '* Revive," she replied, " my
faith, I got a fine revival. The minister and my guid-
man got knives and ripped ray corsets into ribbons, so
I was obliged to buy a pair o' new anes." " And Mrs.
Cleghorn," I inquired, " if it is a fair question, what did
ye do with your old anes ! " " Andrew," she said, " I
was unco mad about it, but as a shut mouth catches no
flies, I just gathered tliem together and flung them on
the back o' the Are."

8KETCHK8 AND AXKCUOTKS,

113

CURING A FAT WIFE.

A doctor livVl this side o' Lethe
Kened by the name o* Abernethy,
And what gives me great satisfaction.
He was a man o' Scotch extraction.
For e'en the bells in school and steeple
Proclaim they're Heaven's own chosen people!
But here the truth must be laid bare,
The doctor was inclined to swear,
And curse all kinds of shams and flummery,
The vain pretenses and sic lilte mummery,
And on the saying would descant.
"That folk wha wadna' work should want. '
Great was his skill, for we're assur'd
That many a desperate case he cur'd,
And when his guinea-fee was reapit,
Fu' brawly he kent how to keep it.

Ae morn a fat guidwife fell sick,
She roar'd, "Rin for the doctor, quick;
Oh ! mercy on us, dear sakes me,
I'm just as ill as ill can be;
My thoughts they canna be deceivers,
I've got my share o' burning fevers,
My lips will scarcely part asunder,
And oh ! my mouth's as dry as tinder;
My leet o' life is near-hand tied,
Oh ! lift me canny to my bed;
And when I'm ance amang the claes.
Ye soon will see me end my days."

Wi' mony a rug and furious rive
Tliey laid her on her bed alive;
Certe.s ! it was a jol), I trow,
It raised the sweat on ilka brow,
Wi' their big load they well mii,^lit gro.m—
Her net gross weight was fourteen stoiK.

The doctor to lier bedside rusli'd,
He gazed, and evt-ry breath \v;is lui.sh'd.
As some had liarbor'd llio delu.siou
That she was near-hand her conclusion'

h 'I <

114

BKBTCIIES AND ANECDOTES.

He felt her pulse— quo' he, *' what's wraiig ?"

Quo' she, " I'm no worth an auld sang,

Oh ! doctor, dear, I'm niair than sick,

I'm unco sure I'm sinking quick.

Doctor ! my head is like to rive,

It buzzes like a hornet's hive;

My head, my head, my brain, my brain,

Is whirrlin' round like a mill-stane.

My heart, it fa's, it jumps, it stounds,

As if 'twad burst its very bounds;

Doctor, oh, man, my very hair

Rives at the roots o' black despair.

Wi' herbs or drugs, come (juickly fill me."

But oh, in mercy dinna kill me."

The doctor then, upon inspection.
Wrote out a cure for her aflliction,
And ere the writing was begun.
She handed to him one pound one.

" To take the pound," quo' he, " I'm willing.
But, madam, take ye back the shilling.
And quickly send to the first shop
And get a good strong skipping-rope,
I cannot say that I bemoan ye.
Your sickness lightly rests upon ye.
The truth within a nutshell lies.
Ye need a course o' exercise;
I scarce can speak to you discreetly.
Your nerves have master'd j'ou completely.
And now ye howl for doctor's potions
To drown your vain, accursed notions.

"Jumping," he cried, "will soon recruit ye,
Then fewer ills ye'll ha'e aboot ye."
He growl'd and said, " Keep my directions,"
Then left her to her ain reflections.

My faith, if I'd been in his shoon,
I wadna' hurried alf sae soon.
Wi' solemn face and words I vow,
I'd stopt to see her swing the tow.
I'd blythely gi'en o' gowd a gowpen
To see the sonsy guidwife loupin.'
I'm more than sure 'twould been a sight.
Would filled me with supreme delight.

UKBTCIIES AND ANECDOTES.

lift

Her conduct we must all appluud,
For in conclusion, I muy add,
Thut she began with efforts slow
To battle 'gainst the lazy foe;
She followed up the doctor's rules
And deftly sprang o'er chairs and stools.
Nature prevail'd, and the guidwife
Took out another lease o' life.
Her case obtain 'd great notoriety
In all the circles of society ;
And furthermore, the doctor's name
Re-echoed from the trumps of fame.

.'ii >|
■ »

GANG, GANG, GANG, MR. BRISBANE.

Greenlaw is situated in the bonnie border land.

Although its population is small, it is a town of some

pretensions. It is the county town of Berwickshire, and

on that account the inhabitants consider themselves

a kick above the common. On the principal street

stands firstly the church, secondly the jail and thirdly

the court-house. One day a stranger entered the town

and he described these three buildings in the following:

couplet:

"There stands the gospel and the law,
Wi' hell's hole between the twa."

In this town Duncan Gowdspink resided, and he was
a most determined poacher. lie was light of limb and
as cunning as a fox. I knew him well. In fact, to tell
the plain truth and shame the deil, I was once within
an ace of being related to him. He met my aunty one
night and he proposed, and asked her if she would
deliver up to him her hand and heart, but she said:
" No, Duncan, I am under great obligations to you for
your offer, but your offer I can by no means accept, as
Duncan, Oh, Duncan, I have got other fish to fry.

lie

SKETCH EH AND ANKCDOTEH.

■ I

I' I

III:

N. B. She afterwards got married to Stephen Kinghorn
and became the mother of a large family. Duncan
also got married to Martha Boghead and he also be-
came the father of a large family. So, by this the
reader may perceive that it is an ili wind that blows
nobody good. One would have naturally thought, that
•o situated, Duncan would have renounced his poach-
ing proclivities, but such was not the case. One night,
alas, he was caught with his gun in one hand and a hare
in another, and for this he was thrown into hell's hole.
How dismal were Duncan's thoughts when his mind re-
verted to his beloved Martha and his numerous family.
Unruffled minds can enjoy sweet repose, but Duncan
could find no repose. It was as difficult a matter as to
catch a black sow on a dark night upon a bleak and bar-
ren moor. How he longed to obtain his liberty. He
resembled Sterne's starling, described in his "Sentimen-
tal Journey." He wanted to get out. The cell door
flew open, and Alexander Brisbane entered. " Oh, Mr.
Brisbane," cried Duncan, " I am glad ye ha'e come; Oh,
Mr. Brisbane, for the love of all the saints and sinners,
dead and alive, go and get Jasper Aitchison to come
and bail me out." "Jasper Aitchison," replied Mr.
Brisbane, " He would be the last man to bail you out.
To ask him to bail you out would be nothing but stark
madness and a waste of words. No, no, Duncan, I
winna' gang — it wad just be as needless as throwing
water on a drowned mouse." " Oh, Mr. Brisbane," cried
Duncan, "for the sake o' jNfartha, Peter, Tom, Nell,
Jean and the rest o' ray family, gang, gang, gang and
ask him, Mr. Brisbane, and I will stop here until ye
come back." "Duncan," replied Mr. Brisbane, "Try
and keep your ^\'md as calm as a cow chewing her cud

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTRH.

117

on a rainy day, and make yourself as comfortable as eir-
curaBtances will permit, and remember that when a man,
or even a woman, jLjets into hell's hole it is not a very
easy job to get out again."

SCOTLAND.

[Inwribeil to Alkx. Forbkh, Esq., Chicago.]

Scotland I How glorious i.s the theme

That in the days bygone,
Your patriot sons undaunted stood.

And battled for their own.
Time .ifter time the f(X' advanc'd.

Your rights to trample down,
To blot your name forever out,

And grasp your royal crown.

Your sons could never bow the knee,

Or brook the tyrant's chains ;
Nature has written on your hills—

" Here freedom ever reigns."
Sons of the brave, your liearts were one

That Scotland must be free ;
Now tar and near the cry is heard,

" Wha dares to middle me ? "

Forward ! See Scotland's gallant sons

Dash on to meet the foe,
Their strong riglit hand grasps freedom's sword.

And freedom guides the blow.
Their bows are bent their swords are keen,

And with their matchless might,
Strongly they stand to crush the wrong,

And battle for the right.

The battle rages fierce and fell,

Till o'er the deadly fray
The welkin rings, " The victory's won,"

Scotland has won the day.
While heather blooms on Scotland's'hills,

And while her thistles wave,
Freedom will tlourish ou her soil

And guard the warrior's grave,

^Si

\ .: <

h I

118

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

I*'
fr,.

A MISTAKE.

Mercy Ramage was a prudent wife, and a kindly-
one. At times, however, sbe allowed her nerves to get
the better of her, and on these occasions she neglected
to temper her tongue. One morning she rose from bed
from off her wrong side, and gave Caleb, her guidman,
some sharp words which pierced him to the quick. He
could st.md it no longer, bo he went out and went up
and sat on top of the chimney. Mercy lost sight of
him. At last she saw him, and she cried out: "What
are ye doing up there?" Caleb answered: "I am
taking Solomon's advice wha says, 'that it is better to
dwell in a corner of the house-top than with a brawling
wife in a wide house.' " " Blast ye," she cried, " I will
soon bring ye down out o' that." She went in and
kindled a rousing fire and the reek went up and down
came Caleb bellowing like a hungry cow in a strange loan.
He rubbed his eyes and cleared his windpipe, and then
he muttered to himself, " Solomon must have made a
mistake."

ARE YOUR OWN SKIRTS CLEAR ?

One day Robert Rathbone said to John Prettyman
" That the Prince of Wales is setting a very bad exam-
ple to the world at large by his gambling proclivities."
" Stop ! " cried John. " Blackstone says ' that every
man's house is his castle,' an heir apparent must have
some kind of in-door amusement. Sir, no tree takes so
deep a root as prejudice, and malice seldom wants a
mark to shoot at. Before we condemn others wt should
see that our own skirts are clear. The prince was born
with the silver spoon in his mouth, but we were born
with the wooden ladle. Sir, it is your poverty that has
Jkept you in bounds. If you had been born rich I have

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

119

•no doubt but that you would have j)roved a most notor-
ious profligate, and I, with original sin dwelling in my
heart, might have followed in j-our footsteps. Sir, pray
remember the old saying, ' that the best of us would do
little for God if we thought the devil was dead.'"

A WET WEAVER.

In Earlstown a weaver lived,

Wlia aft went on the batter :
Wlien comitig off, he. like the ducks,

Took kindly to the water.

Though hail-stanes dashed and Boreas blew

A raving wild oration,
The weaver from his bed would spring

With great precipitation.

And bicker forth with wild, wierd looks.

And to the Leader rin,
And cast his claes, and break the ice.

And instantly loup in.

And there he'd swatter, dook and plunge,
And shiver, shake, and cough.

Which exercise had the effect
To calm and cool him off.

One day when drawing on his drawers.
He spoke with solemn measure—
" My faith, I'm sure a drachm o' health
Is worth a pint o' pleasure."

A WI.^II.
Thomas Morrison resides in Detroit. lie is distantly
related to Jeamie Morrison, celebrated in Afot her well's
unequalled ballad or tliat name. He wears a wig but
he disna' want onybody to ken, as he is at present ettel-
ing to get married again for the third and last time.
During the dry spell he said: "I wish frae the very
i>ottom o' ma heart that the windows o' heaven wad
open, for the very hair o' ma head is withering awa'.

»>

120

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

IN AND OUT

Charlev Stewart was a IIi<jhlandman who cam' dooii
to the Lowlands o' Scotland and got married to Maggie
McWatt. Now Maggie, had a house o' her ain and she
also possessed baith sense and siller. For a space they
were like two wood-pigeons, extraordinary fond o' ane
anither. But for some cause the bonds o' love that
existed suddenly gave way. Charlie got dour and per-
verse, and, Maggie got sulky and sour, so much so
that if she had looked into a wash-tub fu' o' spring-well
water it would have turned into vinegar. Alas ! the
course of married love, sometimes, does not run smooth-
ly. Maggie whistled Charlie into her house to the tune
" Welcome, Royal Charlie," but she whistled him oot
wi' a big stick, and he ran into the woods and he sat
doon at the rout o' a tree and he mournfully sang:
"Oh, why left I my hame,
Wliy did I cross the deep."

INFORMATION WANTED.

Robert Jobson is a very Avorthy man, and a resident
of Detroit. He is becoming old, and age has begun to
confuse his brain and jumble his judgment. Last win-
ter a barking cold caught hold of him and gave him a
severe shaking up. On his recovery he found out that the
drums of both his ears had got broken and the result
was that Robert was unable to catch sounds with alac-
rity. One day he was proceeding up Jefferson avenue
for the purpose of purchasing a hearing trumpet. He
was accosted by a stranger, and quoth the stranger,
" Sir, can you tell me where the city hall is ? " Quoth
Robert, " I dinna ken ony body o' that name. She nuisl
be living out in the suburbs."

SKETCHES AXn AXEroOTES

121

THE liUXG AND SNUFF CURE.

Ilnscribed to Dn. J. R. (TBrien. Detr„it.|

In Edinbro' a doctor lived

Not far from Holyrood,
And lie was known 'for miles around

By name o' Sandy Wotxl.
He was a man, lang, lank and lean,

And somewhat bent and crookit,
Yot he was strong in lith and limb.

Far stronger than he lookit.

He had great skill o' human ill,

And (juick upon occasion,
Your doom he would pronounce without

A moment's hesitation.
He was a modest dressing man,

He scorned a' chains and lockets,
But he had wisdom in his head,

And lancets in his pockets.

He also carried certain drugs

Commended in his thesis,
And these he gave to folk who were

Tormented with diseases.
For horses, cuddies, mules or gigs

He had nae brew or notion.
He only used his ain twa legs'

By way o' loconiotion.

And what is mair whene'er he gaed

To visit auld or young,
He never failed to take wV him

* great big hazel rung.
One nigl.t a councilman grew ill,

His name was Andrew Young'
His pulse was high, his spirits low.

His nerves were a' unstrung.

Faith he was ill there was nae doubt,
But something did assure him,

That Sandy Wood wi' his great skill
Would do his best to cure him

^S:j:

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122

SKETOHES ANI> AXKrOOTES.

And !iye he raved and better rav'd,
And roared "by a' tliat's good,

I'm goin.^ quick, I'm sinking fast.
Oh, <.<'vn\ for Sandy Wood.'

Now, Andrew liad a servant lass,

Her name was Jean M( Ivallop,
And for tlie doctcjr olT she ran

As fast as she could wallop.
Jean liad a fault, but it was sma'

And sctirce worth while to mention,
She snulred, but how she learne<l to sn'irt'.

Is past my comprehension.

Though Jean ran off, still Andrew cried,

"I'll soon be dead and gano,
I'll e'en be cauld e'er Sandy .sets

His fit o'er my door-stane.
Oh, Sandy, come — he winna come,

I'm sair inclined 1o doot it,
I'll hurry olT for him mysel'.

And he'll ken nought aboot it. "

And 60on he reached the d<x;tor's door,

And on a lassie seein',
He cried, " rin lass, k»ll Dr. Wood

That Andrew Young is deein'.
There's half a croon, now rin without

A moment o' delay,
Oh, flee, my sweet wee lassikic.

And tell him what I say.''

Then back he hurried to his hame.

And when upon the rout.
My faith, he little did jelouse

That he wad be found out.
When he was mounting liis doorstep,

Wi' a' his nerves unstrung.
Haith, Sandy Wood cam' in idiint

Wi' his big ha/el rung.

And on his skull he d(jon cam" ycrk.
Loud Andrew roared, ■" (>h, me.

Oh, doctor .stop, and by my .saul
I'll double up your fee '

SKETCHES AXn AVECDOTES.

123

Now, Jean McKallop had kept close

Upon the doctor's track,
As she'd a thought her mjuster would

Be dead e're she got back.

She saw the doctor ply his rung,

She cried, " guid guide us a',"
Then doon she rushed raang pots and pan.s

And fainted <;leau awa.
The doctor went, loud Andrew roar'd,

" Rise, Jean, he's broke my skull '
Then Jean arose and to his nose

She held her sneeshin' mull.

A CLOSE CALL.

The winding Whitadder is a tributary of the silvery
Tweed, and on its banks the Laird of Bankhead had an
cBtate. He was a grunting, gruesome old savage, and
as cross-grained as a badger in a barrel. There is an old
saying that " A blythe heart makes a blooming face,"
but his face was as free from bloom as is the woodland
rose bush in the gloomy month of December. He had
a brother who resided with him. I cannot place a high
estimate on his abilities, as he had none. In a word, to
use the language of that district, he was nothing more
nor less than a natural born idiot. One day the laird
and all his men drove the .sljrcjt to the banks of the
stream for the purpose of being i?horn. While
the shearing was progressing, the laird's brother,
to watch the operations, climbed up a tree
whose branches overhung a deep pool, lie was
sitting on one of the branches with a moderate
degree of comfort, when it suddenly broke, and down
he went as if he bad been struck by one of Jove's
thunderbolts. On observing which the sheep-shearerg
rushed down the bank to rescue him, but the laird

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124

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

roared out, "Stop, come back, he is of no earthly use,
let him drown and be done with him." However,
they pulled him out and held him up by the
heels for the purpose of allowing the water to gush out,
and then on the green grass they rolled hira round and
round. Suddenly he sprang to his feet, and for a space
stood shivering like a dog in a wet sack, and then after
looking all around the horizon, he roared out, " Mercy
me, where am I ? I must have had a close ca'."

SHE LOST HER WIG.

Harkin, James McAllister, relates the following; I
was born in an inlying part o' Scotland and Jean Mc-
Donald lived next door to rav mother. In course of
time Jean and I got booked, cried, and married. Now,
shortly after these interesting events took place we
took it into our heads to emigrate to America. Now,
observe ye, Jean had a grannie, and in consequence she
was my step-grannie, and nothing would serve her but
that she would shoulder arms and accompany us in our
perilous undertaking. When within sight o' land my
step-grannie was as bold as a flying dragoon, but rever-
ses will come whither or no. One morning she got out
upon deck, and she was no sooner out than a tempes-
tuous gust o' wind blew her wig overboard: "Bless
my soul and body," she cried, "James, I ha'e lost my
wig." " Tuts, never mind," I said, " I will borrow
another ane f rae the captain, wha keeps a lot o' them in
his chest in case o' accidents." On hearing this and
under bare poles, she looks round about her and then
she says: "Dear rae, the ground is a' covered wi'
water." "What nonsense, step-grannie," said I, '* dinna
ye see the land in the distan<'e V " " Na," quo' she, " I

our

my
jver-

out
ipes-

>les&

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

125

canna see it, yet I canna for one moment misdoubt its
existence. James, I ha'e turned unco sick — for the love
o' heaven carry me down below."

NATURAL WOOL.

[Inscribed to Robt. Reid, Esq., London, Ont.j

Tam Norrie grew sick — just as sick as sick could l)e,
And he said to his wife, "Oh. I doot I will dee.
I'm nearing the end, and as sure as a shot
Ye'U get married agam and I'll soon be forgot.
I wish ye wad hurry and slip on your shoon,
And rin a' the road awa doon to the toon,
And gang into the shop kept by Robbie McFee,
And buy me the best woolen sark ye can see. "

Now Nannie, his wife, was a smart kind o' body,
She ga'e her consent, and soon got hersel' ready ;
As oot at the door like a Untie she went
She cried back to Tammie, "Noo baud ye content,
And I will be back lang afore it is dark,
And, my certy, I'll buy ye a braw woolen .sark,
And I ha'e uae doot it will ease ye and mend ye
So live ye in hope, and may heaven defend ye."

Her thoughts were unsettled, and sair on the rack,
As she breisted the brae and gaed doon the sheep-track.
She gaed into the shop and said, " Mr. McFee.
For your life hurry up, man, and wait upon me,
Our Tammie's a' wrang — he's awa frae his wark,
And ance errant I've come, man, to buy him a sark."
He showed ner .some black anes, she cried in a crack,
*' Get awa wi" your black anes — I winna hae black I

What I want is a sark just as white as the snaw. "
Quo' Robbie, " The white anes will no' do ava,
There's some that are red — they're the best that I ha'e ;
Wi' finger uplifted these words she did say —
"I've seen living sheep, and I have seen dead anes,
But, Mr. McFee, I have never seen red anes ;
Ye may brag o' your red, and your black, and your blue.
But there's nane o' them a' like the natural woo."

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126

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

CONSOLATION REJECTED.

One day Tibbie Rintoul was cleaning np, and hIio
liad her whole house in a state of confounded confusion.
About mid-day anld Willy Rintoul, her good man, en-
tered with a pair of spectacles on the bridge of his nose.
He cried out, "Tibbie, is the dinner ready?" and im-
mediately fell headlong among a lot of pots and pans.
At this juncture Tibbie was on her knees scrubbing out
the porridge pot with a heather ranger, and quoth she,
" Dear rae, Willy, ha'e ye broken onything ? " " Dear
me," quoth he, " I am more than sure that I ha'e broken
baith ray legs." " Dear me," quoth she, " everything
is mixed wi' mercy. It might have been worse. Ye
ought to be thankfu' that ye didna break your neck."
" Thankfu'," quoth Willy, " I wadna shed a solitary
tear if I saw baith you and your infernal pots and pans
sunk in the deepest dens o' Yarrow."

NEVER MARRY A WIDOW.

Donald Handyside is a stone mason, and a married
man, and James Cobb stands ready to testify to the
truth of the following narrative. On account of
something going wrong with the links of his back and
the lappets of his lungs, Donald was unable to lift
either hammer or mell. He applied to a doctor, who
gave him outward and inward applications, which scat-
tered his ailments like the morning mists before the
rising sun. He went home and found his wife lying
snug in bed about 11 o'clock a. m. He cried out to her.
" O, Rachel, I ha'e grand news, and I will give ye the
CAidence," and with this he began dancing the High-
land fling. When he concluded, Rachel said: "O,
Donald, I was beginning to lose a' hope o' ye, but it

SKKTCIIRS AND ANECDOTES.

127

disiiii' do to cast a\v;iy the cog when tlie cow flings.
Now, wIk'I) your life ajtjicars to be prolonged, and, if
ony thing should hai»|t('n to nic, never marry a widow
unless lier first man was hanged."

HETIV IJLAIR'S COURTSHIP.

Away in Rcrwiiksliin-, iit a pliUf they ca' Driikemirc,

In the year eiglitrcii {'orty-iiinc,
There lived a maiden fair, and her name was Betty Blair,

And T thouiilit that IJetty was divine.

Doon beside the water edge, 'neutli tlie bonuic hawthorn hedge

I said, "My <larling Betty, dear,
(), will you marry me, and fill my heart with glee

Afore the wintry iiionths draw near'.'"

81ie turned away her head, "Oh, no," my Betty said

"You can never upon me prevail.
You live in Edenrraw, and you've neither house nor ha',

A frying pan, a pot, or a pail."

Then I said, "sweet Betty Blair. Oh, you lill me wi' despair,

My bosom, how il throbs with commotion,
If you will not take the ring, my body I will fling

From the brow (>f .St. Abb's to the ocean !

" When in the deep blue sea, Oh, my love I'll dream of thee.

How you tilled my true heart with wounds ;
But afore that I do this, I may tell you of my bliss.

My grannie's left me ten hunder' pounds ! "

Vou have all seen, 1 tiuppose, the dew drop on the rose.

On the viohtt. ami the lil}' meek.
But you never saw the tear tliat did instantly appear

Like a pearl on her rosy check I

Then she said, " My love, my pet, I deeply do regret

That 1 tilled up your heart with sorrow ;
All that I've got to say, we now will name the day.

My providing will be ready by to-morrow."

And now I'm free from care, for I married Betty Blair ;

And my cup rs tilled with delight,
For we've got a little elf, just the picture of myself.

And it squalls every hour o' the night.

128

SKETCHES AXD ANECDOTES.

A STOUT HEART.

My respected auld Grannie lived doon at Rigfit,
And she had a strong share o' auld niither wit,
Whatever transpired she'd ca' up the auld say, man,
" Aye put a stout heart unto a steep brae, man."

John Duflf broke his leg somewhere 'bout his knee,
She put on her specs and 'quo she, " Let me see,
John Duff, tak' advice, and no look sae wac, man,
Aye put a stout heart unto a steep brae, man.

" 'Twiid been worse, oh, John Duff, if yo had got a crack,
That had broken your neck or the banes o' your back,
Sae just be content in your bed ye maun stay, man,
And put a stout heart unto a steep brae, mim."

Meg Dods was a lass baith bonnie and braw.
She got married, but haith her guidraan ran awa,
Quo Grannie, " He's aff to the deil his ain way, mem,
Meg ! put a stout heart unto a steep brae, mem.

" It might ha'e been worse, some day or some night,
He might taken a stick and felled ye outright ;
O' ills choose the least, be glad he's away, mem.
Touts ! put a stout heart unto a steep brae mem."

Rab Dow lost his coo, .she loupd over the linn,

Quo' Grannie to Robin, " Hout ne'er fash your tin,

If it had been your wife ye might groan night and day,

man,
Rab ! put a stout heart unto a steep brae, man.

" A coo is a brute, but a wife is a wife,
Ye might ne'er get another a' the days o' your life ;
A far bettor coo ye may e'en get this day, man,
Sae put a stout heart vmto a steep brae, man."

But Grannie fell sick, she was wearin' awa,
And the minister cam' to lay (h>on the law ;
A chapter he read, then expounded a text.
But Grannie lay calinl}' and nae ways perplex'd.

At length slie spoke out, " I have heard what ye said ;
I ken I'm maist ready for shovel and spade ;
But ae thing consoles me — my hope and my stay, man,
I aye put a stout heart unto a steep brae, man."

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

129

Now Grannie slwps sound 'neath the lone willow tree.
And the thought o' her aft brings the tear to my e'e ;
She waA canty and kind, she needs uue defender,
Folk liked her the mair the mair that they ken'd her.

I'll ne'er see her mair, but I set up a stone.
Wi' her name and her age chisel'd neatly thereon,
And I added the words that she liked weel to say, man-
" Aye put a stout heart unto a steep brae, man."

BRING THE CAMPHOR.

I have received a great number of communications,
in which the writers display a great weakness of mind.
They vainly endeavor to brow-beat me out of the strong
ground I took, some two weeks ago, against their evohi-
tion balderdash. Though ignorance prevails, yet wisdom
still flings its banner to the breeze. Nature has drawn
dividing lines between the species. According to "Gold-
smith's Animated Nature " a canarv has never become a
crow. If mv canarv began to crow I would break its
neck and fling it into the back yard. Did any of Shake-
speare's sons or daughters evolve and make their mark?
Did Washington's sons carry the hod up the hill of
fame? No, for this simple reason, that he had none.
If ray blinking .illc.j will turn to Job, xl, 18, they will
find that the Behemoth's "bones are as strong pieces of
brass ; his bones are like bars of iron." Now, at this
date the Behemoth ouglit to be as large as the city hall,
and if ho had not become extinct he would have been a
valuable addition to oui* " Detroit ^Museum of Art." I
have the toothache. I do not desire to be pestered with
any more of those letters. Let us have peace — peace on
earth and good will among men and women. Martha,
ray dear, bring the camphor.

' J

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! J

HKKTCIIKS ANT) ANKCI>OTKS.

THE MlLLKliS i>Ar<JIITKH.

O, Liiriuncrmoor, your iiltn.-i iiiid dells.

Y(mr licjithcliul hills uii cvi'iy liiiiid.
Your wiiuliiii; stiTiiius, y(')u:' crystal wells

i'rocliiim you're nature's favor'd laud.

In yonder ^len, clean out o' inhid,
Has stood our vllla.uc, sae romantic,

Its match, I'nj sure, yell fail to lind
On either side o' the Atlantic.

Frae 'miiug the hills the wimling Dye
Glides on and on wi' ijjladsoine !j;1e,e ;

There cahnly like a child she'll lie

'Neath ha/el bunk and s|)readin^ tree.

By Crauirie-glen she winds aiang,
To Millwood braes she Iiums Ijer .i^reetini,

Mnir pleasing, sweeter is her san^

When wi' the water Watch she's meeting.

On Whinrig braes how aft I've strayed.

Where grow the ash tree aiid the rowan.
And there beneath tiieir sheltering shade

Sweet bloom the primrose and the gowan.

There grow the brume, the briar, the yew,
Wi' scented breath the air perfuming.

The cowslip and the violet blue,
The lily meek and imassuming.

When gloamin' folds her wings above.
Then comes the soft enraptured hour.

The hour that lovers fondly love
To tell their tale in yonder bower.

Or, wandering by the winding Dye,
Or, lingering in the silent grove.

To vow the vow. and heave the sigh.
And whisper in the ear of love.

Oh, love I the befit, the chiefest bliss.

The greatest boon to mortals given,
I trow the smile, the tender kiss,

Are foretastes of the joys of Heaven.

SKKTCIIES AND ANECDOTKS.

131

Tin; Dye glides past the uuld nK'iil-iiilIi;;

How oft, I'v.' hcjird its clunkin-,' cIuhi'i,
And K'lowcr'd \vi' wonder iit tin- wlicol,

As out and in the wuk-rs sjilasji —

And tiintldi- dooii wi' miglit and tnai!i,
And jaw and J.ip, and jouck and jcvcl ;

Sync prove wliaf saircs can explain.
Tliat water aye will tin<l its level.

Oil. weel I mind tiie nnller's Iia'.

Hut better still tiie miller's daiighler ;
ISlie was baitli honin'e. I)lytli and braw,

And moido a lad in vain had sou.^dit her.

Sweet blooms the rose at early morn,
Its fragrance tills the balmy air,

Its blush, it.s bloom, her cheeks adorn—
She was the fairest of the fair.

When simmer danced upon I he hills,
She was beloved and loved again

Hut 'fore the winter fro/.e the rills
Death came and claimed her a" his ain.

Sic grief was never ken'd, I ween.

By auld and young this grief was shar'd

They deck'd her in her bridal siieen,
And laid her in the auld kirk-yard.

At eve how sweet the blackbirds sing,
Their sangs re-echo 'mang the bra(.'s ;
Their sangs to recollection bring
J ij. builod joys of other day*.

My Ellen sleeps her long, last sleep,
And none are left so fair as she ;

Aboon her gravt- the willows weep,
Oh, weary heart. Oh. wae is me.

HAVE YE GOTTEN ANY sILLER ?
When Rodeiick Bowhill iviiohed mairs estate his
father, to lend him a helping hand, rented a farm and
placed him upon it, near tiie base of the Cheviot hills.
Matters went on smoothly for a time, but in the long

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132

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

run, Roderick felt a want about the house. After mature
deliberation he made up his mind to procure a wife. He
also made up his mind that when he got her, if reproof
was needed, he would reprove her very mildly and cor-
rect her with great caution. A number of farmers*
daughters were anxious to get a hold of Roderick, as
they knew, and their mothers knew, that whoever got
him would get a good down-sitting. But regarding
these matters it is no use in beating about the bush, for,
after a short courtship, he got married to Janet Part-
ridge, who was about his own age, and who had good
manners and a fair complexion. Shortly after the wed-
ding, Roderick, being a dutiful son, and being in need
of cash to buy Janet a silk gown for Sundays, paid his
parents a visit who received him with kindness, and his
mother eagerly incjuired how her daughter-in-law was
getting along. " Mother," cried Roderick, " she is an
angel ! She can milk the cows, skim the milk, ca' the
kirn, make the cheese and sell the butter, make the beds
and darn the sarks, and can ea' the cats, dogs, hens and
«wine out at the door \vi' a vengeance. My patience,
mother, no man can know wliat it is to get a good wife
till he gets one. Mother, she is like the bee, she works
houev from everv flower. Now, as a dutiful wife ouijht
to be encouraged wi' a present now and again, I wad like
to ken if ye ha'e gotten ony siller in your stockin-fit '? "

WHAT ARE YE DOING HERE ?

John Dalziel, a Canadian surveyor, some years ago
penetrated into what he considered an uninhabited dis-
trict at the head o' Lake Superior. lie was more than
astonished when he cam' upon a cleararice, and a man
wha had on a Tarn O' Shanter bonnet, and a pair o' breeks

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

133

made oot o' the Rob-Roy tartan. Quo' he, " What in a'
the waria are ye doin' liere?" Quo' he, "I'm knockin"
doon trees and fechtin' wi' bears and misquitoes."

JEANIE'S COMIN'.

Caledonia ! land of the glen and the mountain,
Land where the thistle waves proud o'er the plain,

Land of the streamlet, the lake and the fountain;
O, to be back to thy mountains again !

'Mang thy heathery braes the lark sings sae cheerie,
Ilka dell rings wi' nature's sweet sang,

The mavis and blackbird never grow weary
A-singin' sae blithesome the sinmxer day lang.

Aft I ha'e wander'd adown by the plantin',
That leads to the glen where ripples the Dye ;

Aft I ha'e listen'd the bonnie birds chantin'.
As if ilka ane wad in melody vie.

There the hazel, the slae, and the red cheekit rowan,

O'ershadows the primrose adown in the dell;
Sweet on the haugJi grow the cowslip and gowan,

And Scotia's ain tlower— the bonnie blue bell,
'Twas there by the Dye wi' Jeanie I parted,

As the sun stole awa yont the distant Mayshiel,
Cheerless the future, amaist broken hearted.

How fondly I said "dearest Jeanie, fareweel."
Now I am far frae the land o' the heather.

But Jeanie ..ill „ome o'er the wide rolling main,
Jeanie and simmer will come baith thegether.

And the winter o' care I will ne'er see again.

A MERCIFUL DISPENSATION.
Some young men are very [(articular, and some are
very slothful and slovenly. John Younger was very
orderly in consequence of iiaving the phrenological organ
of order sticking out of his head like a ram's horn.
One night he called upon his sweetheart, and after he
left she says to her mither, " JMither it was a merciful
dispensation of Providence— that I had my hair combed."

134

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

I'''

IS YOUR HONOR A PRIEST ?

[Inscribed to John MrOREOon, Esq., Detroit.]

About the beginning of the present century there
was born in the Gorbals of Glasgow a boy, whose father's
name was John Mclndoe, a wheel-wriglit by trade, and a
man who possessed a considerable share of general infor-
mation. In his leisure hours he studied mathematics,
but getting tired of it, he turned his attention to chem-
istry and became a warm admirer of Dr. Priestly, a
great polemical and philosophical dissenting clergyman
and author. As soon as the boy was ripe and ready to
be baptized he was carried to church, and in honor of
the phil(»sopher he was named Priestly Melndoe. In
course of time Priestly grew up, and, like his father
before him, learned the trade of wheel-making. He was
a general favorite among his companions; had a free and
easy way of his own, and instead of calling him Priestly,
they cut his name down to " Priest," and he became so
accustomed to this designation that he would have con-
i^idered it strange if they had called him by any other
name. In course of time Priest also got married, and he
became the father of several children. One day he
went home to his wife, and he said, "Mary, my dear, I
have made up my mind to throw down the hammer, I
have sworn a deadly oath that I will never make or
mend another wheel in Scotland." " Preserve us a' ! "
cried she, " Priest, what in a' the world has got into ye.
Ha'e ye lost a' the sense that nature has endowed ye wi',
or are ye only speaking for speaking's sake ? " "Mary,
my dear," said he, " I am in down-right earnest. I ha'e
made up my mind to gang to America, and the sooner
tliat your mind is made up to gang alang wi' me the
better it will be for a' concerned." " Weel," quo' Mary,

SKETCflES AND AX K« DOTES.

135

" I am willing to gang, and when we are baith in tho
Rame mind the better it will be to soon set out on onr
travels." After this conversation they sold off all their
effects, and bidding farewell to all their friends, they
took passage in a sailing vessel from the Clyde that was
V>ound for America. After the usual tossing up an(i
down on the broad Atlajitic, Priest and his family landed
safely at Quebec, and after a tedious land journey they
eventually settled down in the pleasant town of Peter-
boro, in Upper Canada. Here Priest met many of his
old friends and companions that had previously emi-
grated, and, being of a jovial disposition, I am sorry to
state that he became somewhat fond of the flowing bowl.
He had been on what is vulgarly called "a burst" for
several days, and on going up the street whom should
he meet but Jimmie McPhail, a distant relation on his
mother's side, and whom he had not seen for some years.
Jimmie had also a cargo of whiskev aboard, and when
the two met they were in such high feather, and so glatl
to meet with one another, that they began daTicing tlic
Highland fling on the public thoroughfare. After this
they adjourned to tlio public house to wet their whistles
and have a comfortable crack about Auld Lang Synt\
There they sat and sat and drank one another's hoaltii
till the dead hour of midnight. At length Priest said,
"Jimmie, let us gang hanu- and see Mary. Man, she
will be glad to see ye ; but afore we gang we'll ha'e ;<
red herrin' apiece and another dram. Landlord, bring
tis twa red herrings and anotlier half mutchkin." These
were brought, and after they were disposed of tlu-y paid
the reckoning, which took the last cent that was in their
pockets. The two then started on their journey, and
they had gone only a short distance when Priest said,

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136

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

" Oh dear me, man Jiramie, that red herrin' has made
me extraordinary dry, as sure as I am livin' I wad
gi'e a' the world for a bottle o' Prestonpan's Table-
beer." " I'm unco dry mysel','' <iiio' Jimraie, " but I
doubt we'll ha'e to content oursel's wi' a waught o'
Adam's wine, seeing tliat it is far on in the night and
our siller's a' done." "Aye, aye," quo' Priest, "'folk maun
pit up wi' mony hardships and inconveniences in this
wretched world, but there's ae thing that I am sure o*
and that's no twa, t*hat I'll choke lang afore I get hame,
and if ye get hame afore me just tell Mary, wi' my
kindest regards, that I died frae the effects o' eating a
Glasgow magistrate. But mercy on us a', Jimmic,
Providence is kinder to us than we deserve, for, as I
have a soul to be saved, there's a light in that window.
I'm sure it is a public house ; Ave'll gang in and see if
they'll no' take mercy upon us." On saying which the
two entered, but their consternation may be imagined
when they saw a woman lying in bed in the agonies of
death, and a number of friends and relatives gathered
round to see her draw her last breath. This melan-
choly scene had the effect of sobering the two worthies,
and although they knew no one in the house, they had
the common decency to sit down and act as if they had
come to pay a friendly visit. Thus they sat for some
time. At length Jimmie said, in a loud whisper,
"Priest, it is time to go." " Well," said Priest, and they
both rose up to go quietly away. Now, the husband of
the dying woman, who was an Irishman, overheard
this conversation, and he tapped Jimmie on the shoulder
and said, "Sur, may I be bowld enough to ask if his
honor is a priest ? " " That he is," said Jimmie, as he
gave Priest the wink, " but he is at present out of

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

137

holy orders, on account of taking a drop too much."
" Bedad," said Patrick McGuire, for that was the Irish-
man's name, " that fault, if fault it may be called, lies
at many a good fellow's door ; your raverence," he
continued, turning to Priest, " will ye plase look at my
dying wife, glory be to God, savin' yere worship's pres-
ence ; she is going fast, and not more than an hour ago
our own priest has given her absolution." On hearing
this. Priest heaved a deep sigh, and advanced to
the bed where the sick woman was Iving. lie re-
quested her to show her tongue, and then he gently felt
the pulsations of her wrist, and then he turned to Pat-
rick McGuire and the rest of the company, and said :

" Radamanthus, husky, niingo,
Horner, hipock, jinko, jingo,

this woman is sick, but as sure as the sun will rise
to-morrow, she will get well and rise from her bed, and be
the mother of many more children." These remarks so
tickled the fancv of the dving woman that she could not
resist giving a sort of hysterical laugh. On hearing which
a great load came off the mind of Patrick McGuire, and he
flung his hat up to the ceiling, and skipped with joy up
and down the floor. He then went up and looked at his
wife and said, " Be my sow), darlint, sure ye're not
going to lave us ; by the Holy St. Patrick, his raver-
ence, the blessed priest, says ye will yet be the mother
ave raanv more childer."

Curious to state that from tliat hour the sick woman

began to rally, and the lamentations of that house were

turned into joy. The bottle was set on the table, and

Priest and Jimmie took a good swig of its contents, and

then wished all and sundry good-night. After this

adventure. Priest felt so ashamed of his conduct that he
10

138

SKETCHES AXD ANECDOTES.

never tasted another drop of drink till his dying day.
About a year after Priest's midnijifht visit to Patrick
McGuire's house he was passing it one <iay, and the last
named individual, with great kindness, requested hira to
step in, to. which request Priest, with good will, complied.
There he saw Mrs. MeGuire with a tine child, a few
weeks old, in her arms. MeGuire, with paternal fond-
ness, pointed to the child, and then turned to Priest and
sai'' : " Please, sur, what is ycr raverences name ? "
L". which question Priest gave a ready answer. "Now,
belli )wurs," cried Patrick, "one good turn desarves
another, imv\ that spalpeen shall be culled Priest Mclndoe
31<'Guire." 'IMius was the union of Ireland and Scot-
land 111 JVC iic' 1y cemented by the representatives of
these two kingdoms.

A POOH INVESTMENT.

Jean .Johnson was a spinster,
And she span in the nud-niill.

And I have heard Roh Howden say
She span wi' mickle skill.

Although her wages were but sma'

Yet she did act discreet,
And with frugality she made

The tongue and buckle meet.

She had a lad, but he, alas I
Was to the kirkyard carried,

And for liis sake she vowed a vow
She never would get married.

Though many a lad cam' seeking for
Her heart and hand to gain,

She told them that in singlene.sss
She ever would renutin.

They tried her with the sweetest words
That from the tongue could tlow

But "yes"' fell never from her lips !
Her answer aye was ' no."

8KETCUES AXD ANECDOTES.

Now all these lads tried other grounds
Losh ! how they were elated

When they with perseverance all
Like turtle doves were mated.

Jean lived out-ower in a cot-house

Alang wi' her auld niither,
And baith the twa did aye their best

To 'gree weel wi' ilk ither.

But Jean, alas, fell unco sick,
And couldna move her feet,

But by my faith she didua' want
For neither meal or meat .

Her fellow workers, ane and a'.

A helping hand they lent it. '
They bought poor Jean a stitch machine.

And quick to her they sent it.

When it cam" hame the auld wife cried,

I think we should refuse it,
For oh, my poor, poor helpless bairn

Has got nae strength to use it."

Wi' this Rob Howden raised his voice,
And then he spoke fu' crouse,

" Tuts, baud your tongue, I'm sure it will
Come handy 'bout the house."

This tale is told with words o' truth.

And truth needs no defense,
With the design to show some folk

Have very little sense.

It makes me just as mad's a haw

Whene'er I think about it;
I'm unco sure had I been there

Some lugs I wad ha'e clouted.

If they had bought Jean something more

In keeping wi' her need,
I'd sung their praises far and wide

And wished them a' " God speed."

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SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

MUD AND DUST.

In the year aughteen-hundcr and aughty-nine, and!
on the twintyeth day o' September, I met ma auld friend
John Wardlaw on the streets o' London, Ontario, in a
most deplorable condition. Now, John was born in '
Edencraw, a toon on the borders o' Scotland, and one o*
his ancestors went to the battle field o' Dunbar to fight
against Oliver Cromwell, when an auld wife handed his
name doon to posterity by exclaiming :

' ' They're a' there, tliey're a' there —
There's John Wardlaw on his mare."

I took John by the hand, and quo' I, "John, where
on a' the earth ha'e ye been ? " " Been," quo' John, " I
ha'e been doon to Toronto at the exhibition, and I gat
my claes a' covered wi' glaur and my mouth filled fu' o'
stour, and when I gat there I gacd into a tavern to get
a glass o' whiskey, and quo' I to tlie barman, wha
happened to be a Scotchman, * Is that whiskey guid ? '
' I dinna' ken,' quo' he, * but they're a' drinkin' awa' at
it.' Then I gat into a pitched battle regarding annexa-
tion, and the animal rippit ma coat straught up the
back, and I lost ma umberella, but I faund it again.
Now, I ha'e come to the conclusion that bairns below
sax years auld and men and women aboon fifty, should
never venture mair than half-a-mile awa frae their
hames. ' I dinna ken what ma guidwife will say when
she sets her e'en on me, but ae thing I ken, it is a mercy
I faund ma umberella to keep the storm off." We
parted, and as we parted I was readj'^ to exclaim, in imi-
tation of Sir Walter Scott :

" O, woman, when our coats are torn,
We wish that we had ne'er been born."

- SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

141

THE WOODEN LEG.

In Melroso liv'd a minister.

A man o' portly frame,
"VVha pray'd and preached in Melrose Kirk,

John Tamsou was his name.

Upon a Sunday afternoon,
Laird Douglas thus did say —
"Come, Mr. Tam.son, come wi' me,
And tak' pat-luck this day."

"Aweel." quo' he, "Fll gladly gang,
'Twill gi'e me muckle pleasure,
But 'fore we start, sir, you must know.
We'll ha'e to walk at leasure. "

Now, to give point to this remark,
He said, "Laird, laird, I beg."

He said nae mair, but shook his head
And pointed to his leg.

The reason he did thus and thus,

Let it be understood.
He had twa legs, but ane o' them,

Wae's me, was made o' wood.

If I should cudgel u^) my brains

Frae mornin' sun till night,
I couldna' tell if his wood leg

Was either left or right.

Now, Mr. Tamson and the Laird

Gaed saunterin' aff fu' crouse,
And inside o' an hour they gain'd

The Douglas mansion house.

The lady there, wi' kindly smiles,

The minister accosted ;
And soon they a' paid their respects

Unto the boiled and roasted.

The Laird belanged to the auld school—

A kindly crackin' body.
And when the dishes were remov'd

He cried, " Bring ben the toddy."

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142

SKETCHEB AND ANECDOTES.

Now, bdith thelwa could tuk' their dram,

Or ait)lins could tak' twa,
But ne'er were kent, like drunken brutes,

Aside tbeir chair to fa'.

John Tamson spiik' 'bout Robert Peel,

Bout sliding scules and corn ;
Wi' this the Laird cried, "I've a mear
Nae better ere was born.

" My certy ! she's the grandest mear
That ever wagged a tail ;
Her match I'm sure ye'd fail to lind
In France or Tevoitdale.

" Afore the darksome night sets in,
Sir, sir, I'll no think shame,
To yoke up Peg, and by my faith,
I'll quickly drive ye harae.

" 'Twill gi'e me unco great delight
To let you see her paces,
As I intend to enter her
Next week at Kelso races."

Now, in the gig the Douglas Laird

And minister are sittin',
And in the trams Peg snooves alang

As canny as a kitten.

At length the Laird cried oot to Peg,
'Come, Peg, my lass, get up."

He touches her aboon the tail
And then he cracks his whup.

She gave a jump, she gave a spring,

Then dashes oflf forthwith,
She gets her lugs upon her neck,

And bits atween her teeth.

Fast, fast flew she, fast and mair fast,

As if she'd never tire,
While frae her heels, and frae the wheels,

Flew sparks o' living fire.

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

143

At length slic ga'o a fearful stencl,
NVIiirr, wliiir, tlic gig play'il pitcli.

Mercy ! the Laird and minister
Flew Iicadiang in Die ditcli.

1-()m1» ! wives and men I liave lieard .siy.

For twa dead men mistooji tliem.
At length tlicy opened up their eyes,

And wildly glowered aboot them.

The Laird eried, "Mr. Tanison, sir,
Have ye seen aught o' Peg ?"
" Xa, Laird," (pio' he, " but hue ye seen
Auglit o' my wooden leg ?"

FLEVKN COM.MANDMENTS.

Galloway, .situated on the slioresof tlie Solway Firtli,
i.s one of the most .seeluded and romantic districts in
Scotland. In the days of the persecution the Cov-
enanters there found refu<re in the glen and the cave, to
commune with one another, to worship unmolested the
C4od of heaven, and to mourn over a broken covenant.

There's nae Covenant noo, lassie !

There's nue Covenant noo !
The .Solemn League and C9venant

Are a' broken through I

In the time of the Commonwealth, and reign of
Charles II., the Rev. Samuel Rutherford was professor
of moral philosophy in the University of Edinburgh-
But, becoming tired of the cavils and contentions that
then existed in the Scottish capital, he made up his
mind to retire from his professorship and become minister
of Anwoth, Galloway, not far distant from the scene so
beautifully described in Lowe's matchless lyric, " Mary's
Dream " :

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SKKT<^IIKS AVI) ANKCDOTES.

I i

"Tlic moon had climbed the higliost hill,
Wiiicli rises o'or tlu; sourco o' Dee,
And from the <;ist(.'rn summit shed
IltT silver light on tower and tree."

TluMV, far away from thr Haimting town, M
liutliorford found that repose which ho desired, and touw
a Ljreat interest in administerinj^ to the spiritual wants
c»f his rural tloek. While not thus enu^aged he exei--
cised his mind in the eomposition of a learned work
a.L^ainst Armenianism, entithd, *' Exereitationes de
Gratia," and another jtopular work entitled " Ruther-
fcM'd's Letters," which to this day is f(Mind in the win"
dow-soles of the peasantry of Scotland, side by side with
"Baxter's Saint's Rest," "Boston's Four-fold State,"
and other books of a religious nature.

In those days, in consetjuence of the wretched state
the roads, and no })ost offices ever thought of, men Oi
I'.'tters had few or no opportunities of communicating
with one another. From these causes it became a ctis-
t )m among the learned to make long pilgrimages for the
purx)Ose of exchanging views on the questions of the
day and seeing one anotlier face to face. As an instance
of this we have it on record that " Rare Ben Jonson "
forsook his London haunts and traveled to Scotland for
the purpose of meeting the poet Drummond of Haw-
thornden. When they met, Drummond, it is said,
received him with great kindness and exclaimed :

" Welcome, welcome royal Ben,"
Ti> which Jonson immediately replied,

" Thank ve, thank ye, Ilawtliorndeu."

On a beautiful morning in spring a sturdy beggar
Avas wending his way through the wild solitudes of Gal-
loway. On reaching the abode of the Rev. Samuel

8K ETCH KS AND A N KCDdTKS.

145

frrar

Riitlierfonl, ho in<|uir('<l of Mrs. llutlii'i-ronl if the min-
i>tt'rwas at home. To which t|iH'>«lion she ma<l«' aiifiwer
that her hiishaiul would not he home till latt' that cvon-
Iiil;. Slu', h(j\vt'V('r, fh'sircil liim to step into tho kitchen.
Mrs. Rutlicrfonl may be <k'sciil)iMl as a Lrarnilous nianaL,'-
ing woman — a kind of jirototype of tlie stroni;-niin<ltd
women of the present day. Although she looked upon
the beggar with some degree of mistruHt, not-
withstanding she set before him some scraps of victuals
and ordered him " to fall to and eat ami be thankful for
the mercies." The beggar laid aside his l)onnet and
commenced to eat with a keen relish, as his long walk
among the mountains had no doubt sharpened his
ap])etite. When his plate was empty he held it out to
IMrs. Rutherford, and on replenishing it slie muttered to
herself, " I muckle doot that wandering vagabond will
eat us out o' house and ha', l>ut jioor creature,
he has mavbe seen better d.ivs and lias a soul to be
saved like the rest o' us." After the stranger had tinishe<l
his repast Mrs. Rutherford put a few questions to
him regarding where he had come from ant] where he
was going, but received no satisfactory answer; there-
fore she betook herself to her household duties and
laughed in her sleeve as slie thought of the old
proverb that tlie beggar was as wise as Wudsie's calf
" that dinna ken milk, frae water." The beggar, now
being left alone sat down in a corner an<l fell fast asleep.
He slept on and on, till tlie shades of evening began to
fall. Mrs. Rutherford now became somewhat alarmed
at the non-arrival of her husl)and, an<l being all alone
in the house slie began to entertain the notion that the
beggar's absence would be good company. As he sat in
the corner she ever and anon eyed him with suspicion,

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146

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

but her foar was relieved by tlie arrival of some neigli-
borinjj: (children, who liad come for the purpose of
answering their weekly questions and to receive relig-
ious instructions from theii- ])astor. " Bairns," said she,
" the minister is no at hame, but T will tak' it on mysel'
to be your teacher this nicht.', On saving this she went
up to the beggar and roared out to him, " Wauken up
this precious moment and be questioned on poiiits of
faith alang wi' tbe children." With this the beggar
opened his eyes and looked around him like one dum-
fouTulered, then he arose and did as desired.

The minister's wife, still thinking that she had some
poor, half-witted wanderer, thought it best to handle
him gingerly, an<l jtut some (juestions to hira as the
meanest capaciiy might satisfactorily answer. She there-
fore inquired of him " How many conmiandments are
there '?" To which he immediately answered " Eleven."
" Poor man," said she, " Ye are deplorably ignorant, it
is heart-rending to think that such ignorance can be
found in this Christian country; an<l the best thing you
can do is to gang to your bed in the garret and ye will
see Mr. Rutherford in the morn in'." Mrs. Rutherford
then conducted him to his quarters, which, it appears,
was immediately over the room where Mr. Rutherford
slept. The beggar iuAvardly rejoiced at this, as he
strongly desired to hear the learned divine offer up his
evening prayer to the God of all !

Mr. Rutherford at length reached his home, and
from some cause or another, Mrs. Rutherford thought it
fit not to inform him that a stranger was in the house.
The minister after partaking of some slight re])ast, be-
ing tired and jaded out, retired early to rest. The beg-
gar patiently listened till the dead hour of midnight to

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES. I47

hear the sound of the minister's voice, but listened in
vain. He then began to pray, and tlie astonisliment of
Mr. Rutherford may be imagined as he lay entranced,
and heard one of the most earnest and devout i)rayers'
that ever fell from the lips of a human being! While
this prayer was progressing Mrs. Rutherford l^lurabered
^ and slept, but on its conclusion he exclaimed with bated
^breath: "This is either an angel from Heaven, Satan
turned saint— or— Archbishop Usher ! "

The night passed away and the sun ushered in the
Sabbath morning thus poetically described:

The morning sun glints up ayont the hill;

The misty clouds of morn have fled away.

Calm is the pool, the sky serene and still,

The lark, exultant, chants his early lay.

The joyful birds sing biythe upon (he sprey,

The wings of peace are spread o'er hill and lea,

This is the sacred, holy Sabbalh day.

From toil, this morn, the husbandnian is free,

From blissful rest he wakes, to bow to God the knee.

At the dawn of day the beggar rose from his humble
bed and shortly afterward quietly stole out of the house.
He had only gone a short distance and appeared wrapt
in deep meditation when a haiul was laid on his shoulder.
On turning round he said: "Sir, although we have
never met, I know that you are Mr. Rutherford." To
which the latter made ^.ws^svv, "I know that vou can be
none else but Archbishoj. I'sher." Thus ,lid the two
greatest and most eloquent divines of that century meet
in the wilds of Galloway ! The Arehbishop explained
to Mr. Rutherford that he had certain reasons of his
own in coming to meet him in disguise, and begged
that his secret might be kept. " But how can that be
done," replied Mr. Rutherford, "as nou must prea.di for

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148

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

me this day ? " " What would j'our people think,"
exclaimed the Archbishop, " when they saw a beggar
mount the steps of the pulpit? " " That can be easily
arranged," was the answer. " Mrs. Rutherford I have
no doubt is still asleep, and I will forthwith go back to
tlie house and bring vou a suit of rav clothes, which in
the quietude of the glen you can easily exchange."
Til is arrangement was accordingly entered into, and
M'hen the time came the Archbishoj) occupied the \)u\-
pit, and Mr. Rutherford and his wife sat together in the
})ew. At the conclusion of the prayer the Archbishop
gave out the text, " A new commandment I give unto
you, that ye love one another," and Mrs. Rutherford
looked with astonishment at the man, and she thought,
^' This is an answer to the question I put to the poor
beggar last night." The preacher illustrated his text by
referring to Joseph and his brethren and the injunction
given, " See that ve fall not out bv the way," and wound
up with the divine peroration. " All men shall know
that 3''e are my disciples if ye love one another."

At the conclusion of the discourse Mrs. Rutherford,
who was troubled with the curiosity of her sex, could
■contain herself no longer, but whispered into the ear of
her husband, " That surely canna be the idiot that
slept in the garrit last night ! "

WHAT HE BAGGED.

We had two fine conical hills in our parish, and one
Irishman of independent means. One day l^e took his
shooting bag and gun and went up to the top of one of
these hills. AVhen he came down his wife inquired if
he had bagged anything? "Be jabers," said he, "AUie,
I have bagged a sevare cowld."

SKETCHES AXD ANECDOTES.

149

THE WASHING-DAY.

One morn my wife saluted me,

And thus and thus did say:
"You'd better take your dinner out,

As this is washing day. "

A tear-drop trinkled down my cheek,

And I cried, " Woe betide !
I fear I'll have no appetite

Unless you're by my side."

I caught her in my loving arms.
And when our four lips parted,

With trembling hand I took my stick,
And down Bagg street I started.

When time had struck twelve doleful sound

Upon the city bell,
I sallied out, and soon I found

A very fine hotel.

1 looked around and tliere and then

J found an empty chair,
And then a maid, with dove-like eyes,

Gave me her bill of fare.

I meditated on the list,

My mind was in a doubt.
At last I said, " 1 think, my dear,

That I will take some trout."

When I had tinislied trout and tea,

The maiden brought some pie;
She )«aid: "Sir, down upon the floor

Has fallen your necklie. "

She picked it up, then to my band

She pinned it with a pin;
My very heart leaped to my mouth

Wlien I held up my chin.

She smiled so sweet, that quick as thought

She went from me away;
Alas! She stole, she stole my heart

Upon the washing-day.

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150

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

LOVESICK.

George Miller was an unmarried exciseman, and who
resided in Dalkeith, Scotland. He fell over head and
ears in love wi' a lass wha resided in a distant county.
Her image was forever before him, and he got into such
a disordered state of mind that he even forgot to sup his
porridge. He longed and he yearned to see her, and
clasp her in his fond embrace, but how to obtain leave
of absence was beyond his comprehension. At last he
fell upon a plan. He got a pipe and an ounce of tobacco,
and he blawed and he blawed till he made his loving
heart shiver and shake. He then went to the doctor,
M'ho granted him leave of absence on account of heart
disease and mental derangement.

FALSE HISTORIANS.

Innumerable blunders have crept into "Histories"
and the " Lives of Men." In probing these blunders
to the bottom I have been frequently tempted to
exclaim with David of old, "that all men are liars."
In proof, it is set down in black and white that John
Hogg, the schoolmaster of Lasswade, was never mar-
ried. I can prove, without the shadow of a doubt, that
he was married, and that his wife's maiden name was
Peg Maitland, and that she was a spinster, and more
than that, that she was born and brought up in the
parish of Traquair. If tradition is to be believed, John
Hogg and Peggy were very unequally yoked. One day
he said to her, " Peg, when I eloped with you I was
more than sure that ye would prove an auxiliary or
helping verb; instead of that ye have proved to be an
adversative conjunction." " What's that ye say ? " cried
Peg. " It was an ill wind that blew ye in my direction,

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

151

but, my certy, the lad I ought to have had was banished
to Botany Bay. My certy, I wadna hae gi'en his little
tinger for your whole body and bones, and your boots

and breeches thrown into the bargain."

A FREAK OF NATURE.

In Yetliolni town lived Dr. Raird,
Who prcfuliLd lor many a day,

And 'niong the gypsies did his Ix-st
To point and lead the way.

'Though they were an ungodly raee.

Yet he would ne'er desert them,
But to his latter end he strove

To teacli and to convert them.

At times he thought he liad them ri^^ht.
And then he would assert it—

That all that he could say or do
They would not stay converted.

They'd donkeys, and at early morn
Their brayiugs were so great

As made the very hills and dales.
And glens reverberate.

Now, 'bout these roars on weekly <iays

He made no observation,
But on the Sabbath day he deemed

Them fearful desecration.

He gatliered all the gypsies round,

And with a solemn face.
He said that these unearthly sounds

Were naught but a disgrace.

He charged them that on Saturdays,

As soon as day was gone,
To every donkey's tail forthwith

They must su.spend a stoue.

This plan was tried with grand results,

And it does me astound
That donkeys cannot roar whene'er

Their tails point to the ground !

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152

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

ROUSE HIM UP ! ROUSE HIM UP

The village of Denholra is situated in the bonnit*
border land, and which, by the way, is the birthplace of
the late Dr. John Leyden, the great linguist and friend
of Sir Walter Scott. One Sunday there was a ripple in
the bosoms of the inhabitants of the village. The Rev.
John Johninan, a strange minister, was to preach, and
his great fame had surged before hira. The congrega-
tion met. The day was very hot and oppressive, as
heavy and sulphurous puffs of warm winds came down
from the Lammermoor hills. Mr. Johnman proceeded
with his sermon, but it was not long till the people
began to nap, dose and nod, and knock one another's
elbows into one another's ribs. Mr. Johinnan observed
this, and he looked at an old man who sat beside an old,
blinking wife, and he cried down to her, " Rouse him
up ! Rouse him up ! " On hearing this the old female
sinner roared out at the top of her voice, which roused
the whole congregation : " I canna do that, sir, for he
has been stone blind for the last forty years."

JOHN AND WILL.

Both John and Will were born and bred,

And schooled on Scotland's strand;
Tlieu they took ship and sailed away
Unto Columbia's land.

Now .John went east and Will came west

And settled in our street,
And he was just as kind a man

As one* would like to meet.

I kenned him weel and in our cracks

He often spoke 'bout .John,
And often wondered where he was

And how he got along.

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SKETCHES AXn ANECDOTES

158

Year after yan had conu' and liane

And 'fore tlie twa did know it,
Witliout a warnini:- word tlicsc friends

Forgatiiered in Detroit.

Will opened wide his mouth and cried

•'John, Jiow is it a' wi" ye,
Where lia'e ye I/een ? _i,niid iruidc; us ,i

Man: I am glad to see ye."

Tliere is an error tliat prevails

Broadcast o'er many lands—
That a drop drini< lulls cauldriff care,

And tiiiiitens friendship's bands.

(^uo' John " O, Will, we've met once men':

And by John Barleycorn,
And auld lang- syne, come, come awa,

And faith we'll ha'e a horn."

They sat and sat ard better sat

Until the stars shone bright:
Then Will cried out, " C(jme, John, mv fricMid,

And stay with me tliis night.

O. John, O, John, I'm glad we've met

To crack 'bout days bygajie,
The sight o' you cheers up my lieart,

And makes me young again,"

And then they went along the street.

And wow, l)ut they wore fain.
Until they missed their feet and plung'd

Head-foremost in a drain.

Quo' Will, " This is Tib Dugdale's drain,

I doubt my ribs are broken ;
Next morn I'll lay a plea 'gainst her

For keeping her drain open."

Quo' John " for pleas I dinna care.

But Will, with joy I'd shout
If Tib would come around wi' speed

This lu'ght and Ijail me out "
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SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

HALF-HA.NGED MA.GGY DICKSON.

" I will tell of ane wondrous tale
As ever was told by man,
Or ever was sung by minstrel meet,
Since this base world began,"

— Jamm Hogg.

FiKherrow is situated pn the banks of the Firth of
Fortli, some few miles distant from the city of Edin-
burLfh. It is a wretched, dilapidated village, and is prin-
cipally inhabited by fishermen and their families. They
are a peculiar people, antiquated in their habits a?jd
superstitious in their notions ; so much so that they
would consider it a crime to act contrary to the customs
that have been handed down to them from time
immemorial. Tliey marry and inter-marry, and, as a
general rule, they are rude in speech and uncultivated
in manners. They are, however, an industrious class —
the fishwives in particular, who are in the daily habit of
carrying large baskets of fish upon their backs to Edin-
burgh, and there singing out in clear, ringing tones,
*' Wha'll buy my caller baddies ? " Lady Nairne, Scot-
land's sweetest poetess, well describes this custom in one
of her lyrics —

Wha'll buy my caller herrin'?
They're bonnif! fish and halesome farin';
Wha'll buy my caller herrin',
New drawn frae the Forth ?

Tibbie Dickson was a fishwife, and, for aught I
know to the contrary, she was bred and born in F'sher-
row. She lived in the early part of the last century,
and was a remarkable woman in more ways than one.
She was fretjuently in the gross habit of turning up her
little finger — that is, tossing off a horn — and when she
got a number of these she was in the custom of yelling

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

155

ht I

iiry,

one.

h her

she

and bawling loud enough to waken the very dead in
their graves. On these occasions the young people
would gather round her in crowds to receive a rich fund
of amusement free of expense. She was dauntless in
spirit, and feared neither the face of man or woman,
with the exception of the minister. One day Tibbie
was holding forth on the street to a mixed crowd, in an
intoxicated state, when she happened to turn up her eye
like a hen drinking water, and, lo I she saw the minister
drawing near. She became instantly as pale as death,
and ran as fast as her tottering feet would carry her
to her own house, locked the door and sju-ang into l)ed
to await results. Shortly aftei'ward the minister ra})ped
at her door, and Tibbie bawle*! out, " I'm no in ; I'm
awa oot wi' the baddies I " Now, the minister, who
was somewhat of a humorist, cried through the key-
hole, " Ah, Tibbie ! Tibbie I ye are trying to cheat me,
but ye'll no cheat Beelzebub." " And wha is he, I wad
like to ken ?" roared Tibbie. " I never had any banter-
ings or bargains wi' him, I trow. Sae gang awa wi' yere
clashmaclavers and tell him that I wiiina be back till
Sunday." Here Tibbie gave a series of groans and she
continued : " I wish I had some ane to rin and tell the
folks that I'm lying here at the doors o' death I Mai^oy
Maggy, my bonnie bairn, rin awa and order ma coflln,
the whiskey, and the burial bread, for I'll be dead this
nicht or early in the mornin' ! "

Now, Tibbie Dickson, at the }>eriod this narrative
begins, had a daughter whose name was Maggy, and she
was remarkable for her beauty, when it is taken into
account the kind of stock she sprang from. She was on
the verge of womanhood, and was one of the most
notorious randies that ever ran there out. There was a

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.SKPnXHES AND ANECDOTES.

young man in the neigliljorhood, the son of a small
farmer, who took a great fancy to ]Maggy and tried to
civilize lier. lie even went so far as to oflFer her his
hand in marriage, but she opened out upon him a per-
fect torrent of abuse. "Awa out o' ma sight," she
cried, " ve white-livered Huke I ve wretciied son o' a
planter o' cabbage and a digger o' potatoes, ^larry
you I that wad be a marriage wi' a vengeance ! D'ye
think that I wad marry a miserable driver o' stots and
stirks and broken doon horses ! Xa, iia, nane o' sic
land-loupers will ever wile me awa frac ma mitlier ; the
man that gets me maun be a tisiierman, bold and freo,
that is able to sing the dredging sang and (;ast his net
in Laro-o Bav. 8ae gang vere ways oot <j' ma sis>'ht, ma
bonnie man, and seek a wife amang ycre father's bond-
aiyers, or for onv thing that I care, \<' may oantr and
feed wi' tlie geese upon the links o" Musselburgh ! "
After this, my informant states that this son of a farmer
pestered Maggy no more, but went to seek a wife
amongst the less barbarous of her sex. Notwithstand-
ing all this, Maggy would have accepted the young
farmer had she not been previously engaged to the son
of a butcher, who was generally known by the name
of Flesher Rab. This pair were married in due course,
and Rab took up his quarters in the house of his mother-
in-law, and they lived for some time together in great
disorder. Rab was a most extraordinary glutton, and it
took Maggy the best part of her time to cook fish and
tlesh to appease his appetite. At length, one day, when
her mother was absent she lost all patience, and she
said, " Rab ! I ha'e a guid mind to crack this frying-pan
over yere skull. Little did I ken when I married you
that ve could eat the verv gable o' a kirk ! I am fair
sick. tired wi' boiling and frying and washing plates and

SKETCHliS AVD ANECKOTKS.

15 7

p.aiiH, and running to MiisselbiirLrli for niair meal. Losh
guide us a', if it gae ye ony satisfaction it \va<l bo nao-
thing, but guid keej) me, ye are nae sooner done wi' ae
feed o' fish, flesh or fowl than ye are ripe and leady to
begin to anotlier cart-load." While these remarks were
issuing from Maggy's lij>s Flesher Rab was sitting at the
table with a saddh' of mutton before him. He looked
up at his wife with utter astonishment, and then he
said, "Maggy, when I married you little did I think
that it wad come to tliis ; tiie man that is buckled to
you wad be far better dead than alive, for to tell ye the
universal truth ve are tit enough to break the heart o'
an undertaker. How do you expect me to live if I
dinna get ma meat ? " " Live," cried Maggy, '' if ye
live muckle langer there will soon be a famine in the
land, and that will be baith seen and heard tell o'. For
my part I dinna care a snap o' ma tinger though the
breath o' life was oot o' you this very moment. Sae ye
can gang and whistle on yere thumb, for I am done wi*
ve forever ! "

Flesher Rab understood that a nod from her was as
good as a wink to a blind horse. He also knew the
frailties of his mother-indaw ; that she was sure also
to pour the vials of her indignation upon his head, and
rather than endure the lashings of her tongue he would
a thousand fold prefer to stand between two blast fur-
naces. So without anotlier word he took the saddle of
mutton and tied it up in a handkerchief and left for
parts unknown.

For two years after this Maggy plunged recklessly
into every kind of vice, and broke the moral law even to
the nineteenth degree. One morning Flesher Rab was
astonished when he received the following letter, dated

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SKETf'HES AND ANECDOTES.

" Mlsselijuroh, , 1728.

PoHt haste to

FU'shor Hab,
fare of Mr. John liull,
Cattle Feeder,

New C'uHtle-Upon Tyne,
Kiigland,

Near Scotland.
Sir — I lift up the pen to h't ye ken that we are a*
weel and that your wife Magtjy Dickson is to be
hanL-ed for bairn rrnirder in the Grass Market, Edin-
burjLfh, on Maunenday next and if ye can spare the time
ye had belter come down and see her lianged. I add
nae nwiir but remains,

Y^ours till deth,

TIIOS. CLINKSGALES."

This letter had the desired effect, for the day before
Maggy Dickson was to answer for her crime, Flesher
Rab made his appearance in Musselburgh and soon
found his friend Clinkscales, who kept a house for the
" entertainment of man and beast." Next day the two
proceeded to Edinburgh in a cart, and they aaw, as they
thought, Maggy Dickson's earthly career brw.pfht to a
final termination upon the gallows. Flesher Rnb and
his companion then waited upon the authorities and
received the dead body. They placed it in a chest, and
then in a cart, and then drove it with the utmost fury
out of the city. When about half w.ay on their road to
Musselburgh they halted at a way-side public house,
leaving the horse, cart and chest with its contents st
ing at the door. They remained eating and 'i' nl i
of the devil's punch boM'l till their heads got . .aicu
darkness began to set in. When thev canu out their
astonishment may be imagined when they saw M; rgy
sitting bolt upright in the chest ! Flesher Rab's hair
stood up, his nether jaw fell down, his nostrils dis-
tended, his throat became as dry as a linie-kiln, his eyes

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

159

rolled in their sockets and glimmered like two stars of
the first magnitude, his knees smote against each other,
while a cold })ers|)iration oozed out from every pore of
his body ! At len;;th he mustered courage and cried
out, "Preserve us a' I Maggy, lie doon ! Do ye no
ken that ye are hanged?" Clinkscales, however, had
more gumjition ; he seized the reins and drove her to
the nearest doctor, who placed her in bed, and by dint
of certain inward drugs aiul outward poultices, in a few
hours she became as lively as a blackbird on a A[av
morning. On the next Sabbath she appeared at church,
followed by a great concourse of people, and she heaid
the minister deliver a most excellent discourse appli-
cable to her case.

For some years after she kept an ale-house, where
many resorted to see her and birl their bawbees. When
(juestioned regarding her experience on the gallows, she
would toss her head and say, "Tuts, hangin' is no sae
bad as what it is ca'd — it's muckle cry and little woo',
as the tailor said when he sheared the soo. I didna' feel
unco weel when I drappit wi' the rope round ma thrap-
ple, and whan swingin' backward and forward like the
pendulum o* an aught-day clock, but when I got used to
the business I just felt as if I was fleein' through the
air on the tap o' a pair o' bagpipes to the tune o' "Guid
nicbt and joy be wi' ye a'.'"

There is an old Scottish proverb which s.iys, " An ill
life, an ill end," and Maggy Dickson's life well illus-
trates the truth of it — for I have no less an authority
than Robert Chambers, who states that " in spite of the
awful lesson she had, Maggy was not reformed, but,
according to the popular tradition, lived and died ayniu
an impenitent pro'Higate I "

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SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

■0

THE VVIFK OF LAMMEUMOOR.

Ilnscribed ti> K. S. Greoe, Esq., Detroit.]

In Laniniermcior in bv-gane days,
There liv'd a herd ca'd Tanimie Craze;
A better name niiulit be inserted,
IJut liistorv must not be perverted.
His fatlier \vas a iierd afitre liim.
But to tlie kirkyard fliey had bore iiini.
Folk may \\vv\) and rant, ami rav(.',
But they ean never eheat the t;;ravc —
For, while reek rises frae the lum,
Folk will gang, and folk will come,
But nature's work is never dune.
Pair Tammie tilled his father's .shoon.
His mither had got auid and stiff,
Ae nieht, wae's me, she took a tiff,
And as the daylight reached the hills,
And sinimer'd on the wimplin' rills.
Her spirit calmly stole away.
To hail the never ending day.

His mither, Tammie sair lamented,
He daunder'd round like ane demented;
While feckly dormant were his senses.
His sheep leaped over dykes and fences;
But Tammie had an ancient collie
That seemed to wonder at their folly;
Nature instinctive taught this dog,
To rout the .sheep from lair and bog,
Wliich plainly showed by this ability
E'en dogs have a redeeming quality.

In Tammie's heart grief hatched her hrood.
And nursed his melancholy mood;
His hopes, his pleasures, all were tied.
His tho\ights were cradled with the de;id.
The midniglit echoes heard his moan,
He lived forsaken and alone;
The heather round him fragrance shed.
The lavrocks lilted 'bune his head,
The blacki)ird's notes, so sweet and clear.
Fell coldlv on his listless ear.

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

161

The doctor tried to bring relief,

lie oiil\' added grief to grief;

The minister e'en t(joii occasion,

To case him of his tribulation;

His words tliough ortliodox and sound

Just fell like water on the ground.

Come love ! and try your healing ari,

Come I cheer up Tammie's drooping heart.

'Twas in a bonnie morn in ^Ia\' ;
The low'ring clouds had passed awa\
The golden sun's effulgent rays,
Danced tip-toe on the hills and brae-;.
This day when Tainmie was abroad,
He saw a lass on the fit-road,
And blythely as she tripped alang,
She liltit ower an auld Scotch sang.
She was a charming Scottish lassie.
Although she looked a wee thought saucy;
Yet this, at times, in women's faces,
Add e.xtra beauty to their graces.
Poor Tamniie glowr'd, and then forsooth,
His heart leai)ed to his very mooth.
He swithered, then he stood a-back,
And then he folhnved on her track;
His leaden eye became more bright,
His heart rebounded with delight.
O, how he loved the pretty maiden;
He worship'd e'en the ground she gaed on I
Though uninformed, yet I'll l)e bound,
The lassie keekit cannie njund,
I'll wager my last plack upon it,
For Tammie she had .set her bonnet !
I trow it is a golden rule
To never tell tales out of school ;
But truth compels me to relate,
She pitied Tammie's lonely state;
She saAV the banc, she laid a plot
To l)ring about the antidote I
And here I miglit as well mak' mention,
A woman's wit's past comprehension,
Kout, tout I a man's no worth a chip,
She is the rudder o' the ship.

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SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

When storms arise in peace, or war,

She is our guiding polar star;

^Vith words defiant I allege,

She is the key-stone o' the bridge I

Although, at times, we may misdoubt her,

'Twould break our hearts to be without lier;

'Tis best to bear, and to forbear,

()' ills, I trow, she has her share.

Man ! be not wayward and erratic,

But to your wife be symjjathetie;

And e'en consider 't a disgrace

To cast Eve's blunders in her face—

The application here I clink

A nod is just as good's a wink;

O, who would prize a golden crown,

And be without their Jessie Brown ?

They liad been at the school thegitlitr.
They were acquainted wi' ilk ither.
When bairns, for her he'd cull the ro\\;iP,
And pu' the primrose and the gowan;
Wi" tiny feet, wi' heart o' glee,
He'd chase her ower the lilly lea,
Love lured him now, Hope was his guile;
And soon he stood by Jessie's side;
And after blushing, scrai)ing, cooing,
The twasome brisklj'^ set a-wooing !

O. Liimmermoor ! amang th\' braes,
How happy were their courting days.
There by the bonnie winding Dye,
They'd watch the waters rippling bye;
Or in the glen "mang birkeu bowers,
They'd while away the golden hours.
The very twink'ling stars o' night
Shone clear, shone more than doul)ly brigb'.
Though tempests hovvl'd, though leaves wt-re sere
Wi' them 'twas summer all the year !
(), happy time ! I here declare,
No joys can with these joys compare —
'Tis meeting, vowing, kissing, teasing,
The very retrospection's pleasing !

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SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

163

I here pass o'er the marriage time,
As sma' importance to my rhyme.
Tlie honeymoon. I just will moot- it ;
Let other poets jingle 'bout it.
A woman's trust ! who would not prize it ?
Shame fa' the man that would despise it.
Women ! our patience oft they tax it,
And wi' their freeks and foibles rax it ;
Yet this I learned frae my ain mither—
That " J3airn8 should 'gree wi' ane anither."
This saying beats the Grecian sages ;
'Twill gatlier strength in after ages,
When devilish hate is swept -'way
And virtue crowns tJie better day !

Upon the stepping-stanes o' time,
This pair thus stepi)it to their prime ;
Their wants were few and soon appeas'd,
They strove to please and to be pleas'd.
Ae day she to the town repairs
To purchase twa three antrin wares.
A word I'll venture in her praise,
She coft a book ca'd " Sliakespeare's Plavs."
Guidwife ! your bargain ye'll be ruein'; '
Ye little ken what mischief's brewin';
The little adverbs '• no " or "yes "
How they can make or mar our bliss,
No matter in what light we view tliem.

How often bitterly we rue them.

Mischief will rise, guid guide us a'.

Just out a sma' hole in the wa'.

On grit, on woe, on hale, or lame,

Grim trouble pounces on her game.

Jingle, jingle, grab and pingle.

Trouble seldom ventures single;

Shoulders narrow, shoulders l)rnad.

Bend your back to suit the load !

She read t!ie i)ages lale and ere.
Where every passion is laid bare;
Where every one may trace and lind,
The workings of the'human mind;
Her flag of knowledge was utifurl'd
She opened up another world !

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

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Tl»e Dominie, I know him well,
From him I learned tliese words to spell,
And when he used Ids rod o' birclK.'n
Ujjon some dull (jr wayward urehin,
Although the l>oy was tempest toss'il,
Ah me ! the master sulTered most;
Yet at each tear and at each hollow,
He hoped that <,food residts would follow;
His aim was error down to trample,
Both by his precept and example.
O" lang-syne tales he had the function
To lay them off wi' muckle unction.
Yes ! at the crack he had a gift,
Could wile the lavrock frae the lift ;
And though his wit was sharp and keen
He never spoke a word obscene.
He guided youth, he counselled age,
He snulfed and read the classic page.

He'd wander over dale and liill,
And scenes he'd sketch wi' mickle skill.
One day he entered Tammie's cot.
From Tammie words came burning hot;
"Thomas" he said. " I at you speir
H' man or wife is master here ? "
'J'hen Tanunie cried " without a doubt
That's wliat I'm trying to find out.
Master. I'm unco proud that ye
Should come and visit sic as me.
]My faith we've had an unco racket-
To tell the truth I'm maisf distracket.
Come, sir, sit doon and toast your taes.
And hear my catalogue o' waes."
The gu id wife was a wee thought vex'd,
And 'fore the master stood preplex'd;
But this ; h ' tried hard to dissemble,
Although iier nether lip did tremble.
The silent tear unbidden came;
She trowed it a black-burning .shame —
That thus her faults should be disclos'cl,
And 'fore the master stand expos'<l;
And as he kindly scan'd her face,
Tammie thus opened up his case: —

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

165

"Master, my liciirt-stn'inrs rug mo suir,

I'm on the hrink o' black (Irspair !

I've got an unco wayward wife;

She's just the torment o' my life,

A nee in a day she'd stand inspection—

The i.ink and [iattern o' perfection,

Xae belter wife, I maun eonfess

In Liinmiermoor e'er trod the grass.

Ye ('"(Ml may look and look again.

And wonder iiow I d.are complain !

She w inna wash the veiy dishes,

She's heedless o" my wants and wishes;

This imirn iny parritch in my cog,

Wi' soot and saut wad staw a dog.

She's just a kind o' world's wonder,

She'll burn the braxy to a cinder.

Her tatie-broo, her kail, her brose,

W ad make a soo turn u]) its nose;

The meals she mak's. to say tlie least.

Are neither lit for man or beast ;

My breeks they're torn in mony places,

I e'en should preen them to my braces;

For lack o" preens I've twa big nails,

At present under my coat tails;

And, sir, my stockings should you view tliem,

Ye'd trow a mondiwint's run through them;

When to the hills forlorn I creep.

My presence scares the very sheep !

At times I'll sit doon 'mang the grass,

And strive to blot out my distress.

Or to the Dowie-den repair

To claw the croon o' my desitair."

The master said " O, slop a blink;

And do not sjieak before you think."

Quo' Tarn, " nae wonder that I'm sour,

Ye little ken wliat J endure.

When 1 attempt to cliange her course.

It ordy mak's lu'r ten times worse,

Though honied peace is my desire,

My words add powder to the tire.

When words o' sense to her I screed off

She looks as if she'd bite my heail ftff.

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SKETCHES AXD ANECDOTES,

I'''

A wife ! she is a wife indeed,

She's lick'd tlie butter all lier bread.

No more I'll look with pleasing looks,

Her name is blotted from my books,

No more I'll bottle up my ire,

I'll set the very hills on fire !

Oh, had I wings instead of hanrls,

I'd Hy away to foreign lands,

And fend wi' birds tliat live; on suction,

And leave her to her ain destruction.

My certy I I will let her see,

She'll no ride rougb-sliod over nie.

She'll sit, and read, and laugli, and girn,

She winna ca' the very kirn;

Wi' tongue o' truth I liore maintain

My bed's as hard's a granite stano;

The very straw 1 do deiiiare.

Has no been stirred this month or mair;

Oh, sir, I hae tlie wale o' beds !

The very sheets are a' in shreds;

Blankets ! 'twould tak' an age to cloot them,

Sae ril e'en baud my tongue aboot them,

Mast(!r, to me the cause is plain;

The plays o' Shakcspeares turned her brain !

Last night she woke and loud did bawl,

' Hang out the banner on the wall I

Falstaff has gone unto the wars !

Clip Romeo up in little stars ! '

And when she cried ' Macl)eth I to bed,'

I liung the bowster at her head.

I didna cltle ony harm,

But faitli the l)owster broke the charm.

And now I hae a strong desire.

To burn the play-book in the lire.

She's up to snulf I sir, do you know,

1 canna find it high or low I "

The master said. " Thomas, think .shame
Upon your wife to shower this blame.
She silent sits, and this should teach
Her silence far outweighs your speech;
Unto your wants she's failed to pander,
Thomas, you do not understand her;

SKETCHES AND A.VECDOTES.

She's groping from th.- darksome night
Up to the hills of Truth and Light.
When mankind gains their proper senses,
Then farewell cant and vile pretences;
Wlien superstitions rank disorders,
Are banished from Earth's utmost borders.
Or, down to dungeon depths l)e east,
To live in records of the past;
When learning sways her sov'reign rod,
He will be worshiped as a god.
The king of bards ! his wond'rous lore,
Will live till time shall be no more.
Bout Shakespeare there's a fascination."
Quo' Tammie. " Sir, I tak' occasion,
To ca' it an infatuation."

Quo' the guidwiCe. " I'll mask the tea,"
The master said, " so let it be."
Syne o'er a hamely social cup,
They settled a" the matter up.
This was the substance o' the paction
Which gave a' parties satisfaction—
The wife wad cook, and wash the dishes,
And ne'er neglect Tam's wants and wish.'x;
And just to brighten up her days.
At times she'd keek at Shakespeare's jilays;
And Tarn came under obligation,
On all and every occasion,
To stop his everlasting clatter,
And ne'er again throw bowsters at her.
These terms were written down, I've learn'd
And duly signed by all concern'd,
The document the master sent it
To me, mysel', to get it printit;
So that the world may now be sure,
That peace prevails in Lammormoor.
And now without a reservation,
I here annex the application— '
Keep silence, wives, just hear and see
And by my troth ye'll gain your plea,"
The silent tear is greater far
Than all the implements of war,
Let fools and madmen be uproarious,
The silent tongue will be victoriou,? !

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SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

OTHERWISE ENGAGED.

On Thursday last John Milton mot Andrew Rhynior
on Grand River avenue. After kindlv and satisfactory
greetings, quoth John, "Andrew, I wad like if ye wad
come up to my house next Sunday and tak' pot luck and
bring a sharp stomach alang wi' ye, and I will say a
sh'ti-t grace." "I am much obliged to ye," (|U<»th
Auilrew, "but lean on no account accept your invita-
tion, as my wife has got a new spring bonnet, and I am
engaged on that day to 'gang lather and thither wi' her
to show \l off."

THE LINKS O' LOVE.

O. tlie tide rins out and the tide comes in,

And the buriiies rin to the sea,
As thej'^ wind their way b}' the bank and brae.

0, they sing to you and me.
How SAVoet is the bloom o' the lieather-bell,

And the o-ov.'aii on the lea,
Tiie )>!ush o' the tiow'rs in the sylvan bowers,

O, they siiiile to you and me.

Tiie sun sliines briglit in the lift aboon.

And the birds siuir sangs o' glee,
On the grassy howe and the Ijroomy knowe,

0, tlioy sing to you and me.
T^hey sing tlieir .sangs their bonny, bonny sangs,

Till daylight shuts her e'e;
Tiien doon in the dell by the crystal well

My true love comes to me.

O, eomc to me, my own tru<! love.

My lieart is link'd to thine;
The stars o' night that shine sae bright

Tell me that you are mine.
O, the tide rins out and the tide comes in.

And the burnies rin to tlie sea,
As they wind their way by the ])ank and l.rae,

O, they sing to you and me.

SKETCH KS AM, VNKCDOms. , ^g

THE GIANT OF ST. AlJliS.

St. Abb. St. Helen ;tnd St. Hev

Tbey a' built kirks to be ueamsi the se.-t-

St. Abb's upon the nabs.

St. Helen's on the lea,

St. I3ey"s U])on Dunhiir smnh.

Stantl8 nearest to the sea.

~0/d Rhyme.
The. Strea,,. of Dyo takes its nso i„ „,e .,.»ter„ part
"I Ibf Lamraeirnoor hilla, where

■' The licuthcr blooms iipw, iheknowe-

Pniuroses apriiis in liiclded Ue)k
The soirans smile on hank iinil hme

Aiiians ihc bhre ajid boriny UOIs'
Dowu o'er tlie roeks the buniies fa','

Thej toildle on the rin sae pure
Through birken bowers „n,| j-elb; brume

llial fringe Ihegla.les 1„ Lan.mermoor.

The Dye win.ls pas, th<. ancient villafre „f L„„„f„,..
.»aeus, a„,i there in it,s be.. Iie» a .ar,e rock, .„: ,
.■;.ns,.,erocl hy tl,e i„h,.Wtants of that district a» one
..c wonders of the world. It i. round in shape, „i,^
eet h,sh fro,„ the water „,ark, and n.easures in ci^uj
ference more than twenty feet. There is a mark resetu-
W.ng a giant's hand upon it, side, and the following is
the tradition regarding this stone and the hand-mark

Til T\ -"'T ^'^"''"'^-™- "f '- giants who :.

one tune hved ,n these parts, one „f whom in particular
the^ g.ant of St. Ahbs, was endowed with su'perhum:;

as the crow fl.es, rs .St. Abbs Head, a hold promontory
-hose base ,s washed by the surging waves of the
German Ocean. [Jpoa this sailor's landmark are the
battered and time-worn ruins of a monastery, that was

IVo

SKETCHES A\I> AXECDOTES.

(ilf

I, 1

t V .1

founded by St. Abb in the seventh century, and believed
to be the finst that was established in Scotland. Its
magnificence and extent may be imagined when it is
state<l that the more modern town of Coidingham has
nearlv all been built bv stone conveyed from its ruins.
This m<mastery, before the daybreak of more enlight-
ened times, was i'i(Oilv endowed bv rovaltv, and to it
V>elon<^ed the finest and most fertile lands in that neiffli-
borhood. In the olden times the Laminermoor range
of hills was studded with a chain of strongholds, castles
and forts, and this monastei-y of St. Abl)s was one of
the first links in that chain. Th" ne.vt stronghold was
situated on the brow of Cockbundaw, and known to this
day by the name of Eden's Hold. This last named
pla(^e, tradition has it, was held in the possession of a
giant of immense strength, and the place is still pointed
out where he leaped a deep chasm over the Whita<lder
water wnth a huge bullock on his back that he had
stolen or " lifted " from one of his neighbors. This place
is still known by the name of the "giant's leap."
Although this giant was undoubtedly strong, he had a
brother who was guardian or protector of St. Abbs
monestary, who was by far the strongest. So much so
that the stories related of him make those of
Jack the Giant Killer sink into ]»erfect insignificance.
Jlis eyes were as large as twcj ordinary tea-saucers,
his nose w^as shaped like a French horn, and his
mouth, when he opened his jaws, was of such dimen-
sions that he could swallow a head of cabbage with as
much facility as one, in these degenerate days, could
sw^allow a sugar-coated pill. When he walked forth the
earth resounded beneath his tread, and wb he lauffiied
or roared the noise echoed and re-echoed amongst the

SK£TCnES AND ANECDOTES.

171

liills. One day liis ])rother paid him a visit, and while
tlu'y were in conversation in one of tlie eloisters, the
Abbot hai)jK'iied to jtass that way. He looked with
Home astonisliinent at the two, and then lie d('sir(.*d his
own giant to take the other giant into the wine vault
and give him a glass of wine. The two, as desired,
adjourned to the vault, and instead of drinking one
glass they poured several gallons of the ruby wine down
their capacious throats. When the wine began to take
effect the two commenced to roar and sing so l<tud that
at everv note the Abbev shook as if visited bv a series
of earthquakes. The Abbot knowing the causi- of this,
and fearing that the rafters would fall about his ears,
descended in great haste to the vault and desired his
giant to send his brother home with all dispatch. The
two then left and proceeded over the drawbridge and
witli great speed they walked together till they came to
the skirts of Coldingham Common. " Brother," said the
giant of St. Abbs as he stood still, " the Abbot
requested me to send you home in a hurry." On saying
which he seized hold of him, swuni; him once or twice
round his head, and then with all his strength he sent him
flying headlong through the air the incredible distance of
ten miles, and when he landed at his own door he came
down with such a smack as made ('ocklturuiaw shake to
its very center. One would naturally imagine that after
wuch an adventure the life w uuld have been knocked
out o' him, but such it appears, according to tradition,
was not the case, for that night lie consumed more beef
and mutton than I dare venture to place upon paper.

One day the Abbot of St. Abbs discovered that
his giant had been hatching treason, and as treason in
those days was a crime of the deepest dye, he was con-

172

8KBTCHKR AND ANECDOTEB.

■it

■II

(ienincd and ordered to be hurled from the battlements
to the raging sea below. When this was about to be
put in execution, there appeared at the gate of the
Abbey a Turk of powerful make and commanding
appearance, who demanded an audience with the Abbr>t.
The audience was granted and the dcHtruction of the
giant was deferred, to the great disai)pointment of a
large concourne of i)eo})le who had asseinbk'd to witriesH
the tenaiuation of his earthly career. The Turk after
paying his obeisance to the Abbot handed Iiim
letters of introduction written in the Latin tongue, the
j)urport of which went to inf«jrni him that the Turk was
the greatest swordsman that the world had ever jik.-
duced, and that no man that had ever entered the lists
against him lived, but, on the contrary, were all invaria-
bly cut to pieces. On reading these letters an idea struck
the Abbot that it would be a good plan, instead of throw-
ing the giant into the sea, to match him in battle against
the Turk. He then made known his decision to his subor-
dinates, and desired that the giant be brought to his
presence in the yard of the court. The giant approached
with his keepers, with his hands tied behind his back,
and then the Abbot informed him that he had altered
his mind, and that he preferred that he should be put to
death by the hand of the Turk. He then gave orders
to unbind him, and a spear was placed in his hand. The
truni}>ot sounded for the onset, and the Turk looked at
the giant with an air of disdain and contempt. To show
forth his agility the notion struck him to leap over the
head of the giant. He gave a spring. The giant eyed
him, and when he was immediately above his head he
raised his spear, and sent it up through the body of the
Turk with such force that the stricken Turk fell on the

SKKK IIKS ANI» ANKCnoTKft.

17a

top of the Gfiiiut, who n-fcivcfl him with as much com-
poHiiiv ;is an ordinary tnnrtal woiiM t'cd the arrival of
a tlakc of snow. The sfx-ctators then rent tlic air \vit)i
aj)j)l:iMS(', an<l Home of iIumu riishdl forward ;iu-l lifU'd
the Turk down from olT ihi- shouhh rs of the ^jaiit aii<i hiid
him on the <j^r<Mnid. lit' t^'avo a scornfid hxik a1 his
advi'rsary, ami wilh his riinaininix strcriLCth lie Kaid :
"Monster tiial tli(ni art, I led humiliated 1o Ix' siiiin hy
sucli as thi'c. Oil I il' I c'ddd ojicc more haadlc my
Damascus blado." lie tiion turned his eves to tlie Ahbot
and said : "Sir Ahhot, tlie hand tliat has shiin many
a ij^aHant kniuflit at wappcn-shaw, tournament and on the
battle-fiehl will soon be cold. Your villain of a giant has
done for me at last." Here he gave a series of groans, and
then he said: "Sir Abbot, before my spirit leaves tliis
wounded body, one request I fondly crave, and that is
that you will send my remains to Constantinoj)le." The
last word faltered from the tongue of the dying Turk,
lie opened his ej'es. Ilis lips quivered, he ground hii*
teeth, be clenched his hands, and gave a convulsive
start. He raised himself nearly up on his feet, his
wounds gushed forth afresh, and he fell back lifeless
upon the ground. The giant stood and stared at the
dead Turk, and from his vacant look appeared not to
comprehend that he had accomplished so much. lie
was aroused from his reverie by the Abbot, who said :
*• Giant, knave, know that for your gallant exploit this
day your misdeeds are blotted out. Receive your
life at my hands, and furthermore, to crown my good
will, I will make you keeper of the golden coffers of the
Monastery of St. Abbs."

Now, Satan in those days paid a personal visit to the
British Isles, and having accomplished his work in Ire-

1V4

SKETCIIEK AND ANKCDOTES.

land ho paid a Hyinj^ visit to Scotland, and by some
means or another he found out that there was an
immense (juantity of ,i?old coin hoarded up in the Mon-
astery of St. Abbs. He accordingly paid that place a
visit and soon ingratiated himself into the fnvor of the
giant. One evening after vespers, and when the even-
ing stai' was shining, the two s;it down to have a game
at cards. The game ran high, and Satan allowed the
giant ff>r a time to hold the winning '-ard. He being
elated with success tossed upon the stone table two bags
of gold. On seeing this, Satan overturned the table upon
the toes of the criant, seized tlie bags of gold and ilewoff
in the direction >vhere in after years Cromwell marched
his soldiers into the interior of Scotland. It is impossi-
ble at this date to describe the agony that the giant
experienced. At length with one great effort he pushed
the stone table into the sea, and then he grasped hold of
the stone in- sat o)i and hurled it through the air after
the devil. He sent it with such force, as before hinted,
he left the imprint of his hand on its side. Satan
looked over his shoulder wlien nearing the top of Dunse-
law, and he saw and heard the mighty stone booming
through the air. He grasped the bags of gold tighter
below his armpits and redoubled his exertions, for in
devils, as well as in mankind, self-preservation is their
first law. The perspiration was streaming out of every
pore of his carcass before ho skimmed the top of Hai-
den's hill. Vet still he flew, and better llew. As In-
bounde<i over tlie water of Dve the stone w:is williin a
few feet of his bla/ing, sul{)liurous tail, when its force
was spent and it tell phunp into the stream ! Satan, it
appears i'voiw the tradition, got off " scot free,"' and it
18 almost suix-rtiuons to mention that the stone tlung by

SKETCHKS AXD ANECDOTKS.

175

the giant of St. A))l).s is the identical Ktone as dcHcribed
in the coniineneement of this story.

Anything further reganlincr the two Lammernioor
giants is hjst in tlie mists of obscurity ; hut we know
that Satan, from fear or some other cause, left for a
time the 'Hjonnie border land," for the next trace we
have of him was at K'irkaldy, in Fifeshire, where,
according to the old song,

"Some say the (h-iTs dead, Mk; dcil's dciul ;

Tin; dcil's dead, and ))uric(l in Kirkaldy ;
Souu' say lic'll rise again, rise auairi,

And iiatice tiic- ' IfiLrlilund Laddie.'"

In digging into the (tiyths of fhc ],;ist, wc cannot but
Rmile at the credulily of our ancestors, who lirndv
believed in the su])erhuman sway of hobgoblins, giants,
satyrs and devils. In our day we can alfonj to laugh at
these mere creations of the imagination, 'rhan such
beliefs it is 1 letter far

t(j icarn timi (Jod is love ;

f.ovc and i.ut dri'ad our Maker
And Itanisii siiiitTslitious cant
'iJout hells black hallansliaker.

<;<» iln.MK.
Some young men a]. pile.' to the parish schoolmaster
for a grant of the school J'or t|„. [Hirj.ose of using it f.»r
a debating club. Permission was -iveii ami the deb.ate
began on the .(uestion, - What tempte.! tie sparrow to
kill cock robin y" WHien these juoonshjne intelhM^tual
gladiators were in full blast the schooltnaster entered
and sat down, lb- ros,. up and said, "(J., Inune <'very
one of you, and study the useful, and do your i,cst to
obtain knowledge within the boumls of human conipre-

4^,

leiision.

17»;

SKF/miKS AND ANECDOTES.

JOirX AUXOTTrt BAIRNS.

John Ariiott livi <i amonir tho hills

Whore blows tlic cailiT <iir :
One itxini Ik' took his siiok. 'In mi he

Went nir to ('iiU'onl fair.

"Wticii hi' 'j:()\ lo 111" fair he lo.ikM,

And lli(!ii he (11(1 not fail
To S(;o holli horses, sheep anl slots,

And many cows for sale.

He met with in;ui_\ of Iiis iVi<,'i:ds ;

Th(\v n were trlnd to see him ;
They kindly ask-Mi if >!ill his wife

And bairns were living- wi' him.

How pleased was he, how plea.sed were ihey,

He saw it in their faces,
When he informed them that liis wife

Had now nirio lads and lasses.

When they heard this, " IJy George." they erjo'

And oil they went, dc-larin'
Thai they wotdd look around and buy

Ilk ane o' them their fiiirin'.

When John got hamo' bout ten o'clock,
His wife unto him said,
"John. Jolm, keep still, y<']\ wake the wri m.
The weans are a' in bed,"

Wi' this wee Jean ga'e Tam a clout ;

Her mither cried, " For shame,"
Tam woke, then yelled wi' all his might,

" Jean, Jean, my father's hame."

Then frae their beds the bairnies sprang.

And ther*' \\a> sic a scene.
When he ga'e Tam a rattle, and

A trumpet gave to Jean.

To I*at(.' he gave a pearie, and

Wee Smiimie got a top .
And Nainiie ,got a braw, l)raw doll.

And Mei!- a skijiping rope.

SKITC'HKS A%r> A.VKCIi :>; r:s.

A I'.MifOry slifiwl li(> handed Nell,
\Vi' How IS wron'j-iit up tlic middle;

Paul ■/,(,! a dou'ilc-!.];vd('ii kniCi ,
Anil I\(.M.io w-ot ;i fiddle.

He gave tliciii nuts and ginacr-brerjd,

And 8audy got a whistle,
And here I blusli when 1 record—

They sent .loh'i's wife a hustle.

But tliere was one— qu(>en of my Jiear'-
Wliosc wort!) can ne'er he told ;

I sent to iifT a hraeelet, and
Two rings of hcalen gold.

! what ;i night o' fun they had ;

O ! what a night o' din.
'Twas late e'er tliey got bedded, and

Next, moiji they a' sieeped in !

177

CELP^BUATING THE FOURTFI.

As my beloved aunt y liad Ix-en ai!in_LC for some time
wi' a sort o' wheezing c<)u<;li, yet the spirit of enthusiasm
seized us baith, and we thought we wouhl celebrate the
Fourth in Wind.sor. Wlu-n we returned hame, in the
gloaming, and after my beloved aunty had brushed all
the flies out of the house, I immediately sat down and
wrote the following :

Breathes there a man with soul so dead, who never
to himself hath said, this is mine own, my native land-
George Washington. Tliy spirit, independence, let me
share, Lord, of the lion-heart and eagle-eye — Ilenrv Clay.
Hail to the chief who in iriumph advances! honored
and blessed be the <v<iL;T(cn pi,u' ! - (ion. Jackson.
To horse! to horse! the .-.liUMlard flies, the })ugles sound
the call.— Thomas Palmer. Kwu tiger fell, and sullen
bear, their likeness an-l their lineage spare. Man only

178

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

[•

marn kind nature's plan and turns the fierce pursuit on
man. — Henry A. Robinson.

I rose and T recited the above to my beloved aunty,
and at its conclusion she exclaimed, " How beautiful T
It breathes the spirit of the air of freedom ; but you
have said nothing about Pocahontas." "Pocahontas I"
I cried. " Come to my arms, Pocahontas ! " " Bless
ray soul," said my beluved aunty, " she has been dead
for these many years." " Hush ! " I cried, "dinna break
the spell, let me trow that she is still alive," and I tell
asleep with the name of the bjautifid Indian niaidep
upon my lips.

JOHN McWATT AXD .JEAN McRAE.

Come hitlior frioivl^;, fome sit by nie,

And lend your ears uud list
Unto u woeful ballad "bout

A young phreuoloii;ist.
This young man's name was Jolm Me Watt.

And ho loved .loan ^IcRae,
And in his thcjughts this uiaideu was

Established night and day.

He loved her with an ardent love,

And in his conversation,
He strove to do liis very best

To gain her approbation.
In glowing terms he'd speak to her —

Whenever they did roam,'
'Bout Laycock, Spurzb.cim and Gall,

And George and Andrew ('ombe.

But ".viieri he spoke upon these heads,

.Jean often told her m<itliei\
That what he said went in one ear

And shot nut at t!ie otiier.
Her mother then at these remarks

Would be inclined to scold.
And tell her that a silent tongue

Is worth its weii:'lit in LJold.

SKETCHES AXD AXECDOTES.

17^

One niglit John sat in Jean's boudoir

Upon a cushioned chair,
He raised liis hand and he began

To smooth Jean's golden hair.
She looked at him with loving eyes,

Then rashly he did state—
"I tind that your dcstructiveness,

My dear, is very great ! "

With this her blood began to boil,

She rose, she stood ui^right,
And then she crii.'d "go, serpent, out

For ever from my sight ! "
With bleeding heart poor John McWatt

Went where the billows roar.
And he again was never seen

In Jean JMcRae's boudoir !

Now when Jean heard of John's sad fate,

She nlso sought the shore.
And she, like poor, pcjor John McWatl,

Was seen for nevermore!
Now all young men who are in love.

And all \-e maidens fair,
Take warning from the fearful fate

Of this unhappy pair.

SHE PURSED UP HER UPS.

Moses Zimmerman was the offspring of one of our
early pioneers. Moses got sick of solitude, so he engaged
himself to Mary Aim Ileavyside. Before settling down
to fight the cares and perplexities of matrimony he
resolved to visit foreign lauds, tiieii to come home au<l
do good, and love mercy, aud marry Mary Ann. The
indulgent reader mn^x lien- he pleased to leap over a
period of fourtv-eu v/ed^x. .Moses refuriu'd hotne, and
was received by Ivs Mary Ann with great presence of
mind, which is at al( •• .-ucs necessary. After some pre-
liminary remarks, Mary Ann opened her note hook and

ill

180

SKKIfUKS AND AN'ECHOTKS.

aai<l : " Well, my dear Moses, did you visit Europe, Asia
and Africa, and did you ijfo a» far north as Copenhagen?"
Quoth Moses, "I ]an(h'<l at Glasi;-ow, Scotland, and, my
dearest, tlic ladies in tliat city are beautiful. 'Their
brows ai"e like tlie snnw <lrift, their necks arc like tiie
swan, their f acres ai'e the fairest tliat e'er the sun slione
on.'" (^uoth ^^.•u•y Ann, "Moses, comparisons are
odious," She pursed up hei- lip>; and — shut up her note
book. .____

CULLODEN.

Tlie biiltlo's lost ! When day was gom*

The sky began to lour,
And murky clouds hung like a pall

O'er dark Culloden moor.
The Stewart cause is over lost,

Hark ! hark ! upon the gale
Is borne the shout of triumph and

The clansman's dying wail.

Among the wounded and the dead

A maiden treads her waj.
And aye the te^rs r()lled down the cheek«

O' bonnie Nellie Gray,
When darkness lle(l. ar.d when the lisfht

Its morning curtain drew.
Oh, how .she kissed thi; lips o' him

She lo'ed sac leal and true.

She's ta'en him to her father s ha',

And when n])on tlie wa}',
'Twas lifu in death to lean upon

His bonnie Nellie Gray.
She hi<l him inang the yellow hroom.

She's watch'd him late and ere,
And oft she heard the troopers whrn

No trooper's foot was there.

The night with all its fears was gono;

But at the daw o' day
The spirit <>' the gallant Graham

Forever passed away,

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

181

Down by the burn in Gleumore glen,

Where weeping willows wave,
There sleeps tlie chief— the gallant Gralium-

The brarest of the brave.

They laid hini in the dreary dell.

'Way from the haunts o' men-
Down where the streamlet soughs and .si,L'h«

And murmurs through the glen.
The ro6es tied frae Nellie's cheek,

The ro.ses fled away.
And broken, broken was the heart

O' bounie Nellie Gray.

For days they sought her by the burn,

They sought her far and near;
They called her, but no answer fell

Upon the list'ning ear.
They sought lier down in Gleumore glen

Where weeping willows wave,
7 hey found lier slee])ing her last .sleep

Upon her lover's grave !

A HOT NIGHT.
For some years Benjamin F. Thompson studieci
"Cooley" and other law writens. The law profes.sion,
however, did not agree witli his moral susceptibilities
80 he renounced it and bought a few cows, and he now
<lelivers good milk with a clear conscience. One morn-
ing he appeared pale and wan with the milk measure in
his hand. His eyes were half shut, and his once ro.sy
cheeks resembled the yellowness of a duck's leg. Me-
thougkt I saw before me CampbeH's "Last Man," an.l I
even imagined I heard these lines fall from his lips :

"Go, tell the night th.it hides thy face,
You see the last of Adam's race."

Mr. Thompson, with a weary sigh, said : " Oh, what
a fearful night I have come through. The heat wa«
beyond all endurance. I ^peak to you the words of

' I

■ I

fun

I i I
i

IH:

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

'■K

truth. I do not tell a lio, that tiiroiigh the flilent watches,
sir, 1 nevx'r closed an eye. At intervals I was on the
bod, and at intervals I was upon the floor. At intervals
1 was below the sheet and at intervals I was above it. I
sung ' Home, Sweet Home,' and played upon the fiddle
* H.iil, Columbia,' and recited 'The Old Oaken Bucket
That Hangs in the Well.' Yet these <lulcet sounds
brought no repose. My comlitlon was so deplorable
that I even forgot that mv foot was (jn nw native heath
and that my name is Henjaniin F. Thomp-^on. Though
doors and windows were flung oiiou \vi(\<\ the perspira-
tion welh'd up and rolled down like torrents to the sea,
I began to smoke, and the smoke arose till I thought
the very dome of my thoughts had gone on fire. Milk !
the tickets are out."

JEANIE DEAXS.

[Inscribed to Jas. B. McKay, Esq.,]

Poor .Jcaiiie left her hmcly hame,

And oh, lier lieart ^vas sad and sair;
She loft her father wi' the thought

That she would never see him mair.
She thought she ne'er again would see

St. Leonard's and its pleasing scenes,
Wae's me I she heard the wee birds sing —

Farewell, farewell to Jeanie Deans

She looked, she saw the prison walls,

By the wayside she bowed her knee;
She cried, " Oh, heaven spare Eflie's life.

And lay her load of grief on nie I "
Poor Jeanie I waesome were her thoughts,

As on she trudged from day to day ;
Behind was death, before was hope,

And hope from heaven led the way.

Poor Jeanie Deans ! How long to thee

Was ev'ry weary, weary mile;
At length she saw the London lights,

And told her story to Argyle.

SKin-cfiKs Axn ankcdotks.

183

He saw Jilt in licr liirlmi plaid,
lie took licr kindly hy the liand.

Ho .si,^^ll(.(l and said, "Cold l„. Ar-'yli",
Wlicii he I'oi'iicts ills iiativu lan<i.'

"To save your own, your si.ster's life,

You rould not s])fak a word untrue.
Your teiidiT licirt is free from ^iruile,

And purer than tlie mornin,!,^ dew."
When Jcanie stood afore tlie queen,

With quiv'riiiir lips she thus did say —
" The good tliat wc t,' others do

\V 11 cheer us (;n our dyin;,^ day.''

X'.w. when she reached Jier natiy.- land,

The prison dcjors )lew wide and fn-e.
She kindly .said, "Oh, Effle. come.

3Iy sister, come aAyay wi' me."
Sweet Jeanie Deans ! grand Jeanie Deans !

How Scotland loyes your very name,
Y'our name \vill live— forever live

Unsullied on the scroll of fame !

YOUTH vs. AGE.

If an exhil)ition of tailors was to take placo, Mr.
Isbel, if the judges are imbued with wisdom, would
promptly assign him to the philosophical class or depart-
ment. In course of conversation he remarked, " I am
beginning to believe that age is making sad inroads upon
me. Once in a day I couM fall off trees an.l houses,
and over precijtices, witliout bad results. Alack tlie
day ! If I now fall the comparative short distance of
Hfteen feet it shakes me ail up, and I feel all out o'
kilter for several hours. But more than that, I am now
inclined to become very desj)ondent and dumpish, aii.J
at these times woidd gladly give any man twcnty-tive
cents to take rae by the coat tails and fling me head-
Jong out at the window."

i it

mil

,13111

I •(

184

8KET0IIKS AND A N KCDOTKS.

THE IIOUUUKS OF WAli.

Mr. ShoMon, a gentleman (»!' tj^rfut iiit(.'lliLC<'ii(;»',
resided at one tiiuc at 'J'illlmry, Essex Co., Out., hut
now resides in Detroit. He was born, however, uhout
the year 1820, at Halifax, Nova Seotia, whldi eountry
was discovered hv John C'ab(jt in tlie year 1497. Early
impressions are frerinently the stronu^est, and Mr. Shel-
don still reiniMnhiTs old I)i(!k Dalryniple, an old warrior,
who was quartered in Halifax jjfarrison. Wlien the
nights became louij;, and the noses of people became
blue, Dick would recount many ai' liis war a<lventures
bv flood and field. Diek was at the battle of Waterloo,

" Wlicn l()U«l lh(j truin|i(!t blew,

And Oaledou hlcw n[) lier drone
On tli«,' plauis (>' Waterloo."

"As truth may lan<j:uisii, but can never perish,'^ quotlf
Mr. Sheldon, "(lie fullowiiijj: liad better be told in I)i(^k's
own words": "The bittle of Waterloo was f(JU!4hten
on June 18, 1815, and the niu'ht before I felt sae strunj^
that I thought I could cut olf the heads of 10,000
Frenchmen at one blow. I belanged to the Scots Grevb
and, my oerty, afore we went into the battle we were a
tine body o' men ; but afore we cam' out I can assure
every ane o' ye that we did get our kail through tlie
reek. When I saw Napoleon's cuirassers coming upon
us in the shape of a cid de sae, like so many devils let
loose, I trembled in the saddle and my heart began to
faint and fail. The thought struck me that I would
never again see the hills and dales o' my native land.
* Charge, Chester, charge ! ' ' On, Stanley, on ! ' And
all this gangs to show that we dinna ken what is afore
us : for next morning I was frying beefsteaks for break-
faat in one of their helmets."

SKETCHES AM) ANECDOTES.

THE COMING OF THE ROHIX.

[InseribtHl to Wm. Wa.vlkss, Lorulon, ( >nt.J

Wt'lconie. sweet bird of curly spring,
I've watched for flice so iJrig;

O, how it ciieers riiy weary heart
Once more to hear tiiy song !

1 see lliee from my lonesome couch,
I watch thee through the pane;

Thy song of gladness thrills my hejirt,
And hope comes bacli again.

Thou comest unto me as from

The golden gates above,
Like sunlight on the cloud of gloom—

A messenger of love.

The primrose smiles beneath the hedge,
The bee seeks out the llow'r,

The gowau lifts its head to greet
The coming genial show'r

The grass-green leaf bedecks the tree.
The flowers are blooming fair;

The sunlight dances in on me,
And lightens all my care,

Tlie weary wint'ry days have fled,
Bird of sweet song I how fain

I am to hear thy song of joy.
And welcome thee again.'

The sun has set 'mong fleecy clouds,.

The gloamin' steals along,
The dew-drop falls, and thou hast sung

To me thy eveiu"ng soug.

Bird of the spring, with jet black wing.
And breast like burnished gold,

Thy song melodious brings to me
A hope, a joy untold.

To me thou'rt linked by nature's hand,

O, could I wile thee near !
I'd fondly fold thee to my breast,

And love thee all the year
13

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(716) 872-4503

186

SKETCHES A3fD ANECDOTES.

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A CHANGE.

Auld Sandy McDonald thus complained : " Man, I
was ill yesterday. I was sair haudin' doon wi' the coal-
black cluds o' misery. My banes were a' sair, and there
was a noise in ma head like the birr o' a spinnin'-wheel.
As sure as I am a livin' mortal, my speerit descended to
the very nebs o' my taes. Parritch ! I couldna look at
them, and as for broze the verj'' smell o' them was
enough for my stomach. I was e'en livin' 'mang V>icker8
o' agony, and bowie's o' distraction. Man I Ilka breath
I drew gaed up and down my thrapple like living blast
frae a blacksmith's fire. At the lang and the last the
sweet began to gush oot o' me frae ilka pore, like water
oot a water cart. Noo, mark the change. Me and my
guidwife had a guid niglit's rest last night, and this
raornin' my heart is as light as the down of the gossa-
mer when it is Heein' hither and thither amang the
hills."

CAULD WEATHER.

[Inscribed to David Beveridhe, Esq.]

The winter's come at last,

Wi' a gurrly bitter blast, <

The wild winds how eerielj' they roar !

Oh, haste. Alice, haste,

There is nac time to waste,

And double lock and bar up the door.

My harp now hand me o'er,

I'll touch its strings once more,

There's naething like a sang, I say;

Song is the only art

That can cheer up the heart,

When auld folk are dowie and wae

Oh ! what a dreary view,

The burn is roarin' fu',

And lashing the bank and the brae.

The trees are standing bare.

Like victims of despair

When the last gleam of hope dies away.

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

187

Up from the days remote,

Care is the common lot,

He is Icing over way-faring man ;

There is sunshine here and there,

Tliere is sorrow everywhere.

Yet nature ne'er wanders from her plan.

Though weary, worn with care.

Though hedged in with despair.

And friends are far and few ;

Yet still, Alice, mine,

We must never repine

While the bright star of hope is in view.

THE WEAPON FELL.

It has come to my knowledge that parents far too
frequently overlook the transgressions of their children.
When these parents, I have often heard, are admonished
of their neglect of discipline, they often fling these
remarks in your teeth and say : ** It is impo.ssible to put
an old head on young shoulders ; " or, " Boys will be
boys." This is all very well ; but children, in my poor
opinion, ought, under all circumstances, to be early
trained to feel the rod of correction. To prove these
facts, the following is submitted without reservation :
Lucan Garland resides with his j»aronts on Locust street,
and he is named after the village of Lucan, which is
beautifully situated on the Liffey, province of Leinster.
One day Lucan threw a stone which almost broke the
back of an old maid's favorite cat. The old maid
informed Mrs. Garland of this, and she flew at Lucan
like a clocking hen at a collie dog and carried him into the
house. She then ordered him to sit down on a stool,
which he did with tearfulness. She then ordered him
to take off his shirt, which he did with meekness.
She then procured a big stick, but when she saw his

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188

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

beautiful white neck, the tear of compassion fell upon
her hand. Her hand became powerless and in a moment
the deadly weapon fell to the ground.

TWO LOVE-LETTERS.

These two letters contain a pleasing correspondence
that lately took place between Mr. John Scott and Miss
Fanny Blair. They illustrate the tender emotions of
the human heart. They prove that Robert Southey was
correct when he penned these words :

" They err who tell us love can die."

As the fire-and-flint age has passed away, this age may
be considered as the age of investigation and proof.
With this in view, I may state that Mr. John Scott is
descended, by a direct line, from Sir Michael Scott, the
great Scottish wizard, who flourished in that country
about the thirteenth century. Among some of his can-
trips I may remark that he cleaved the Eildon hills into
three cones, and put a bridle on the river Tweed when
that river was at top flood. As for Miss Blair, she is a
lineal descendant of the Rev. Robert Blair, who was
minister of Athelstoneford, Scotland, the celebrated
author of " The Grave," and who died in the year 1 746.
It may not be foreign to the subject to state that the
writer of these lines, in the year 1849, stood with due
reverence beside his lowly grave.

HE.

Postman, this letter take with care,
Instanter to Miss Fanny Blair.

Since meeting you upon Belle Isle

I'm in a woeful plight.
Your lovely image, Fanny dear,

Haunts me both day and night.

SKETCHES AND ANECD0TB8.

189

I spoke, and when you spoke, my dear.

Oh, how my heart did beat ;
Your voice, like "Annie Laurie's" voice,

Is very low and sweet.

The sun came out, and when I raised

Your paraaol, my dear,
I felt as if my heart had fled

To some angelic sphere.

Oh, how I longed to kiss your lips—

To vow and to beseech ;
But my heart failed and then, my dear,

I lost the power of speech.

You recollect upon that day

We met beside the stream,
We sat, we rose, and then we took

Three dishes of ice cream.

I felt so strange, as if the earth

Was rocking underneath me;
I strove to find, but failed to find

What was the matter with me,

'Twas love ! I found that Cupid's dart
Had pierced me through and through;

My Fanny ! none can comprehend
The love I have for you.

Sweet grows the apple on the tree.

The cherry and the pear.
But none of these are half so sweet.

So sweet as Fanny Blair.

At times I feel so sad, .so lone,

Lone as the lonesome night;
The thought of you dispels the cloud

And brings the golden light.

With this I send you a red rose

And a forget-me-not,
While I remain,

My dearest dear,

Forever yours,
John Scott.

I '!

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190

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

f I H'

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SHE.

Postman, Fly just like a shot,
And take this note to Mr. Seott.

Dear Mr. Scott,

Your letter came

To me the other day,
And when I read it I grew pale,

And fainted clean away.

They bathed my hands, they bathed my brow,

With what the French call eau.
Yet, for a space my life was lost

Among the sands of woe.

I could not for a moment think,

I could not understand,
How you could dare to ask of me

To give to you my hand !

I'm living with my parents now.

My parents kind and true,
And I would rather live with them

Than I would live with you.

We may have brothers, sisters, and

At times may have a lover.
But there can never be a word

That sounds so sweet as mother.

My father has a house and lot

On Brush street and Atwater,
And he holds bonds at 8 per cent,

And I'm his only daughter.

I would not like to write down " Yes,"

But, Mr. Scott, I'd rather
That you would come around and hold

Some converse with my father.

Though caution tells me, Mr. Scott,

From all men to beware.
Yet notwithstanding

I remain,

Yours truly,

Fanny Blair.

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

191

P. S.— Some Sunday, if you think

It would be wort': my while,
I'll bake u cake and we will take

It with us to Belle Isle.

O ! 'twill be grand when spring-time comes

Upon Belle Isle to be;
To hear the birds sing o'er their songs

Of love to you and me.

But I must lay aside my pen,

A nd get the coffee ground,
So 'bout Belle Isle we will arrange

Some night when you come round.

My father thinks that coffee is

More nourishing than tea,
He calls, I go,

While I remain.

In haste, yours,

Fanny B.

JEAN GORDONS PORRIDGE POT.

Being reared near the village of Yetholm, Scotland,
I flatter myself that I was much respected by the male
and female gypsies who were residents of that place. If
health and strength holds out I intend to write a history
of these people from time immemorial up to date. As a
specimen of the contemplated work, and as a sort of
avaunt courier, I fling out the following :

Charley Young was a tinker who made and mended
pots and pans, and Sandy Faa, who had the royal blood
of the Faa's coursing through his anatomical structure,
was a horner. That is, that he manufactured horn
spoons out of the horns of cows and other horned
animals. One day Charley and Sandy got drunk, and
Sandy sold Charley a horse for seven shillings and si.\-
pence sterling. Next day Charley met Sandy and he
said to him, " Ye are a mo.st notorious vagabond, scoun-

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SKKTCIIES AND ANECDOTES.

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<irel and cheat, and if ye £?ot your deserts ye ouji^ht to
be hanged up by the neck for half an hour. Ye sold ine
that horse yesterday, and ye gave warrant that it was
flound in wind and limb. Instead of which, ye 8cor|Mon
that ye are, it has the poll evil, greased heels, palsj' of
the stomach and an inordinate appetite." " Ma con-
science I " cried Sandy. " Your conscience," cried
Charley, " dinna speak to me about your conscience — it
is thread-bare ; a speeder wadna' hank its web to such a
mess of corruption." On saying this Jean Gordon
approached with a broken pot in her ^-ind, and she said,
" Charley, I wish ye would go momently and men<l my
porridge pat. It fell oiT the fire full o' boiling water,
and it scalded the cat and its hair is coming off its back
by the handfuls, and the bairns are roaring wi' hunger,
for, I weel I wat, they winna' get a mouthfu' till the
pat, mere}' me ! is mended."

JAMES THOMSON.

Author of "The Seasotu."

When winter's surly blasts Hy past,

And to the north retire,
How sweet ye welcome gentle spring.

Decked iu her green attire.
When glorious summer smiling comes,

With blushing tlowers array'd,
Thou art our guide o'er hill and dale

To streamlet, glen and glade.

When autumn's robed with golden sheaves,

Then l)eautiful and blate,
Unto the fields Lavinia comes

To glean and captivate.
And when th}' hoary winter comes,

Cold, naked, shivering, sere,
It totters, then falls in the arms.

And clasps the dying year.

J it

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

10)

Of thy great hymn, " These as they change,'

Mankind will never tire,
It burns, it breaths the highest thotights

That heaven am inspire.
The storm, the shine, the genial shower,

The hill, the dale, the river.
Great rural bard I Thy name and fame

Arc linked with them forever.

Fain would I stray by Tweed's fair stream,

And o'er the hills to Yarrow,
And wander in the winding dell

That has no mate or marrow.
Alas ! the scenes you have describd,

So graphic and so grand.
No more I'll see, the night falls fast ,

Farewell, my native land.

THEY RETURNED IN A HURRY.

Prof. David Fairgrieve is an erudite scholar and is
grounded in many languages. His general information
is widespread. With truth I affirm that learning has
refined him and elevated his mind. As like draws to
like we often meet, and when we meet we light the lamp
of wisdom and we rejoice in the thought that all the
riches of California cannot purchase mental endow-
ments. Aside from Mr. Fairgrieve's scholastic duties he
takes great delight in rearing young chickens and in teach-
ing their young ideas how to shoot. One morning two
chickens strayed away and got into a neighbor's garden .
The neighbor, in a friendly manner, rapped on the door
and informed Mr. Fairgrieve's lady of the above fa(!t.
The lady went immediately to drive them out, and as
they came out at the gate Mr. Fairgrieve came out at
the door. They flew past him on the wings of terror.
He looked at them with wonder and he exclaimed, " Qwv
amissa salva " — what was lost is safe.

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SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

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THE POWER OF SNUFF.

llriHcribed to Wm. Younjf, Ewi., Huiiiilton, Ont.]

Lo ! Lauder lies in Lauderdale,

A town of great. renown;
And in it lived a frugal man,

Whose name was Thomas Hrown.

I knew him well, and I may say

I also knew his sister;
And many a time, ahint the door,

I — dear me — I have kissed lier.

Hud fortune smiled. I'm more than sure
She would iiave been my bride;

And then how sweet we'd warmed our.feet
At our ain higle-side !

Her brother did not live in style,

As some on Scotland's sod,
Hut for a livelihood broke stones

Upon the public mad.

He was as cross-grained as a mule,

And it nmst be confess'd
His temper was, to say the least.

None of the very best.

These traits were handed down to him

By generation stages.
From Picts and Scots who lived and lov'd,

And died in the past ages.

These were his faults, and I am loath

To be tt fault recorder;
To make amends, I swear his worth

Was of the highest order.

Some men are prone to wink at vice,

And advocate the wrong;
But as for me, let virtue be

The essence of my song.

Now in the town all men, with pride,

This worthy man regarded;
And even wives agreed that Brown

Some way should be rewarded.

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

Hark: I am pleaseil now to relate,

And up my bonnet lling,
That this ik-sign brought forth its fruit

Quite early in the spring.

They made 1dm lord and provist, and

O, h(t\v they were clatwl,
When on that day, Ity dint of law,

He was inaugurated.

The tiddlers played in the town hall,
The dance went fast and faster,

Fun was let loose, Joy bounded up.
And knoekit doon the plaster.

The provist made a telling speech,
His words were terse and fervent;

He said, " Forever IhjM remain
Their most obedient servant."

The dear remembrance of that night

No time can e'er destroy,
E'en candlesticks went reeling, and

The candles ran wi' joy.

Ah, me ! I'll ne'er forget that night

As on the floor I stepjjed it,
At a propitious moment J

Propost<l and was accepted .

Though many a day has passed and gane
Since Thomas Brown's election.

His sister yet remains my pink
And rosebud of perfection.

And though her brother up was raised

To this important station,
Yet that did not restrain him from

His usual occui^atiou.

One day when he was napping stones

A man drove up with speeil,
He cried: " Take olf these stones, I'm bound

For Berwick-upon-Tweed. "

195

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196

AKKTCilKS AM) ANK« HOTKH.

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Quo' hi>: " I will not in*)V(> tliein though
Your horst; with gold was sIknI;

So ye limy turn your horsr's head
And gang the «)th4>r road."

Quo' he: " I'll turn ahout and tell

The provist upi>n you,
And I may whisper that my name

Ih John, duke of Buccleugh,"

The provist looked with bitter scorn,
He cried : " Now stop your clamor,

I am lord provist, and take care
O' my great big stane hammer.

"Ye tell mc that ye are a duke.

Ye maybe are a marquis;
But faith, I carena' though ye be

The prince o' outer darkness. "

The duke cried, " Provist, take a gnuflf,"
Which brouglit them close together.

Syne they set down and cracked amang
The bonnie blooming heather.

They cracked and snuffed and better SDufTd;

The hours Hew past wi" speed.
That e'en the duke forgot to go

To Berwick-upon-Tweed.

And oh, his wife sat up that night

And sair did greet and moan,
And wring her lily hands and cry,

" What can be keeping John ? "

But when he met Her Grace — his wife,

Whom he did love most dearly,
She dried her tears, and then — what then ?

She kissed him most sincerely.

As for the provist, he ran hame.

And roared, "Ye burghers, see
This gold snuff box that I got from

My lord— Oh, mercy me ! "

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MKRTniRH AND ANK<I»OTK8.

191

When nrown'8 guiilwifi- y tho ( oulThox,
Wow ! wow ! hut she o/jle,

81r' jiimplt up aiKi on the i )()r
Sill' 4liiiic('<l the " Ucol «• Uogh'."

And iiyt' hIic (|iiiiic<l ami nyv she mug,

"O I hidciinil tide and tow,
O. hide iind tide, ho^l^rh ! hide and Mde,

I ani u htdy now !"

SriAKKSI'KAKK.

The hpiirl beatx low wlicn Gcnhis cries—

('an you esHuy tin- tasli
To write of him whose mind is far

Beyond the liuman grasp ?
Fain would I sing in golden words

A song angelic sweet,
And bow the knee with humbleness

And worship at his feet.
The joy, the grief, from youth to age.

Tlie love-hope and despair;
Shakespeare, ulone. unlock u the heart.

And laid the passions J>are,
What wond'rous visions of the mind

Thy fervid pencil drew.
Of spirits in the earth and air.

Of every shape and htie.
Thy scenes are tilled with human forms

As if with magic art.
They come— they answer at thy call—

To speak and play their part.
With curious shapes ye deck'd the trees,

The bush, the fern and tlower.
And mankind wonders more and more

At thy creative power I
Forgotten are the great and brave.

The migljty kings and sages.
But Shakespeare will be idoliz'd

Througli all the coming ages.
Shakespeare ! I fain would sing of thee

A song angelic sweet.
And bow the knee with humbleness.

And worship at thy feet.

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!98

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

THE DAFT DAYS.

To John A. Brite, Es(|., Hamilton, Ont.:

My Dear Friexd — Some time aj^o I spent eonsid-
erable time in a vain endeavor to trace the root and
meaning of the word " Hogmanay," but the more I
advanced tlie further tlie meaning of tlie word receded.
In "Jameson's Scottish Dictionarv " it is classe(i as a
word of dou})tfuI meaning. Prof. IloVjinson, of Edin-
burgh, considered tliat it had its origin from the French
words At) guex menez, whicii means " to the mistletoe
go." Another philologist was of the opinion that the
word in question came also from the French An f/uex
menez, which means " l)ring to the l)eggars." Robert
Chambers makes mention of a custom in tlie Highlands
of Scotland where one of the young people gets a dried
cow's hide which he drags l)ehind him, and the rest fol-
low beating the hide with sticks and singing the follow-
ing rhyme in Gaelic, which is thus translated :

" Hug man a',
Yellow bag.
Beat the skin
Carlin in neuk,
Carlin in kirk,
Carlin ben at the fire.
Spit in her two eyes.
Spit in her stomach.
Hug man a'."

It will he observed that the words "Hug man a'"
are used twice in this rhyme, which much reseml>les the
word " hogmanay." The reader will also observe that
the word " Carlin," that is old woman, is also thrice
introduced. In illustration of this rhyme a Lowland
Scotch friend of mine, who knew nothing of this High-
land custom, and who never saw the rhyme above

SKETCHES AST) ANECDOTES.

199

<luoted, thus attempted to explain the meaning and
origin of the word hogmanay, which had better be given
in his own words : " In the auld time, the davs a" the
end and beginning o' the years were ca'd the "daft
days," and in the lang-syne a lot o' braw lads and l,on-
me lasses had gathered to drive care against the wa'.
When the fun was gaun on, a strange man— a man cral-
lant and gay, joined the party. Now, in this company
there was a bonnie lass that caught the stranger's fancy,
and he embraced and kissed her frae time t.> time. At
the ingle-side there sat an auld carlin wha was wat.hin'
the partial proceedin's o' the stranger, and she roared
out to him, 'i?-*^^ tnan n\' which means in Em-lish,

* Man, embrace the rest of the lasses,' or in other ^^•r».•dsi

* Do not bestow all your attention on one.' "

My friend may be right, or he may be wrong, but
there is certainly some connection between the IfigTlaiul
rhyme and the Lowland tradition. lie is right^ how-
ever, in calling these days ''The Daft Da}^s."' The
unfortunate poet Fergus.«on wrote a poem entitled " The
Daft Days," from which, in illustration of the customs
of the time, the following may be quoted :

"Let mirth abound, let soeiiil cheer
Invest tlie dawiiin' o' the yefir;
Let blytljsome innocence appear

To crown our joy:
Nor envy wi' sarca.stic sneer *

Our bliss destroy. •

And thou ijreat trod of A(|Uavitac,
Wha' sways the empire o' tliis citv—
Whan fou, we're sometimes capernoity—

Be thou prepared
To hedge us frae that black banditti,

The city guard."

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SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

I may here explain that in the poet's day the peace
of Edinburgh was protected by the " City Guard," and
this guard was composed of old Highland warriors.
Instead of the baton they carried Lochaber axes, and
with one of these they would think no more of hewing
a man down than they would to sup a cog o' brose. The
poet in his poems more than once pours out the vials of
his wrath upon these " black savages," whom he consider*
far worse than " the hungry maw of a lion or the tusk
of a Russian bear."

In weighing all that has been said regarding the word
" Hogmanay," I am inclined to agree with my learned
friend, M. Garland, Esq., that it is a compound word^
and derived from the Gaelic. In that language Eachd
signifies a deed or exploit, and Mainigh signifies mad-
ness or foolishness. Should a Gaelic scholar combine
these two words and pronounce them, the sound will be
found to much resemble the word Hogmanay. Cer-
tainly, the significance, to say the least, is strong
circumstantial evidences of Mr. Garland's side of the
question.

Regarding the " Daft Days " the guidwives were in
the habit of baking large quantities of oatmeal cakes,,
and these were cut into farls, i. e., into four parts, and
these were handed round to the guizarcU or other callera
to the tune of —

Get up guidwife and shake your feathers,
Dinna think that we are beggars,

We are bairnies come to play,
Get up and gie's our hogmanay.

The origin of the guizard play of Galatian, like the
word Hogmanay, is unknown. The English have a
play which they play at Christmas which somewhat

SKETCHES AND AXECDOTKS.

201

te the

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jwbat

resembles the Scottish play of that name. I have been
informed by a gentleman from Galashids that the Scotch
rendition of this play was held in high esteem by Sir
Walter Scott, who, when residing at Abbotsford, had a
company of guizards to enact it on the aiild year nights.
I am inclined to think this play has never appeared in
print on this side of the Atlantic.

OALATIAN.

Enter Talking Man — Haud awu rocks and haud awu reels,

Haud awa stocks and spiuniii' wheels,

Rede room for Gorlaud, and gie us noom to sing,

And I will show you the prittiest rhyme

That was ever heard in Christinas time.

Muckle Head and Little Wit, stand ahint the door;

But sic a set as we are ne'er were here afore.

Shew yourself Black Knight !
Black Knight — Here comes in Black Knight, the King of Macetlon,

Wha has conquered a' the warld but Scotland alone.

When I cam' to Scotland my heart it grew cold,

To see a little nation sae stout and sjie bold—

Sae stout and sae bold, sae frank and sae free;

Call upon Galatian to fight wi' nie.
Oalatian — Here come I, Galatian; Galatian is ma name;

Sword and pistol by ma aide. I hope to win the game.
Black Knight— The game, sir, the game, sir, it isna in your power;

I'll cut you down in inches in less than half an hour.

My head is made o' iron, my heart is made o' steel.

And my sword is a Ferrara, that can do its duty week

Down, Jack, down, to the grouiul you must go.
They Fight and Oalatian Falls— Oh ! Oh : what is this I've done ?

I've killed my brother Jack, my father's cmly son.
Talking Man — Here's two bloody champions that never fought
afore;

And we are come to rescue him, and what can we do more ?

Now Galatian he is dead and on the tloor i'^ laid,

And ye shall suifer for it, I'm unco sair afraid.
Black Knight — I'm sure it wasna me, sir, I'm innocent o' the
crime;

'Twas the young man behind me, wha drew the sword s»e
fine.
14

♦

RJliV f

202

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

Dill

'i«

Young Man — O, you awful villain, to lay the blame on me;

When ray twa een were shut, sir, when this young man did
dee.
lilack Knight — How cotild your een be shut, when you were
looking on?
How could your een be shut when their swords were being

drawn?
Is there ever a doctor to be found in auld Scotland's ground?
'Tti'king Man — Call in Doctor Brown, the best o' a' the town.
Enter Doctor — Here comes in as good a doctor as ever Scotland
bred;
And I have been through nations, a-learning of my trade;
And now I've come to Scotland all for to cure the dead.
Blftck Knight— WhiV can you cure ?
Doctor- 1 can cure the rurvy scurvy;

And the rumble-gumption in a man tliat has been seven years
in his grave or mair; and I can make an auld woman
look like a girl o' sixteen.
Black Knight — What will you tak' to cure this dead man ?
Doctor — Ten pounds
Black Knight — Will not one do ?
Doctor — No.

Black Knight — Will not three do ?
Doctor — No.

Black Knight— WiW not five do ?
Doctor — No.

Black Knight— Yf'iW not seven do ?
Doctor — No.

Black Knight— Vf'xW not nine do ?
Doctor— Yes, perhaps — nine may do, and a dram o' whisky. I

have a little bottle of inker-pinker in my pocket.
{Aside to Oa,hititin)—T'Ake a little drop o' it.

By the hocus-pocus, and the magical touch of my little fin-
ger, start up, John.
Galatian Rises and Cries— Oh, my back !
Doctor — What ails your back ?
Oalatian — There's a hole in't ye may turn your nieve ten times

around in it.
Doctoi' — How did you get it ?
Oalatian— Fighting for our land.
Doctor — How many did yo kill ?
4}alatian—l killed a' the loons but ane, that ran and wadna stand.

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

203

in did
1 were
I being
round?

711.

cotlaud

ade;
A.

n years
woman

lisliy. I
iittle flu-

ju times

la stand.

(The whole party dances and Qalatian ainga) —
Oh, ance I was de>id, sir, but now I am alive,
And blessed be the doctor that made me revive,
We'll all join hands and never fight more,
We'll all be good brothers as we lia'e been afore.

Enter Judaa—lli're comes .Judas, Judas is my name.

If ye put not sillf r in my bag for guidsako, mind our wamel
When I gaed to the castle yett and tirled at the pin,
They keepit the key o' the castle and wadna let me in.
I've been i' the east carse,
I've been i' the west carse,
I've been i' the Carse o' Gowrie,
Where the cluds rain a' day pease and beans,
And the farmers theek houses wi' needles and preens;
I've seen geese gaun on pattens.
And swine fleeing i' the air like peelings o' iugons.
Our hearts are made o' steel, but our bodies sma' as ware
If you've ony thing to gie us, stap it in there.
(Pointing to the bag.)

All sing — Blessed be the master o' this house, and the mistress also.
And a' the little bairnies that round the table grow;
Their pockets fu' o' siller, their bottles fu' o' beer—
A merry, merry yule, and a happy New Year.

Different songs were then sung by the guizards,
either individually or collectively.

In my early years, when residing in the Laniiuer-
raoors, I took an active part in these heartsome and
lightsome frolics. At one of these one of ray compan-
ions sang a song which I have never seen in print. The
burden of it I can only remember :

" There's ae ae cog and a cog between,
There's twa twa cogs and a cog between.
There's three three cogs and a cog between ;
The miller's daughter kens rigiit weel
How many cogs there's in the mill wheel."

I have a number of rhymes connected with the
"Daft Days" — the braw days o' lang-syne, but, my
dear sir, I must draw this letter to a conclusion.

204

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

«»

;<■

A LAY OF ABBEY ST. BATHANS.

[Inscribed to Wh. Youno, Esq., Hamilton, Ont.]

In the very heart of the Lamraerraoor hills is situated
the small village of Abbey St. Bathans. About the
end of the last century the Rev. Mr. Skedd was its par-
ish minister. He was not like some ministers of these
days, who were called " dry sticks," but on the contrary
was a most eloquent preacher in the pulpit, and out of
it was famed far and near for his ready wit. Like
other ministers of that period, Mr. Skedd was very
poorly paid for his ministerial services, and had enough
to do to maintain a. large family upon a small income,
and was obliged, for the purpose of making '* ends
meet," to manufacture, on a small scale, baskets and
potato creels, which were sold by his wife to the farm-
ers in the vicinity. Mr. Skedd was in the habit of
making one basket every week day, and numbered the
days of the week by the number of baskets he made.
He was very absent-minded and forgot that he had
preached on a Thursday in a neighboring parish, and
curious to relate his little daughter found him early on
a Sabbath morning at work upon the sixth creel. The
outs and ins of this incident have been turned into
rhyme to show that the best^samples of the human race
may fall into error: —

Aboot the uughteeu bunder year,
When meal and meat were unco dear,
When wark and siller, too, were scant.
And folk were like to dee for want,
E'en folk that ance were rale weel off
Could barely buy a quarter loaf.
But be content their gabs to gust
Wi' heel o* cheese or bannock crust,
And as for beer to aid digestion
Wah just a thought clean out the question.

SKETCHES AXD ANECDOTES.

905

situated
jout the
i its par-
of these
contrary
d out of
it. Like
was very
I enough
[ income.

ends

ikets and
the farm-
habit of
bered the
he made,
t he had
Irish, and
early on
eel. The
rned into
iman race

>n.

Haith ! they were glad to lielp themsels

Wi' hiilcsonie dniughts fnie nature's wells.

The halms that anoe hail breeks and braws

Went duddy ind as lean as craws.

When mothers heard tlit-ir wants and wishes

Saut tears wad fa' in empty dishes,

The men, maist feck, were cowed and worrit,

And wished that they were dead and burrit, '

Ane e'en wad think that dool and care

Cam' scowlin' in the very air !

In Abbey's auld romantic toon,
Where Whitadder comes rowin' doun,
And lingers in her seaward race.
As laith to leave so sweet a place;
Green grows the grass, the woods how green,
Nature ne'er made a fairer scene !
In the auld manse, half up the brae,
A preacher lived for monie a day;
Weel versed was he in Gospel law,
But liech ! his stipend was but sm'a'.
And here it may as well be said,
The preacher's name was Air. Skedd;
His wife was somewhat cross and fretit,
Gude faith ! her bairns were nae-ways petit,
For aft she'd gi'e them monie a lecture,
And lounder them past a' conjecture.

Ae morn she said. " Now, Mr. Skedd,
It's just twal' years since we were wed,
The bairn is sleepin' in the cradle,
The twins are playing in the stable,
The lave ha'e a' gane doon the brae.
To pu' the rasps till middle day,
Sae now gi'e up your meditation,
And take a half-hour's recreation;
Ye sit and read, ye sit and write,
Ye're drooned in thought frae morn to night,
Your mind is aye upon the rax,
Nae mair I hear your canty cracks;
Suppose we gang athwart the knowe,
To where the birks and willows grow."

»«<

r j;

fei

4'i

li-

20ti

HKETCIIES AND ANECDOTES.

C!!

m»

ilHI

The giiidniau gti'e a canty laugh,

And soon he gat his hat and staff,

Then aff they gaed wi' cannie trudge.

Up past the bonnie Imwtliorn hedge,

Until they came upon the bank,

Wliere willow wands were waving rank.

And then she looked at her guidnian,

And said, " 'Twas here our love began,

And since, though often sair and sick,

I've kept the band aye in the nick,

And dune my best in every shape

To keep the house 'ueath thack and rape;

Ikit, now, my dear, you may depend.

At last I've cotne to my wit's end;

The meal's a' dune and what is worse,

I've no ae penny in my purse."

He ga'e a kind o' vacant stare.

And said, " We'll spend an hoiir in prayer."
" Na, na, " quo' she, " the proverb tells,

• The Lord helps them that lielp themsel's;'

Just look at a' time willow wands.

If they were placed in nimble hands,

Ouidman ! they're supple as the eels,

And easy fashioned into creels;

And when ance made, I'm free to think,

They could be sold as quick as wink."
" What, what," quo' he, " what's that you «ay ?

I'm sure I could make one per day."
" Enough," she said, "this afternoon

The bairns will sned the willows doon; "

Sae Mr. Skedd and his guid dame

Reversed their steps and trotted hame.

It wasna' lang ere routh o' wands
Were placed in ministerial hands;
lie scarce took time to take his meals;
And in sax davs he made sax creels.

Ae day the guid wife to him went
And cried, " Come, see what Heaven has sent,"
He gazed, then into raptures flew
His auld mealark was heapit fou !

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

207

At' autumn mom afore the dawin'
And 'fort' the cocks began a-crawin',
He raised Ids liead frae afT the pillow
And soon besjfan to twist the willow;
And on that morn lu aft did say,
" Where there's a will there's aye a way."
Now Mrs. Skedd when she arose.
Sortn filled the bickers fou o* hrose ;
And then she said to daughter Jean,
" Gac, wipe the eob-wehs frae your een,
And seek your fayther in the study,
And tell him that Ins breakfast's ready."
The lassie ran wi" a' lier might,
But, oh : she gat an unco fright,
She stood transli.xed wi' fear and awe,
And scarce a single breath coidd draw.
Her eyes seemed as they'd burst their sphere-.
Till deluged with a flood o' tears,
And then she spoke in words of wae,
" Fayther ! this is the Sabbath day ! "'
The creel fell doou atween liis knees,
His wits came back by slow degrees;
He rose and said, "ye little jade.
This week I've only five creels made."
Then she cried out " Satan will tak' us,
Thursday ye preached at Lockermacus;
He placed his hand upon her head,
He looked like one- whose life had fled;
O 'twas a mournful .sight to scan
The visage of this holy man.
At length he raised his eyes to Heavi.'n,
And prayed his sins might be forgi\(;n.

mw\

APPLICATION.

Folk : the kernel of this tale disceiu,
And never be too old to learn;
Wise is the saw, I pray attend it,
A turn begun is maist half endit;
Jingle and jow St. Bathan's bells—
The Lord lielps them that help themsel's.

208

SKKTCIIES AND ANKCUOTKS.

REVIEWING THE CIRCUMSTANCES.

€

III!

u if.

Willy Dandy was a driijErgist's apprentice, and it was
considered that he was a callant that possessed niair than
ordinary' al)ility. When he reached his seventeenth
year a great change overcame him. lie turned donnert
and absent-minded, but worst of all, the meat he took
didna' do him ony guid, and the result was that he fell
awa' to perfect skin and bone. The reason assigned
for this w.as that he had got a fearful dose of calf-love.
He had fallen ower head and ears in love wi' Bell Pip-
per, alass wha belanged to the singin' band, and wha skir-
rled in the Parish kirk. Ae day an auld wife frae Buncle
entered the drug-shop, and frae Willy gat a quarter of
a pound of Epsom salts. She had not been long gone
when the love-sick blockhead discovered that he had
given her a quarter of a pound of deadly poison. On
becoming aware of this, his heart dunted against his
ribs, and his eyes winked and blinked as if they were
about to leap out of their sockets. His master was
from home, and he could not leave the shop to follow
the wife, but when night came he procured a horse and
rode into Buncle at full gallop. On finding the auld
wife's house he flung the bridle-reins on the neck of his
horse, and dismounted and dashed into the presence of
the auld wife. He found her half-naked, sitting at the
side of the fire, and the deadly drug in a tea-cup sitting
on the jamb-stane. W^illy immediately roared out to
her : " Dinna drink the drug, it is poison ! poison !
poison ! " On hearing this the auld wife fell into a fit —
she raised her hands and then fell head-long upon the
floor. On observing this Willy rushed to the door,
leaped on the horse, and when its nose was turned in
the home direction he said to himsel', "It's a' up wi' me

SKKTf IIES AND ANECDOTKS.

20P

„oo— I've killed licr onyway." When the auM wifo
came to her mental e(iiiilil,nuin she sat up on tlie floor,
and, on reviewing tlie eireiinistanees, she said, '* Blast
him, if I couhl i,'et a liaiid o' liim I wad knock the day-
lights oot o' him I "

TlfK TOWN OK WVAXDOTTK.

Withui tlic bound'rios o' our state.

Way up to Kowceniiw,
There's liills and dells and crystal wells,

And monk' a spivnding sliaw ;
But 'man,!,' the rounds in a' the bounds

There's not so sweet a spot,
There's not a place more dearer than

The town of Wyandotte.

It stands amang the waving woods,

Where robins sweetly sing,
And where the sparrows build their nests

In early days of spring ;
Where violets bloom and roses blush

To the forget-me-not,
Which tlower tiie maidens love to wear

Who dwell in Wyandotte.

Though Wyandotte is miles away,

My thoughts are ever there,
For in a cottage now resides

My chiefest earthly care.
How sad the day ! how sad the hour !

Tears from my eyelids shot,
When my wife went, four weeks to spend

Away in Wyandotte

I see her in the midnight hour.

I saw her on the way.
When steaming past upon the boat

Way down to Put-in Bay.
When steaming back I sang wi' glee

A soHg called " I'm Atloat."
When something whispered in my ear—

"Your wife's in Wvandotte."

■ - 1

t ,, ,

Cut
•m

•ttii

r I

',1

.1 . i

j 1

1» !

! .

; I t .

21U

SKKTCIIKS ANU ANKCDOTKH.

MRS. SUKKUI.OCK.

|lnserih»'il to Daviii K. IVvkrv, Ks(|.. Ofiniii |

CoNTKNiMKNi" is great i^aiii, Jmt vrrv IVw i^aiii <'oii-
teiittneiit : —

They growl at this, tlioy ^irowl ut lliat,

Tlicir j.rrowliu'.s ncvt-r duiif,
Tlit'V ne'er will learn to sing \vl' me,

Aye iveep the heart aliiine.

TIjomas Slieerloek aii<l Nannie, his wife, lived u)» in the
moors in se(jiiestrated phices, and neither one or the
other knew muoh about t^cMj^jrrapliy. They had fre-
quently heard of Anieriea, and had talked for a number
of years regarding the feasibility of emigrating to that
country. One winter's nii;ht Nannie was sittinj; toast-
ing her taes at a [leat fire when Thomas entered, and lie
threw off his plaid, hung his bonnet on a i>in, and sat
down by her side. " Nannie," quo^ he, " I ha'e a weighty
lade on ma mind, and I wad like to get it coupit. I met
Tibbie Stot awa' doon in the dingle, and we had an unco
lang haver wi' ane anither." " Uless ma lieart," quo*
Nannie, "what was ye haverin' about? I trow twa
haverals have met this blessed day." " I will soon tell
ye," quo' Thomas, " if ye wad only hand for a minute
or twa that lang tongue o' yours. Tibbie Stot and a' her
family, stick and stow, are bound to gang to America
sae soon as the snaw is aff the ground, and the March
winds blawn past ; and hearkin, Nannie, she wants you
and me to gang alang wi' them." " Gang alaiig wi' them!
ne'er ae fit will I gang. D'ye think I wad leave ma
native land to be tossed and tumbled, and in a' likelihood,
drooned like a beast in the raging seas, and swallowed
alive hy whales and other sic like vermin. But hark ye,
guidman, I will gang wi' you to America upon ae condi-

8KKTCIIEH AND 4NKi?l>OTK8.

211

tioii." "Aiul what is that coinlitionV" eiiquirt'il 'riioiiiai*.
" V'o wii<I liki- to kt'ii that," ivtortcMl Naiinit*, "but that
inatt<>r Huh no atwi'fii you an<l inc, l>ut atwooti the cap-
tain o' th<' ship. Sar si't yvrv hooso in order. an<l wr will
be in ArnerirM lani; afore 'I'il»l>ie Sfot and ht-rgraith, lor
1 we»l I wnt I tlinna like sic «'onipaiiy : tor, to tell ye the
e\en (loon truth. Tibbie Slot has nae inuir sense than a
hatehin' lu-n." About two weeks after this conversation
this worthy couple confrontetl the captain of a ship
bound for Atneri<*a, and before their passaj^e money was
paid, the following; conversation between the captain
and Nannie took place :

Nannie — "Guid rnornin'; are ye the captain o' the
shij* that sails to America':'"

Captain—" Yes."

Nannie — '* Will ve tak' ma Tamnias and me if ve
get us V "

Captain—'* Yes."

Nannie — " Upon what conditions I wad like to ken."

Captain — "Upon the conditions that both of you
pay your passajLje money."

Nannie — " Weel, we ajLjree wi' tliat ; but hark ye,
ca[)tain, the ne'er a Hi will I set on yere ship unless ye
aijree wi' ma conditions, and stick to them as if vere
very life was dependin' on their fullfilment."

Captain — "And what are they?"

Nannie — "After comin' a' this len,<^th to Greenock, I
hope, captain, ye will a<^ree, and if ye no ai;ree. Tamnias
and me will just tak' our taps in our laps and i^auL' hame
the road we cam': but ve look like a man wha kens a H
frae a bull's tit, and if ye pass yere word I ha'e nae doot
but that ye will act up to ma conditions, and my condi-
tions are just they ; and, as I said afore, ye can either

212

sketchp:s and anpxjdotes.

CI.
HI

Nil

agroo to them, or no agree to them ; but I wad like if
ye wad agree, after us sellin' our coo and our soo, and
our duoks and our liens, our chairs and our tal)le8, our
patH and our pans, and tlu' very cradle that our bairns
were rocked in "

Captain — "I am in a hurry."

Nannie— ' llurrv or no hurry, there is luck in leisure
ma bonnie man ; and noo I ha'e just this to say, that we
will gang wi' you if ye agree to tie the ship to a tree
duly every nicht."

Captain — " I51ess my soul ! "

Nannie — " Aye, ye may bless yere soul, and yere
hody into the bargain ; but I want nane o' yere willy-
wal lying ; ye maun just be either aff or on — either say
' yes ' or ' no,' afore ye get a plack o' passage money f rae
either Tammas or me. Ma faith, a fine story, for rae
and our Tammas to be rampagin' through the goustie
seas at the black hours o' midnight, without either coal
or can'le licht, and the sun doon and the stars hidden
wi' murky cluds, and in a moment the winds raicht
come up and blaw us to the deil kens where."

At the conclusion of this the captain gave a wink to
the clerk of the ship, and said, "Take the passage money
from this worthy couple, and give them a receipt in
these words — ' Received from Mrs. and Mr. Sheerlock,
ten pounds sterling, payment in full of passage money
to Quebec, on condition that the ship be tied to a tree
every night.' "

Nannie — " Thank ye, captain, man, ye ha'e mair sense
than I ga'e ye credit for. Tammas, pay doon the siller,
and get the receipt, and whan I sew it into ma stays we
will e'en gang and get our kists aboard, and may the
deevil tak' the hindmaist."

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTIi-,S.

•2\S

ilOT WEATHEH.

The (lay was hot. the night was liot,
Mair hot thuii 1 could bare. ().

The glass that hung at my door tlieck
Stood ninety aboon zero.

I scanie could draw a breath ava,

I het and better faund it ;
VVae's mc, thought I, e'en Beelzebub

Will ha'e a job to stand it.

So f rae our furnace o' a hoose

I sought a change o' air,
It wasna' lang till I sat doon

Upon a barber's cliair.

A patent chair the barber had,
And round he made me spin,

And soon I found I had nae hair
On lieatl, on cheek or chin.

When I was slowly swelterin' hame,

My faith, but I felt blythe.
When 1 was grippit by the hand

By iMr. John Forsyth.

Quoth he, " A sight o' you is good,"

Sae after some mair clatter
Wi' ae accord we baitli agreed

To drink some soda water.

When in the parlor John remarked
The unco heat surj)ri.sed him,

And that ae day a strong sun ray
Had very near capsized him.

We had ice cream, vanilla, too.
The truth must, shall be spoken,

That aye the mair we drank and drank
Our drouth we couldna' slocken,

Guid guide us a', upon this night

We had an extra session.
Discussing banes and antidotes

And social progression.

it^

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214

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

C.«.
Ml

€

•• ij:

John scamper'd over points o' faith.

O' Christian theology,
Then over head and ears he phingd

Into the Greek mythology.

He said, " The apple Paris gave

To Venus was a bonus. "
He praised her doves, but eursed the boar

That killed her dear Adonis.

" Now look, 'way in the darksome days

Mankind were vile and vain,
And womankind were treated with

Contempt and cold disdain.

" That Adam even badgered Eve

With words o' defamation,
Which proved that of her virtues he

Had no appreciation.

"Had she but lived in my own day

It would have been an honor
If she had sent a bare request

For me to wait upon her.

" I'd gone and would have ta'en her part,

And put the law in action.
And my friend ChambiTs, in his court.

Would given her satisfaction.

" But manners now are greatly chanij'd.

The lamp of reason's lighted,
Angelic woman's now beloved,

And heartless wrongs are righted.

•* Go home." he cried, " take my advice.

Go home and seize the pen,
And urge that peace may be maintained

'Mong women and 'mong men."

The soda water and ice cream
Had somewhat cooled our brain.

We parted tenderly as if
We'd never meet again.

11^

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

215

When I got homo my wife rol)oir(l.

And sad and sair did <frit've nif,
She said she would pacii up her duds
And gam? awa and leave me.

She ga'e a spring to rug my hair,

And to pull out a daud o't,
She ga'e a start when she foiuid out

She couldiia' get a liaud o't.

From tids event I may comment —
Our lives are tilled wi" wonders,

That men and hairns and even wives
Commit most .previous blunders.

Yet notwithstanding on the wall

An hour ayonf the ten,
I wrote these w(jrds, "May peace prevail

"Mong women and 'niong men. '

Peace may prevail, I hope it may,

Yet I will bet my bonnet
That Satan still will rule the tongue,

And hohl his mortgage on it.

SANDY'S WELL.

"The only time I ever saw Sir Walter Scott," sai.1 my
antiquarian friend, Robert Howden, " was aboot the year
1830. There is a well in Gslashiels kenned by the
name o' ' Sandy's Well,' and it has been known by that
name frae time immemorial. Noo, yv kon, some folk
took it into their heads to niak' some alterations on
Sandy's well, and some folk strongly objected there-
unto. To see about this, Sir Walter Scott, then Slicritf
of Selkirkshire, was sent for to settle the dirdom. Ae
day he cam', and I think I see him yet. He was a big
man wi' an unco heavy lang face, and he ha<l a grea]
big head. He carried a big stick, but it had nae head.
We a' stood round the well, and Sir Walter Scott
listened to the arguments pro and eon. At the conolii-

; i

i!i

216

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

sion o' them, he made the end o' his stick play <lu!it on
the ground, and then he said in guid braid Scotcli^
' Nane o' ye maun dare to touch Sandy's well, for it is
public property, and will be, sae lang as water rins and
grass grows.' "

IK;

BONNIE MAGGIE GRAHAM.

A bounie, bruw and winsome bride

Was my ain Maggie Graham,
How proud was I to set her doon

In my auld Scottish hame.
By auld and young it was allow'd

In a' the country side,
That no a lass iu a' the land

Could match my bonnie bride.

Though days and years ha'e fiitit past.

I mind it yet fu' weel,
How in tliu wint'ry nights she'd lay

Aside her spinniii' wheel;
And at ii clean hearthstane she'd sit,

And sing wi' mickle glee,
The bonnie sangs that I loe'd best,

She'd sing them a' to me.

The auld Scotch sangs, the blythsome saug»i.

The sangs beyond compare,
She'd sing them ower and ower again,

And lighten a' ray care.
But days and years ha'e come and gane,

And my ain Maggie Graham,
Nae mair will sing the auld Scotch sangh

In my auld Scottish hame.

She's sleepin' sound in the kirk-yard,

And gane is a' m}' glee;
My ain true love, my chosen one

Is ta'en awa frae me.
My hopes, my joys, are lied awa,

My grief nae tongue can name;
The dead leaves fa' upon the grave

O' my ain Maggie Graham.

:/:

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

217

TPIE AULD SANGS.
Hknry a. Ciianev, Esq.;

My Dear Sir— Some time ago you spoke to me
regarding the « P:volution of Song." 'l beg to send you
the following resuscitations :

Perhaps there is no country in the uorld that can
boast of more touching, heart-felt and heroic song than
Scotland. Every glen, mountain and moor is celebrated
in song, this for some patriotic deed, and the other for
some woefu' tale of blighted love or undying affection.
These simple and artless effusions are as true to nature
as nature is true to herself, and were handed down from
generation to generation. In the rural districts every
lad or lass had their bu<lget of ballad or song. In the
long winter evenings the singing or recital of which
were a never failing fund of instruction and amuse-
ment. To quote from an old song —

" O ! your very lieart would tingle
To hear the lads and lasses round the farmer's ingle. "

These species of amusements are well illustrated by
Scott in his *' Lay of the Last Minstrel," and perhaps
more so by Hogg in the " (^leen's Wake."

This Scottish custom, since printing became so gen-
eral, has now in a great measure died out. The mother
of the last named, in a conversation with Sir Walter
Scott in regard to this, thus spoke : " There was never
ane o' ray songs printit till ye printit them yoursel', and
ye hae spoilt them awthegether. They were made for
singin' and no for reading, but ye hae broken the charm
now, and they'll never be sung mair. And the worst
thing o' a' they're neither right spelled nor right setten
down."

I <

1„

218

SKETCHES AXD AXECDOTES.

^11 H.

Such amusements were not confined to the rural
pripulation. In Bellenden's Translation of Boece's His-
tory we find the following description of James VI. of
Scotland, and I. of England : " He was well learnit to
fecht with the sword, to just, to tournay, to worsyl, to
sing and dance ; was an expert medicinar, richt crafty
in playing baith of lute and harp, and sindry other
instruments of music ; he was expert in graraer, oratory,
and poetry, and maid sae flowan' and sententious verses
— he was ane natural and borne poete."

There is an evolution in song, and to point out this
is the purpose of this communication.

For Burns' manly song of " For a' That and a' That,"
we are indebted to a Jacobite song entitled " He's
Coming Here." The first of which I quote :

" Be kind to me as lang'a I'm yours ;
I'll maybe wear awa yet ;
He's ooming o'er the Highland hills,
May tak' me frae ye a' yet.

He's ooming here, he will be here ;

He's coming here for a' that,
He's coming o'er the Highland hilla

May tak' me frae ye a' yet.

The arm is strong where heart is true,

And loyal hearts are a' that —
Auld love is better aye than new,

l^surpers mauna fa' thai.
He s coming here, etc."

It will be observed that Burns almost copies the
obscure line, " Usurpers mauna fa' that." To explain
which I must confess is beyond my comprehension.
Burns' well known song of " The Birks of Aberfeldy "
is no doubt founded on the following, entitled :

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

319

THB BIRK8 OK ABKROELDY.

Bonnie lassie, will ye go,
Will ye go, will ye go,
Bonnie lassie will ye go.

To the birks of Abergeldy ?
Ye sail get a gown of silk,
A gown of silk, a gown of silk,
Ye sail get a gown of silk

And a coat of callimankie.

Na, kind sir. I daurna gang,
I daurna gang, I daurna gang,
Na, kind sir, I daurna gang.

My Minnie will be angry.
Sair, sair, wad she flyte.
Wad she flyte, wad she flyte ;
Sair, sair, wad she flyte

And sair wad she ban me.

Burns' song of « Duncan Gray " no doubt took ita
rise from an old ditty of the same name. The first
v^rae I quote :

" Weary fa' you, Duncan Gray,

Ha, ha, the girdin' o't,
Wae gae by you, Duncan Gray,

Ha, ha, the girdin' o't,
When a' *\c lave gae to their play
Then I maun sit the lee long day.
And jog the cradle wi' my tae.

And a' for the <,'irdin' o't."

•■ We are indebted to Allan liam.say for the preserva-
tion of many of our best song.s. ^' The Yellow Haired
Laddie" is one of his songs. It [^, however, copied
from an older version, the author of which is unknown:

'• The yellow hair'd laddie sat down on yon brae
Cries milk the ewes, lassie, let nane o' them gae,
And aye as she milked, and aye as she sang,
The yellow hair'd laddie will be my guidman .

220

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

■ f

i'-li:-;:

urn

Tht' weather is cauld, and my claithing is thin,
The ewes are new dippit, thoy winna bught in,
The corn's a' shorn and the liills are a' bare
And I'll never sleep wi' my mither nae mair.

The guidwife cries but the house Monny come ben.
The cheese is to mak' and the butter to kirn.'
Though butter and cheese and a' should gae sour
I'll crack wi' my laddie another half hour.
Another half hour will e'en mak' it three,
For the yellow hair'd laddie my guidman shall be."

One of our best songs is entitled " Fair Helen," and
according to Sir John Sinclair's "Statistical vVccount
of Scotland," " she was a daughter of the family
of Kirkconnel, and fell a victim to the jealousy of a rival
lover; being courted by two young gentlemen at the
same time, the one of whom, thinking himself slighted,
vowed to sacrifice the other to his i-esentnu'ut when he
again discovered him in her com|)any. An opportunity
soon presented itself, when the faithful pair, walking
along the romantic bank of the Kirtle, were discovered
from the opposite banks by the assassin. Helen perceiv-
ing him lurking among the bushes, and dreading the fatal
resolution, rushed to her lover's bosom to rescue him
from danger, and thus receiving the wound intended
for another, sank and expired in her favorite's arms.
He immediately avenged her death, and slew the mur-
derer." Tho old version is quaint and curious and rarely
to be found in any collection of songs. I transcribe it
entire :

' ' O sweetest sweet and fairest fair,
Of birth and worth beyond compare.
Thou art the causer of my care.
Since first I loved thee.

8KBTCHK8 XSD AXBCDOTES.

221

ben,

iir

l)e."

?n," and

family
if a rival
II at the
slighted,
when he
ortunity

walking
scovered

perceiv-
the fatal
icue him
intended
j's arms,
he miir-
Qd rarely
scribe it

Yet God hath given to me a mind,
The which to thee shall prove as kind,
As any one that thou shalt find
Of hi^h or low degree.

The shallowest waters make maist din,
The deadest pool the deepest linn;
The richest man least truth within
Though he preferred be.

Yet nevertheless 1 am content
And never a whit my love repent,
But think the time was a' weel spent
Though I disdained be.

O 1 Helen sweet and maist complete.
My captive spirit's at thy feet !
Think'st thou still fit thus for to treat
Thy captive cruelly ?

O I Helen brave ! but this I crave,
Of thy poor slave some pity have,
And do him save that's near his grave,
And dies for love of thee. "

The modern version thus begins:

" I wish I were where Helen lies,
Night and day on me she cries,
O, that I were where Helen lies,
On fair Kirkcounel lea."

There is only a step from the sublime to the ridicu-
lous, and here, though somewhat out of place, an anec-
dote may be introduced. An auld Scotchman had a
wife whose name was Helen. In the course of nature
sshe died, and he caused to be placed upon her tomb-
stone these lines from the above song:

" I wish I were where Helen lies,
Night and day on me she cries."

The soul-stirring and perhaps the best martial song
ever written, " March, March, Ettrick and Teviotdale,"

222

8KKTCUE8 AND ANUCDOTK8.

■%

I""

■t

If
It

!!' I

first appeared in Sir W. Scott's novel "The Monastery '*
ill the year 1820:

Marcb, march, Ettrick and Teviotdale I

Why, my huls tlinuu ye march forward Id order I
March, march, Kskdalc and Liddisdale;

All the blue bonnets arc over the border.
Many u banner spread flutters above your head,

Many a crest that is famous in story;
Mount and make ready, then, sons of the mquotainglen,

Pight for your queen and the old Scottish glory.

Come from the hills where your hirsels are grazing,

Come from the glen of the bOck ;\nd the roe;
Come to the crag where the beacon is blazing

Come with the buckler, the lance and the bow.
Trumpets are sounding, war steeds are bounding;

Stand to your arms and march in good order;
England shall many day tell of the bl«)ody fray,

When the blue bonnets are over the border. "

The old version of the above song lirst appeared in
" Ramsay's Tea Table Miscellany," but he neither knew
its author or its age. It is entitled " General Leslie's
March to Longmarston Moor." It possesses little or no
merit, but is introduced to further illustrate the object
in view:

March, march, why the deil dinna ye march ?

Stand to your arms, my lads; fight in good order;
Front about, ye musketeers all,

Till ye come to the English Border,

Stand tiirt and fight like men,

True gospel to maintain:
The Parliament's blythe to see us a-coming,

When to the kirk we come,

We'll purge it ilka room
Frae popish relics and a' sic innovation

That a" the world may see

There's nane in the right but we
Of the auld Scottish nation.

,1..

8KKTCIIK8 AM) ANK<;D0TBS.

2 a;?

»»

Jenny shall wear the hood,
.Fockic the surk of Oo(i;
And the kisf fu' o' whistles that inuks sic a cleiro
Our pipers braw
Shall hae them a"
Whute'er er)mes on it,
Busk up your j)lai(is. my lads,
Cock up your bonnets.

Burns sent his version of "Oh, gin my love were
yon red rose," to George Thompson of KcJinburgh; it is
founded on the followinLr:

O, gin my love were yon red rose
That grows upon the castle wu',

And I mysel' a drap o' dew,
Down on that red rose I would fa'.

O, my love's bonny, bonny, bonny.

My love's bonny and fair to see;
Whene'er I look on her weel far'd tu(-e

She looks and smiles again to me.

O, gin my love were a pickle o' wheat,

And growing upon yon lily lee,
And I my.sel' a bonnie wee bird,

Awa' wi' that pickle o' wheat I wad rtee.
O, my love, etc.

O, gin my love were a coffer o' gowd.

And I the keeper o' the key,
I wad open the kist whene'er I list.

And in that coffer I wad be.
O, my love, etc.

Lady Nairne, the authoress of the king of rollicking
songs—" The Laird o' Cockpen," lets us understand that
the " Laird," to use a Scottish phrase, had cast a sheep
e'e upon McClish's daughter, who was

" A penniless lass wi' a lang pedigree."
Not unlike this " Mistress Jean," the very best of
our Scottish lyrics have long pedigrees, and many of

'■■ I.

"1 !

224

8KETCHE8 AXD ANECDOTES.

CIti
,m

lt|

tliem have been traced up to the fountain-head of vari-
aV)le doggerel; while others again have been dressed up
and shorn of their original beauty and simplicity. The
well-known song, entitled " Maxwelton Braes are Bon-
nie," was written by a Mr. Dojiglas upon one of the
daughters of Sir Robert Lawrie, according to Robert
Chambers, about the end of the seventeenth or the bo-
ginning of the eighteenth century. We quote the fol-
lowing, which sounds somewhat curious when we com-
pare it with the present accepted and modern version
which was written by Lady John Scott, one of the tal-
ented daughters of the late John Spotswood, Esq., of
Spotswood, Berwickshire:

" She's backit like the peacock,
She's breislit like the swan;
She's jimp about the middle,
Her Wiiist ye weel might span.

" Her waist ye weel might span,
And she has a rolling e'e,
And for bonnie Annie Laurie
I'll lay me down and dee."

Regarding the words to the air of " Auld Lang
Syne," Sir Robert Aytoun, who died in 1638, wrote a
long ballad with the above caption, and according to
some authorities he is believed to have been indebted to
a still older version, which perhaps never appeared in
print. I submit the first two verses of Aytoun's rendi-
tion :

"Should old acquaintance be forgot,

And never thought upon,
The flames of love extinguished
And freely past and gone ?

, Is that kind heart now grown so cold

In that loving breast of thine,
That thou cans't never once reflect
On Auld Lang Syne ? "

i\ '

HKKTCIIES AND ANBCDOTRR.

325

Allan Ramsay'H song in the " Tea Table Miscellany"
thus begins:

" Should an Id arcnuiintHnce bf forgot.
Tliough they return with scars '!
These are the noble hero's lot
Obtained in glorious wars.

Welcome my Varo to my breast,

And arms about me twine,
And make me once again as blest,

As I was Langsyne."

Next I recall the first of "The Old Minister's Song,"
written by the Rev. John Skinner, the author of " Tul-
lochgorm," and other songs in the Scottish vernacular:

" Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
Or friendship e'er grow cauld ?
Should we nae tighter draw the knot
Aye as we're growing auld.

How comes it then my worthy friend,

Wlia used to be sac kin',
We dinna for ilk i'ther speer

As we did Langsyne."

A minister in Perthshire, whose name has escaped
my memory, penned the following curiosity:

" Shoul<l Gaelic speech be e'er forgot, JL
And never brought to niin',
For she'll be spoke in paradise
In days o' Auld Lang Syne !

When Eve, all fresh in ) eauty's charms

First met fond Adan/s view,
The first words that he'll .spoke to lior

Was " Cum ar asliun dhu."

And Adam, in bis garden fair.

Whene'er the day did dose.
The dish that he for supper teuk

Was always Athole brose.

■Iff

oCtfy^ t{-e^^\/Jio

28.

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

I.
itc

When Adiim frae his leafy bower

Cam' oot iit break o' day,
He always for his mornin' teuk

A quaich o' usquebae.

And when wi' Eve he'll had a crack,
He'll tiuik liis aneeshin' horn,
. And ou tlie lap ye'll weel micht mark
A poiiny braw Cairngorm.

The sueeshin' mull is flue my frien's,

7'he snt?eshiu' mull is grand:
We'll teuk't a hearty sneesh, my frien's,

And pass't frae hand to hand.

When man first faund the want o' claee.

The wind and cauld to tieg;
He twisted round about his waist

The tartan philabeg.

And music first on earth was heard

In Gaelic accents deep,
When Jubal in his oxter squeezed

The jaudie o' a sheep.

Regarding th'e now popular song of " Auld Lang
Syne," Burns never claimed it as his own. In relation
to which Dr. Charles Mackay thus remarks: "It is cur-
ious to reflect that the most popular song ever written
in these islands, that of * Auld Lang Syne,' is anony-
mous; and that we know no more of the author of the
music tharf we do of the author of the words. It is
equally curious to reflect that so much of Burns' fame
rests upon this song, in which his share only amounts to
a few emendations." Burns considered that the old tune
adapted to his song in " Johnt«on's Museum" was but
mediocre, and Thompson got the words arranged to the
air " I Feid a Lad at Michaelmas," to which that song
is now always sung. In " Cumming's Collection " it
appeared under the title of the " Miller's Wedding."
Neil Gow in one of his collections called it the "Millei-'s

SKETCUE8 AND ANECDOTES.

22'

Daughter," and in another gives it the name of *'Sir
Alexander Don's Strathspey," Dr. Charles Mackay
Btateis that the air of "Auld Lang Syne" "appears to
have belonged to the Roman Catholic church and to
England quite as much as to Scotland."

In corroboration of Dr. Mackay's remarks regarding
Auld Lang Syne, above referred to, I copy from an old
song-book in my possession the original words, so the
reader may trace the alterations made by the Ayrshire
bard :

Should auld acquiilutauce be forgot

An' never brought to mind;
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
An' days o' langsyne.

For auld langsyne, my dear,

For auld langsyne;
We'll tak' a cup o' kindness yet
For auld langsyne.

We twa hae run about tiie braes,

An' pu'd the gowans fine;
But we've wander'd mony a weary f(x>t

Sin' auld langsyne.

For auld langsyne, etc.

We twa hae paidle't in the burn.
When simmer days were prime,
But seas between us baith hae roar'd
Sin' auld lang.syne.

For auld langsyne, etc. ^

An' there's a haiid my trusty feire,

An' gi'es a hand o' thine.
Syne toom the cup to friendship's growth

An' auld lang.syne.

For auld lang.syne, etc.

An' surely ye'll be your pint stoup

As sure as I'll be mine,
An' we'll tak' a right gude willie-wauglit
, For auld langsyne.

For auld lang.syne, etc.

f
1

"'I

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228

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

c::

■■II

" .John Anderson, my Joe, John," is also an old song.
According to many authorities John Anderson was the
town piper of Kelso, Scotland. One authority for this
may be cited that of Robert Chambers in " The Picture
of Scotland." He there says, " A former town piper of
Kelso is said to have been the original John Anderson
of the song and air of that name." There is a tradition
that John Anderson was a baker by trade, and a piper
and wag by profession. This is in a measure confirmed
by the local rhyme, which has never appeared in print,
having escaped the notice of both Robert Chambers and
Dr. Henderson in their collections of Scottish rhymes :

Anderson, panderson, bakit a pie,
And sent it up to John McKie.
As John McKie broke his fast
Anderson panderson blew a blast;
John McKie then gave a groan,
Then cried " My day of grace is gone.
Oh ! bury me 'neath the willow tree.
Or drown me in the saut, saut sea."

Bishop Percy in his " Reliques of Ancient English
Poetry " remarks : It is a recorded tradition in Scotland
that at the time of the reformation ridiculous and ob-
scene songs were composed to be sung by the rabble to
the tunes of the most favorite hymns in the Latin ser-
vice." Among the number he mentions " Maggie Lau-
der " and " John Anderson, My Joe." The first verse
of the last named thus runs. I retain the original spell-

ing:

"John Anderson, my Jo, Johu, cum in as ze gae by
And zc shall get a sheip's held weel baken in a pye;
Weel baken in a pye, and a haggis in a pat,
John Anderson, my Jo, John, cum in and ze's get that."

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

229

igUsh

In Brash and Reid's collection, entitled " Poetry,
Original and Selected," and printed in penny numbers
between the years 1795 and 1798, a long version of the
song appeared. It was there stated to have been " im-
proved " by Robert Burns. It is not, however, to be
found in the " Kilmarnock," the " Falkirk," or the first
and second Edinburgh editions of the poet's works.
Burns, as the song is now sung, sent it to " Johnson's
Museum," and in a letter to George Thompson, dated
April 7, 1798, he claims it as his own composition. Dr.
Currie in his edition accepted this version, but left out
the long verses of Brash and Reid's, the first verse of
which maj'^ be quote<l:

.roliii Amlerson, my Jo, John, I wonder what you mean,
To rise sae soon in tlie morning, and sit up sae late at e'en
Yell blear out a' your een, John, and why should you do >io ':
Gang sooner to your bed at e'en. John Anderson, my Jo."

Regarding the tune of "John Aiulerson," Mr. Sten-
house, a most excellent authority, informs us, "though
long handed down by oral tradition, it was committed to
paper as early as 1579, in Queen Elizabeth's Virginal
Book, which is still preserved."

Burns, as is well known, was in the habit of collect-
ing the floating songs of the country, on some of which
he founded original songs, and others he furbished up
and made them more presentable to the public taste.

The songs and airs of Scotland are so prolific that
all the world to her are more or less indebted. Even
the Irish song " Wearing of the Green,'* the tune of
which is taken body and sleeves from the well-known
bachanalian song, "Sae Will We Yet." They are wel-
come; for sir, "does not song to the world belong?"

til|
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330

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

Itl

'i- iliii ■

i» ^ I ;! ; I

A DRAP O* YON.

At Coberspeth a fishwife liv'd

Away ayont Dunbar,
And maybe there's been better wives,

And maybe there's been waur.
Guidfaith, she'd neither work or want.

She just wad sit and groan,
8he ne'er was weel, but weel she liked
To drink a drap o' yon .

Just a drap o' yon, John,
Just a drap o' yon,
O, dear me, I'm like to dee,
Oh, bring a drap o' yon,

She ne'er was kent to wash her face,

And if accounts are true,
She ceased to goam the muckle creel

And cry out "cjiller, oo."
' Midst granes and graunts she'd tak' the M runts,

And roar " I'm dead and gone; "
Touts ! naething would relieve the jade

But just a drap o' yon.

Just a drap o' yon, John, etc.

Ae day the bottle had run dry.

She cried, "Oh I mercy me;
John, haste and ride unto Dunbar

And fill ittothee'e."
The horse was standin' at the door.

And as he leap'd thereon.
She roared: " Oh, ride 'tween death and life

And bring a drap o' yon."

Just a drap o' yon, John, etc.

Fast, fast and furious he did ride.

But slowly he cam' hame.
For aft he preed the wee drap drink

That he coft for his dame,
And when he landed at the door

She cried, " Oh ! hurry, John,"
Quo' he, " Oh, me, the deil take me,

Alas! I've drunken yon."

Just a drap o' yon, John, etc.

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTEja.

231

She's got a stick baith tliick and lang,

Like fire she at him flew:
She's thrashed him up, she's thrashed him doon.

She's thrashed him bhick and blue !
She ordered him to mount again,

Which he did wi' a groan,
Ance mair he rides wi* banes a' sair

To get a drap o' yon.

Just a drap o' yon, John. etc.

Ance mair he's back at his door step,

He stagger'd ben the hoose.
And there he saw his guidwife sit

As silent as a moose !
Wi' dread he spoke, he might as weel

Ha'e spoken to a stone,
Her lowe o' life had flickered oot—

She died for lack o' yon !

Just a drap o' yon, John, etc.

THE DUOUTHY YEAR.
The year 1826, in Scotland, was a remarkably dry
year. Great heat prevailed and the very earth gaped
and cracked for lack of moisture. It is remem'bered
8tiU by the olden people as the " drouthy year." The
Rev. Mr. Thompson was then minister of Melrose. He
was a man who read the book of nature by the light of
the lamp of reason, and did his best to trace the work-
ings of nature up to natural causes. One day a num-
ber of his parishioners waited upon him and with solemn
faces desired him to pray for rain. '' No," he replied,
"I can not do that, for what would weet Gattonside-
braes would drown the folk in Hell-" here the gentle-
man's memory failed him, but when it again serve'd him,
he added with a grin, " Hellinshaws." " Brethren," he'
continued, "to make matters more plain, the rain may
do for the high hills of Gattonside, but it winna do ava
for the low lying lands o' Hellinshaws."

ill

232

.SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

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n i'

THE STORY OP PRINCE CHARLES STUART.

[Inscribed to Rev. J. F. Dickie, Detroit.]

I may remark, prefatory, that John Erskine, Earl of
Mar, raised the standard on the Braes o' Mar in the year
1715, with the design of re-establishing the Stuart line
of kings. Many of his followers were taken prisoners,
but he with others escaped to France. He was un-
true to the Stuart cause, and died at Aix-la-Chapelle in
I 7-'^J. Tames Stuart, but better known bv the name of
the T*"* ider, was heir to the unhappy fortunes of the
House oi Stuart. As is well known, he was an exile
and resided in France. An original letter written by
Robertsou of Str'\v;in, also an exile, was presented to ino
by my friend William Stewart, Esq., Sarnia, Ontario,
and as it throws some light upon a remarkable page of
history, I copy it verbatim :

Lyons, 10th 19th, 1716, S. X.
iVlY Lord :

In obedience to Your Grace I am come to this J..entlu
V)ut the severity of the season obliges me to Breath a litle
in this place. I thought Apin wou'd have been ready
as soon as Major Frazer and me, but he complained of
an illness the day before we parted from Paris, so we
missed of that Happiness. Hugh Wallas of Inglesson
joynd us at Shallon four days agoe and tells me he and
Apin came together the lenth of Soignies but Apin find-
ing himself uneasy in this journey thought it better to
return to Gante than come on to Avignon till he gets a
more pressing order from Your Grace than that of com-
ing as soon as he can. This distemper of his occasions
various speculations, especially since some of the king's
friends suspected there was sum tampering with my
Ld's Stairs which Apin thought fitt to keep up from his
Brethren sufferers; Mr. Wallas will inform Your Grace
more of this matter when he arrives at Avignon; You4'
Grace knows what use to make of this to the best
advantage of the King's Interest. I shall have the

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTKS. 23.'i

honor to sahite Your ^race a<rainst Frieda v or Satin-
day next, and rejoice witli yon at the king f^ir maKter^
recovery. Till then and for ever I am my Lord

Your Graces most obliged and most 'obedient h.im-
Dle servant

ROBERTSON OF STKOWAN.

The rebellion in Scotland in 1746-0 is, what may be
tenned the second edition of the rebellion of I7ir,,".vn,{
is one of the most remarkable events in the history of
nations. Tlie cause of the house of Stuart to all appear-
ance was dead, but, as if by magic, it sprang into life,
and at every step in advance of Bonnie Prince Charlie!
King George, or, as he was termed, the "wee, wee, Ger-
man lairdie," trembled in his shoes, and it is said was on
the very point of flying to the continent. Though much
has been written on the history of that rebellion, yet it
is best written and better understood in the JaJobite
minstrelsy of that period. For example, the « welcome "
to the son of the Pretender is given with no lukewarm-
Dess :

"He cotnes. he comes, the hero comes,
Sound, sound your trumpets, beat your drums ;
From port to port let ciinnons rour
His welcome to the British shore."

Another song thus terminates :

" Then let the flowing quaich go round,
And loudly let the pibroch sound,
Till every glen and rock resound
The name of Ro3'al Charlie."

In the same tenor but in ;i livelier measure another
runs thus :

" O, merry may the keel row.

The keel row, the keel row,'

Merry may the keel row,

The ship that my love's in. "
16

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234

SKKTCIIES AND ANECDOTES.

"'■ ! m;

^'"ilil!

We conclude the songs of " welcome " with the fol-
lowing beautiful verse :

"The sun shines out — wide smiles the s.-ii.
The lily blossoms rarely ;
O, yonder comes Ids gallrtnt ship I
Thrice welcome royal Ciiarlie."

The songs of " triumph " are as strong as w.»nls can
make them :

" I swear by moon and stars so bright,
And sun that glances early,
If I had twenty thousand lives
I'd gi'e them a' for Charlie."

Ifighland hearts are as one :

" See the northern clans advancing !
See Glengary and Lochiel 1
See the brandish'd broad swords glancing I
Highland hearts are true as steel."

The ladies of Scotland were wild with enthusiasm for
Prince Charlie, and it has been remarked bv more than
one historian if it had not been for them the rebellion
would never have attained such magnitude:

" Oh I better lov'd he canna be ;

Yet when we see him wearing
Our Highland garb sae gracefully,

'Tis aye the mair endearing.
Though a' that now adorns his brow

Be but a simple bonnet,
Ere lang ye'll sec of Kingdoms three

The royal crown upon it.''

Bright was the prospect, all were ru-.|iing to hi.s
standard :

•' Duncan's coming. Donald's coming.
Colin's coming, Uoual's coming,
Dougal's coming, Lauchlun's coming,
Alaster and a's coming.

SKKTGHES AXD ANECDOTES.

235

Borland and his men's coming,
Cameron and McLean's coming,
Gordon and McGregor's coming,
Ilka Dunywastle's coming."

I may here explain that the word " Dunywastle "
means Iligliland laird or gentleman.

How sad and sorrowful is the wail of disaster and
defeat. Prince Charles is thus described :

" On hills that are by right his aiu.

He roams a lonely stranger ;
On ilka hand he's pressed by want,

On ilka side by danger.
Yestreen I met him in a glen,

My heart near bursted fairly,
For sadly changed indeed was he,

Oh ! wae's me for Prince Charlie."

Beautiful is the poem written by Smollett entitled
" The Tears of Scotland." We quote the first lines :

" Mourn, hapless Caledonia, mourn
Thy banished peace, thy laurels torn !
Thy sons for valor long renowned
Lie slaughtered on their native ground.
Thy hospitable roofs no more
Invite the stranger to the door,
In smoky ruins sunk they lie,
The monuments of cruelty."

The following verse recalls the words of 0>,sian—
^'They are silent ; silent forever ! Ould, cold, are tiieir
breasts^of clay;"

" Shades of the mighty and the brave

Who faithful to your Stuart fell ;
No trophies mark your ccnuinou grave,

No dirges to your meuiury swell,
But generous hearts will weep your fate

When far has rolled the tide of time ;
And bards ui^born will renovate

Your fading fame in loftiest rhyme."

iifj

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286

SRBTCUES AJ*D ANECDOTES.

The works descriptive of tliis rebellion are mainlj
one-sided. It would be even* manly for an enemy to
shed a tear over the braves who fell fighting against a
forlorn hope on dreary CiiUoden moor. Tliere are
except ions, liowever, to this feeling. I have before me
a work by James Ray, volunteer under his royal liigh-
ness the Du!<e of Cumberland, entitled, "A Complete
Hifilorv of the Rebellion, From its Rise in 1745 to its
Total Suppression at the Glorious Battle of Culloden, in
April, 1746."

Tins work was printed in 1758, and is now rarely to
be met with. In the extracts hereafter given the reader
will perceive how virulent he is against the Prince and
all his adherents.

In the summer of 1745 the frigate Elizabeth sailed
from Britany with the youthful Prince, accompanied
with about fifty Scotch and Irish gentlemen. They
landed at Skye, and the Prince first received a kindly
welcome to the land of his fathers by McDonald of
Kinloch Moidart. The event of his landing spread like
wild-fire through the length and breadth of the land :

" Tli(3 news frae Moidiut cani' yestrecu
Will soon gar mony t'erlie,
For ships o' war have just come iu
And landed Royal Charlie.

There's ne'er a lass in a' thu land

But vows both late and early,
To man she'll ne'er gi'e heart or hand,

Who wadna' fight for Charlie."

The Prince was soon joined by the Camerons, Mc-
Donalds ;tnd Stuarts, and on the 16th day of August
his standard was raised with the motto, "Tandems
Triumph;in8."

8KETCUK8 AVD ANECD0TK8.

2M7

mainlj
omy to
linst a
re are
'ore me
1 hlgh-
mipk'te
5 to its
xleii, itJ

ari'ly to
3 reader
nee and

til sailed
mpanied

. They
a kindly
jnald of
read like
and :

ons, Mc-
August
Tandems

In a letter date.l "Perth, lOth tSept., 1745," the
young chevalier tliiis addresses his father :

"I have ocfiision ovcrv day to retlret upon Yr M — y's last
words to iiie Uiat I would find I'ower. if it wits not accornpiuiy'd
with Justice and ClUinii'iiey, an uneasy tijitig to myself, and
griiivous to tlio;^!' uii(h;r me. It's to ye obsoivanco of tiii.s Rule
find my conforming; myriclf to yt; customs of thf.vso people, that I
ha.\c got their llcarls to a I)(;gieo not to be easily conceived by
those who do not see it.

"Then; is one thing antl biit one, in which I have had any
DitTerence with my faithful Jligldandcrs. It was about setting
a j)ricc ui)on my Kin.sman's head — which, knowing Yr Ma— 8
geaerous humanity, 1 am sure will shock you, as much as it did
me. When J was sliewn ye I^-oclamation setlitig a price on my
Head, I smil'd & treated it with ye Disdain it de.serv'd. Upon
which they licw into a most violent rage & insisted uj)on my doing
ye same by him. As this llow'd solely from yc poor men's love
and concern for me, 1 did not know how to be angry with them
tor it, and tried to bring them to Temper by representing to
them that it was a Mean Barbarous practice among Princes, that
must dishonour them in ye Eyes of all Men of Honour; that I
could not see how my Cousin's having set me ye Example, would
justitie me in imitating that which I blame so much in him: But
nothing I could say would satisfie them. Some went even so far
as to say, shall we go ami denture our Liven for a man, tolio seenu
to indifferent about preserving hin oicn? 'I'hus I have been drawn
in to do a thing for which I condemn my Self. Yr Ma — ty
knows that in my Nature I am neither cruell nor revengefull."

They crossed the Firth of Forth and the inhabitants
of Glasgow were more than astonished when over three
thousand kilted clansmen witli their bagpipes and Loch-
aber axes landed amongst them. Ray thus describes
the appearance of the Prince : " His dress was of a
Highland garb of fine silk tartan, red velvet breeches
and a blue velvet bonnet, with gold lace around it ; on
his breast a large jewel, with St. Andrew appended ;
is about six feet high, walks well and straight, and
speaks both English and broad Scotch very well, but

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238

HRETC'IIKH AND ANKCDOTKH.

■piii

ill M

hiH Italian constitution cannot stand every kind of hard-
ship.'" The Prince made a levy upon Glasgow of
£15,000 sterling, and took all the arms that be could
procure, and then with hifl army marched to Edinburgh
the metropolis of Scotland. As an illustration of ti
temper of the times an anecdote may be here intro-
duced : Two servant girls met upon a stair-head, and
the one says, ** Oh, Jenny, the Highlanders are corain',
and they are gaun to kiss a' the lasses in Edinburgh and
Leith." "Mercy me!" cried Tibby, "I maun get
mysel' ready." After they had arrived the same couple
met, when Tibbie said, " Jenny, they ha'e come ; and I
wad like to ken when the kissin' is gaun to begin ? "

The battle of Prestonpans took place very early in
the morning. Ray thus describes it : " The foot r
being supported by the horse, were surprised and throw i.
into confusion worse confounded, they firing too soon
and their bayonets not fixed. The rebels fell furiously
upon them, sword in hand, and about two hundred of
them were killed and about one thousand made pris-
oners ; and Sir John Cope fled to Dunbar and afterwards
to Berwick." His flight is thus described by Skirving
in the song '* Hey, Johnnie Cope " :

" When Johnnie Cope to Dunbar came,

They apier'd at him, ' Where's a' your men ? '

' The deil confound me gin I ken.

For 1 left them a' in the morning.'"

On the field at Prestonpans fell the brave Col. Gard-
iner, whose life, it will be remembered, was written by
Dr. Doddridge. He resided at his seat at Bankton, near
the battle-field, and I may here state that the writer of
these lines sat in the same chair where, it is said, he

SKKTrilKS AND ANKrDOTKS.

•23P

breathed his last breath. And then- to tlie hi-st of uiy
ahility T Nimir i'> my roiiipanions the sont( —

" A wet' binl iiirn' lo onr lui' door.
Hi.' warbled Hweet :ind clearly ;
And aye the o'c'rcoine o' his sun^

Was ' Wile's me for Prince Charlie.' "

The victorious army then returned to Edinburgli,
and, according to Ray, "The Pretender demanded of
the city of Kdinburgh h\\ thousand pairs of shoes, two
thousand targets and one thousand tentH, to be made
with all expedition.'" The Highlanders pillaged tlie
whole neighborhood. Regarding this the following
anecdote is amusing :

In the neighborhood of Edinburgh lived a very mor-
tified gentleman who lav every niyht in his coffin and
winding sheet. He was visited by a party of High-
landers, and seeing the coftin they concluded a
corjtse was inclosed in it, and ti at it might have a good
winding sheet. They raised the lid, whereupon the
mortified gentleman rose up, and they were struck with
such panic at his ghostly appearance that they fled with
all their might, thinking that the devil had taken pos-
session of the corpse. The (Ad gentleman observing the
situation leaped out of his coflin and followed them in
his grave clothes, and as he saw tliein tly in terror, he
grinned a ghastl}' grin, and then returned and lay down
in his winding sheet.

llie night after the battle of Prestonpans, Prince
Charles Stuart took up his (juartors at I'inkie house, an
old manor house beautifully situated near Musselburgh
on the Firth of Forth. In the reign of James VI. it was a
country mansion belonging to the Abbot of Dunfermline,
of the Seaton family. On the front of the building in

,ll"ll) ,, -*

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240

(iKKTrURS AND ANE<;DOTEf=l,

[<•' J-*

IfflU

•I

11^

Pi -

^-H'!

the followinor inscription: "Doniniis Ak'x.ander Set-
onins hann domum ('(lilicMvil, non nd Ji'iinii, Rod ad for-
tunarnm ct an-jjelli inoduiu," wliicli may be thus trans-
lated: Tjord Alexander 8et(tn built tl>is l!ou<<\ not after
the fashion of his niiud, b.it ailci- t.liat of liis fortunes
and eslale.

From " i*iiiki(^ i)i»us(', !i'.',i:- iviinltuvgli, Sej)t. 2l8t,
174.")," the. i^riiKre thus vvritt'N !<> ''llis Majt'.sty the Kinj,',
our Royal Fatlier:"

"It hiis plc;iso(! (hi.\ to iiro-,})''!- Yr Ma - ^ Anns iiiuhT ray com-
mand. Oil tlic 17tii I Cliff I'o.l ;Mlinl)urg Sword in iiaud, and got
possession of yo T')wn. '.vitiMiit our hoin.i; obli^'ed to shwl ono
Drop of Blond, or roiipiiit the li-ast Violence: And thi.s !\rorning,
I have gain'd a inosl Siirnal Victory willi little or no Io.ks,"

Farther on tl»e Princjc remarks: —

"If I had obtauied tin's Victory over Foreigners, my Joy we'd
have been compl('t^>; Bui as it's over EnglMimen, it has thrown a
Damp upon it that I little imagin(;d. The Men I have defeated,
were yr Ma — « Enemys, it is true; But they might have become
yr Friends and Dutifull S~cts wlicn fhey had got their Eyea
open'd to see ye true Int-crcst of their Country, which I come to
.save, not to destroy. Fi)r this reason 1 leave discharg'd all pub-
lick RejoicingH."

The room where the Prinec slept in still pointed out,
regarding which Ilobert Chambers reinarks: "In the
eyes of some it will bo reu'lered more or less interesting
bv that recollection."

The condition of the brave Col. Gardiner was some-
what different. Ho was preparing to sleep the sleep
that knows no waking. ITis deatli wounds are thus de.s-
cribed b}' his biographer, Dr. Doddridge. " He rode
up and cried out to his regiment, 'tire on, my lads, and
fear nothing ! ' Hut just as the w^ords were out of his
mouth a Highlander advanced toward him with a scythe

IV •''

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

241

fastened to a lon-T^ pole, and «^ave him such a deep wound
on his right arm tliat his sword dropped out of his
hand and he wa>< drnci^fi^ed from off his horse. Another
riisjldaiidcr i>ave him a stroke with a Loohaber axe on
the liinihr part of iiis iiead, which was tlie mortal blow.
Ho was })lun(h'r('d of ins watch and stripped of his n))-
per ij^arui'n'is and l)cnts, yc-t still brcalhintj^. lie was
carried from Ihe licM ;ind in the forenoon took Ids tinal
leave of pain ;ind sorr(»\v,"

On the following day the Prince returned to Holy-
rood house, an<l accoi-dino- to Kav " tliev carried tlieir
mock Prince fro^n that place to the High Cross, where
tliey ]>roclaimed his father king, and him regent, with
great formality; althougli fe\\ or none of the inhabi-
tants of any credit attended the ceremony." The next
day a proclamation was i.ssued which declared that all
were rebels, especially the clergy, if, in so many days,
tliey did not make submission to the house of Stuart.
On this account all the (Uergv deserted the citv and
divine service for the time being was suspended. An
instance however is related that the Rev. Neal McVicar
alone stood his ground and pra^'ed as usual for King
George. The Prince sent a message to warn him of
the consequence of such ])rayers; but, nothing daunted,
the ensuing Sabbath he thus lauTiched out: " O, Lord,
if it is in keeping with Thy will, bU'ss the king. Thou
knowest what king I mean. May the crown sit easy «»n
his head. But for this man that has come amongst us
to seek an earthly crown, we beseech Thee in mercy to
take him to Thystdf and give him a crown of glory."
The whole cotmtrv was in a ferment. The custom-
house at Leith was seized, the city of Glasgow was
8iiraraoned the second time to contribute €15,000 sI^m--

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242

8KBTCHE8 AND ANECDOTES.

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i
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ling and a demand was made that all landlords of houses
in Edinburgh be compelled to pay "half a crown in the
pound." Those who had flung up their hats for the
Prince, now when he touched their pockets, changed
their minds and began to hope with the minister above
mentioned that the Lord would " give him a crown of
glory." The following illustrates this state of feeling:
One Mr. William Barclay was requested to pay this tax,
which he refused. The reason for non-payment was
demanded when he replied " that he had ten guid rea-
sons — he had nine bairns and one wife to support." An
anecdote is also told of one called Mr. Thomas Erskine
" an eminent brewer and preacher among the people
called the Quakers." Some of the Prince's adherents
one night broke into his house and robbed him of all his
"money and linen." The Quaker applied to the Prince
for redress and assured him " that the method he pur-
sued would never prosper, for our King George take.**
only a part of our money, but thou, even verily thou,
takes all, and thee may'st as well take away my life as
take away the prop that supports it." The answer
given by the Prince was "that he, Mr. ?2rskine, was
many years in debt to the revenue of his father's excise,
and that the money taken was properly due to hi."
government."

Disturbances between the Highlanders and the Low-
landers were a daily and nightly occurrence, and even
members of the respective clans, at the slightest provo-
cation, would furiously fight with one another. On one
occasion a Campbell atiinned that his race was much
older than the Gordons and could prove it by the Bible,
and referred to Solomon, in all his glory, who he said
" had a thousand Caramils " — that beirig the pronunci-

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

24»

atiofi of Campbell in Scotch — whereupon dirks were
drawn, blood was spilled and Solomon's glory estab-
lished.

Although the magistrates did their best, the majesty
of the law was with difficulty enforced or vindicated,
as the following anecdotes will show:

A magistrate was one day attempting to deal out
justice when his sister, for some cause, was brought be-
fore him, whereupon he put to her the following ques-
tions: " Woman, what is thy name ? what is thy age ?
and where is your usual place of residence ? " The lady
thinking he had gone mad, held up her hands and ex-
claimed : ' " Dear me, Andrew, do ye no ken yere aiu
sister ? " To which he answered : " Woman ! when I
sit in this court lo administer justice; I know no one —
neither father nor mother; sister nor brother." To this
she immediately replied: "I think, Andrew, ye may
safely add that ye dinna ken yere ain sel'." This an-
swer created a great laugh, and as the raai»istrate was
about to pass sentence some of her Jacobite friends
seized hold of her and carried her shoulder-high out of
the court-house, locked the magistrate in, ind Hung the
key of the court-room into the North loch. To turther
iUnstrate the looseness of the times, one of the Prince's
followers was fined two shillings and sixpence for get-
ting drunk. Next day he was again brought up, when
he put the following question to the magistrate: " I wad
like to ken if it is Scotch law to sentence a man twice
for ae offence; for ye maun ken its just the same dukl
drunk.'''' To which the magistrate replied: *' V^Mnay
go; I will only bring trouble on myself for attempting
to enforce the law; but you may be thankful that ye do
not live in the days of my fathers, for they would have

344

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

, I ■ I

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haiii^ed you first and tried you afterwards." Brawls and

broadsword encounters wore the order of the niglit, and

in the siiburbs of the city duels were so frequent during

tlu' (lay that they created little or no attention. The

only individual upon record who refused to fight was

Mr. Skirving, an East Lothian fanner and the author of

the song, " Hey, Johnnie Cope." He wrote another song

on llie battle of Prestonpans, from which the following

is t;iken:

"And Major Bowie, that worthy soul.

Was brought down to tliu ground, luau;
His horse being shot it was his lot
For to get numy a wound, man.

Lieutenant Smith, of Irish bivtli,

Fraewhom he called for aid, man,
Being full of dread, lap o'er his head.

And wadna be gainsay'd, man.

He made sic haste, sae spurred his baiet

'Twas little there he saw, man,
To Berwick rade; and falsely said,

The Scots were rebels a', man,"

As it will be observed that Smith was in Cope's
army, and for this poetic attack he sent a challenge to
Skirving, on receiving which he said to the messenger:
*' Gang awa back and tell Mr. Smith that I hae nae
leisure to come to Haddington; but tell him to come
liere, and I'll tak' a look o' him, and if I think I'm fit to
fecht him, I'll fecht him, and if no, I'll do as he did —
/'// rin aucay

During these occurrences the Prince's headquarters
was at Dalkeith palace, near Edinburgh, where he was
laying his plans and projects to invade England.

There resided in Perth an innkeeper of the name of
Hixton, and he solemnly swore " by the light of the
moon and the green leaf on the tree," that he would

SKETCHES AKD ANECDOTES.

24fi

nme of
of the
would

put an end to his existence if Prince Charles Stuart
failed to regain the crown of his fathers. He was a man
gifted with plausable manners and keen penetration, lie
obtained an audience with the Prince, and soon became
one of the leading spirits of the Jacobite rebellion. For
the purpose of rousing the northern counties of England,
and inducing thera to espouse the Stewart cause, the
Prince requested Hixton to attire himself as a gaberlun-
zie or mendicant, and make his way to Newcastle-upon-
Tyne. Glad of an opportunity to advance the cause,
Hixton immediately set out on his journey. On the 6th
of October he reached that place, where, from some sus-
picions, the authorities arrested him for a spy. He was
examined and searched, and in the linger of one of hib
gloves was found the following document, which I
give entire, as it throws considerable light upon the
state of the country and the designs of the Prince. On
its discovery Hixton imagined that the Jacobite cause
was forever lost. He took a knife out of his pocket and
deliberately cut his throat from ear to ear:

" You are hereby authorized and directed to repair to England,
and there to certify to mj'^ friends, and particularly those in the
northwest of the wonderful success with which it has pleased
God to favor my endeavors for their deliverance; you are hereby
to let thera know that 'lis my full intention, in a few days, to
move forward to them,, and they will be inexcusable before God
and man if they do not do all in their power to assist and sup-
port me in such an undertaking. What I depend upon jind <'x-
pect is, that as many of them as can should take care to provide
provisions and money, that the country may suffer as little as
possible by the march of my troops. Let thetn know there is no
more time for deliberation. Now or never, is the word. I am
resolved to conquer or perish in the attempt. If the last should
happen let them consider what they and their posterity have to
expect."

Signed. CifAKLES, P. U.

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SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

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The victory that the Prii)ce achieved at Preston-
pans added greatly to the entliusiasra of his followers,
and a number of clans that ha<l remained lukewarm
and refused to rally, now Joined his forces. He made
a feeble eflFort to take Edinburgh castle, but seeing that
task would be dittictilt to accomplish, and being advised
by Lord George Murray, Lord Elcho, the Earl of Kil-
marnock and others that delays were dang-erous, he re-
solved to immediately invade England. On the first
of November he sent off his baggage and ammunition,
which was followed by the whole army in three columns.
One of the columns reached Kelso, a town in the bonnie
border land, where the following strange occurrence is
said to have taken place:

There was a dealer in snuff in Edinburgh who had
grown rich and set up a coach. On this coach he
caused to be painted his coat of arms and underneath
were these words:

" Wlio could have thought it
Nose could have bought it."

He also had the wooden figure of a negro standing
at his shop door. At this shop Niel McSween fre-
quently purchased snuft', and on leaving the shop he
took great delight in kicking the wooden negro into the
street. On reaching Kelso, Neil's nose required to be
primed, and for this purpose he went into a tobacco
store. He had never seen a live negro in his born days
and on coming out one happened to be standing at the
door, and without warning and in a moment he knocked
him heels over head. When the negro regained his feet
Neil's hair stood on end, and he cried out " Mercy me !
I thoui^ht ye was made of wood ! "

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

247

fre-
he

the

o be

»acco

lays

the
iked

feet
rae !

As it was uow, whatsis termed in Scotland the " back-
end " or fall of the year, considerable sickness prevailed
nmongst the Highlanders. Jenny Fairbairn, a garru-
lous Lowland cottager, thus describes the death scene
of a young Highlander —

" Some die in their beds and some out of them, some
are shot dead, some stickit, some have their throats cut
and some are hanged. There are early deaths as well
as early marriages, but there are likewise happy deaths,
<and Oh ! the braw and bonnie Highland laddie died an
unco happy death. He cam' into ma house and I told
him to sit doon aside the fire. It was early in the
mornin' and I was e'en takin' ray breakfast. He sat
<Ioon and I handed him a plate fu' o' parritch, and he
began to sup, and when I thought he was about done,
I said to him, "my bonnie laddie, will you tak' a drink
o' milk ? " but he never spoke, and when I turned my
head to see what was the matter wi' him, there he was
sittin' stiff dead, puir lad, wi' the parritch plate atween
his knees. Eh ! but his death was a happy death ! "

Another anecdote maybe here introduced. The lads
and lassies o' Kelso are frequently in the habit of dano-
ing. On one occasion a Highland piper was hired to
]>lay the bagpipes. "Man," said an Englishman to him,
*' ye are a grand player; do ye play by the ear ? " "By
the year I " he replied in astotiishment; " na, na, I only
play by the night."

Ireland, at this period, was in a great state of dis-
content — many of her sons strongly favored the cause
of the Pretender. When any trouble arises in any part
of the world, America, England or Scotland, for oxain-
j)le, people outside of these leave them alone to settle
their own affairs; but when trouble arises in Ireland,

»;

24b

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

' .ill'.

J ■ :?

she is deluged with advice from all quarters of the hab-
itable globe. Even her own sons are eternally advising
her. On account of these advices, past and present,
one is inclined to wonder that the condition of Ireland
is not much worse than it really is. In 1745 the cry
was, " Ireland and Scotland against England." Some
people advised Ireland one way and some another. Dean
Swift in his celebrated " Draper's Letters " thus adnion-
isbed the people: " I have many reasons to believe tl^at
there are not a few among you, who secretly rejoice
at the rebellion that is now raised in Scotland; and
perhaps conceive hopes of some alteration for the
better in their circumstances and condition, if it
ghould succeed. It is possible that among the lords
and esquires, one perhaps among a hundred would get
something by a chance. On the other hand, if the poor
laborer when all is over is to be a laborer still, I can not
find why he should fancy it worth his while to venture
a leg or an arm, and the gallows, too, into the bargain,
to be just where he set out. If he must dig and delve,
when the Pretender is settled on the throne, he had as
good stick to it now for any difference I can see. If a
farmer must pay his rent I see no reason that he should
be much concerned whether he pays it to one man or
to another. * * * Tliere is not a more foolish trade
than fighting for nothing, and I hope my good country-
men will be too wise to be persuaded into it. Fine
speeches and fair promises will not be wanting to delude
them, but let them remember the warning I no'y give,
that when all is over, the very best that can befall them
is to have their labor for their pains. * * * It well
deserves your thought whether it is worth your while to
beggar yourselves and families that the man's name

BKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

249

Upon the throne be James instead of George ; you will
probably see neither of them while you live, nor be one
penny the richer for one or for the other."

It is somewhat strange that the people in England
were indifferent whether Prince Charles would be
successful or otherwise. It has even been affirmed by
some that if he and his army had gone into London at
the one side, King George was ready to go out at the
other.

On the 9th of November the respective columns of
the Highland Army were united some little distance
from Carlisle. Two thousand of them crossed the Esk
at Longtown, and in their passage nothing was seen but
their heads. On reaching land tlie pipers blew their
pi[)es and they danced reels till they were all dry again.
Tie Prince entered Carlisle preceded b}' a hundred
pipers, their pipes going at full blast. This circumstance
is celebrated in the following lyric which no one, if he
values his life, dare sing within from ten to twenty
miles from Carlisle :

Wi' a Imiulred pipers an' a', an' a',
Wi* a hun(h'ed pipers an' a', an' a',
We'll up and gie them a l)la\v, a blaw,
Wi' a hundred pipers an' a', an' a',
Oh, it's ower the border, a \va', a wa'.
It's ower the border, a wa,' a wa',
We'll on an' we'll inarch to Carlisle ha',
Wi' its yctts, its castles, an' a', an' a',

Wi' a hundred pipers an' a', an' a',

Wi' a hundred pipers an' a', an' a'.

We'll up an' gie them a blaw, a blaw,

Wi' a hundred pipers an' a', an' a'.

Oh I our sodger lads look'd braw, look'd braw,
AVi" their tartans, kilt an' a', an' a',
AVi' their bonnets an' feathers, an' glitlerin' gear,
An' pibrochs sounding; loud and clear,
17

&■

3-50

SKETCHES AXI) AXK<,DOTE«.

ii;

Will they u" n-lurn to tlioir ain dour glen ?
Will tliey a' return, our Ilir^hiand men ?
Sceond-sightcd Sandy looked fii' wae,
And mithers grat when tliey niarclied away.
Wi' a hundred pipers, ete.

Oh I wha is foremost o' a', o' a'?
Oh I wha is foremost o' a', o' a'?
Bonnie Charlie, the king o' us a', hurrah !
Wi' his hundred pipers an' a', an' a'.
His bonnet an' feather he's vvavin' high,
His prancing steed maist seems to lly ;
The nor' wind plays wi' his curly hair,
While the pipers blaw wi' an unco Hare !
Wi' a hundred pipers, etc.

The Esk was swollen .'^ue rod an' sae det;p ;
But shouther to .shouthcr the l)rave huN keep ;
Twa thousand swam ower to fell English ground,
An' danced themselves dry to the pibroch's sound.
Dumfounder'd, the English they .saw, they saw,
Dumfounder'd, they heard the blaw, the blaw ;
Dumfounder'd, they a' ran awa', awa',
Frae the hundred pipers an' a', an' a'.

Wi' a hundred pipers, etc.

When the Pretender and his army occupied Carlisle,
Marshal Wade with his opposing force of raw militia
lay inactive at Newcastle. At length, on the 17th day
of November, he mustered uj) courage to order his army
to advance to the relief of Carlisle. He reached Hexham
about 4 o'clock in the afternoon, but his rear guard did
iiot arrive till about midnight. Here the gallant soldier
found out that Carlisle ha<l surrendered. So, when his
I'ear guard came up, his vanguard had commenced to
inarch back again to Newcastle. The weather was raw
and coW, and the roads were in bad order, and when
his beautiful army, according to Ray, reached Newcas-
tle, "they vvere exceedingly fatigued," but their <'ondi-
tion would have been much worse "had it not been for

8KKTCIIKS AND ANECDOTKfl.

361

rUsle,
militia
|th day
army
lexham
ird did
ioldier
lien his
ped to
las raw
when
w<^a8-
Icondl-
en for

the peculiar care taken of them hy the people of New-
castle."

The Pretender, with his hardy band of Highlanders,
cared for neither wind nor weather. He garrisoned
Carlisle, and with an army wliose strength reached seven
thousand fijjhtinff men, marched forward bv Penrith to
Kendal. The Prince entered that town in the evening,
having walked the whole distance on foot in front of his
army. Here, according to Ray, " they plundered the
country in a most shameful manner." Yet, in justice
to the Prince, even his enemies agree that he did
Ilia best to restrain his followers from pillaging and
plundering the inhabitants. Notwithstanding, it was
the old story over again, and will prove the force of
the proverb, that " auld sparrows are ill to tame," for —

" Rob McGregor's come again,
Rob McGregor's come again,
Highland blood and Highland bane,
Rob McGregor's come again."

They not only did this, but from their gallant
appearance they stole the hearts and turned the heads of
nearly all the young lasses in the district. The follow-
ing parental advice was given to one of these : " Betsy,
my dear, if ye desire happiness in this world, and that
which is to come, get married to somebody of your own
rtesh and blood ; but, for the sake of your country and
vour immortal soul, never marrv a Hiffhland soldier.
For as sure as guns are made of iron, he will dance a jig
on the gallows, or my name is not John Trotter. A
soldier! I would sooner see ye marry a gypsy, a tinker,
a horner or a beggar. A soldier from the far otf Highlands
of Scotland ! Betsy, my dear, banish him from your
thoughts, wash him from your mind, and wring him
like a dish-cloth from out your heart. What a fool he

252

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

s^H

|:: A !pi

must be to stand up to he shot at for sixpence a day,
Sundav included." But to show " that love will ven-
ture in where it daurna' weel be seen," Betsy lilted up :

" He's coming frae the north that's to fancy me ;
He's coming frae the north that's to marry me ;
A feather in his bonnet, a ribbon at his knee,
He's a bonnie, bonnie laddie, an' yon be he."

Innumerable anecdotes are told regarding the
Highland occupation of the northern counties of
England.

A gentleman in Kendall possessed a telescope of con-
siderable power, and a Jacobite shoemaker from Selkirk
was permitted to have a peep at the moon. He gazed
at it with wonder, and then raised his head to wipe his
eyes. During this interval the end of the telescope
noiselessly slid down, and instead of pointing to the
heavens it pointed to a public house on the side of a
hill. He again looked, and his eye fell upon the sign-
board, " London Porter Sold Here." " London porter in
the moon ! " he yelled with astonishment. " Hoo in
a' the world did it get up there ? "

There is no denying the fact that a Highland Scotch-
man makes one of the best soldiers the world over.
Even Ray, their bitter enemy, gives them this credit,
though he sneeringly remarks " that they were car
al)0ut their victuals, and not very curion^' a'"-
goodness of it; and as to lodging, if a liti .raw 'i
provided to lie upon, they were entirely eas^ '

On the 26th the Highland army entered Lane, ter,
but there they only stayed long enough to eat some
bread and cheese, while standing in the streets. On the
2sth the army reached Wigan, and on the same day
Ray very curiously remarks that " Manchester was taken

SKKTCUKS AND ANECDOTES.

2oJ

by a sergeant, a rlrum, and a woman. About 2 oVlork in
the afternoon, they rode up to the Bull's-hoad on horses,
where they dined. After dinner the woman and the
man beat the drum for reeruitH, and in less than an
hour listed about 30, some of desperate fortunes, lowest
rank and vilest principles." On the same day the Pre-
tender entered Manchester, preceded by his hundrccl
])ipers, and no doubt their appearance in full IIighlan«l
costume and the blasts from their pipes filled the minds
of the Manchester people with wonder and astonish-
ment. The following anecdote well illustrates the in-
fluence that bagpipe music holds over the hum;in
mind: "Some of the dulcet notes saluted tiie ear, f<»r
the first time, of an old bed-ridden Manchester ladv.
She rose up and exclaimed: " Hark ! that is not earthly
music; that is music from heaven, calling me to the
bosom of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob ! Elizabeth, hr'mrf
up the cold roast beef! on saying wiiich she fell back and
immediately expired."

The Prince m.ade a levy on Manchester of £2,500,
which was promised to be repaid as soon as his govern-
ment was established.

The Highlanders remained in Manchester till the
10th of the month, and here trouble began to surround
the Prince on every side. The cry was not, as formerly,
" On to London," but the thought was how to get back
again with safety to Scotland. Dissensions arose
amongst the leaders. The Duke of Cumberland w,a8
advancing with a strong army to oppose the Prince on
the one side, and Marshal Wade had mustered up cour-
age to attack him on the other. The Highland army
was now ordered to retreat. The following verses are
supposed to be sung by a disconsolate Scotch female :

F'l>„

254

8KBTCHS6 AND ANECDOTES.

f 'i-M

" When I lir>.t cam' to merry Carlisle,
Ne'er was a town so sweetly seeming,
The white rose flaunted o'er the wall.
The thistle banners far were streamin' !

When I cam' next to merry Carlisle,
O, sad, sad, seemed the town and eerie.

The aiild, auld men cam' out and wept —
'■ O, maiden come ye to seek yere dearie ? ",

There's a drap o' bluid upon my breast,
And twa on my links o' hair sae yellow;

The ane I'll ne'(!r wash and the tither ne'er karae.
But I'll sit and pray ancatli the willow.

Wae, wae upon the cruel heart,
Wae, wae upon that hand sae bludie,

Which feasts in our richest Scottish bluid,
And makes sae mony a doleful widow."

Carlisle was retaken by the king's forces. A skir-
mish or two took place between the two armies, and, on
the 20th of December, the Highlanders recrossed the
Esk, and on the 25th they again took possession of
Glasgow. On the 3d of Januarj-^, 1V46, they marched
out of Glasgow and took possession of Stirling, and de-
manded Gen. Blakeney to surrender the castle, but his
answer was, " that he would defend the place to the last
extremity; for as he had lived, so he was determined to
die — a man of honor." Stirling, it will be remembered^
is in the immediate vicinity of Bannockburn, where King
Robert Bruce so signally defeated the English army,
which recalls the following anecdote: An old Scotch
lady was pointing out to a party of English tourists the
battle-field and the method of that great battle. At
the conclusion of this they tendered her some money.
Her answer was as good as ever fell from the lips of a
Grecian matron. She said, " Put up yere siller, ye ha'e
paid dear enough for it already."

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

255

For several <lay.s the Pretender and his array dilly-
dallied in the nelghborliood of Stirlin<r, and made sev-
eral vain attempts to take that castle. Stirling castle
much resembles Edinburgh castle, botli being built on
inaccessible rocks, and the Prince found that his cannon
balls made no impression on that stronghold.

On the 17th of January, 1746, the memorable battle
of Falkirk took place. Uen. Ilawley, of the king's
forces, had followed cautiously in the rear of the Jacob-
ite army and took up a position on Falkirk moor. The
Highlanders, with their usual dash and intrejadity, at-
tacked him with the most determined braverv. Thev
were admonished to reserve their fire until the enemv
was within musket shot. Ilawley's cavalry advanced
and broke the Highland lines, and trampled the High-
landers under the feet of their horses. A singular combat
immediately followed. Those Highlanders who were
thrown down thrust their dirks into the bellies of the
horses. Some grabbed the riders and dragged them
down, giving them no quarter, but <lispatching them
upon the spot. The Highlanders did not neglect their ad-
vantage, but pursued them with their swords; and it is
said that on account of the 1>roken ground, they were so
fleet of foot that they even out-ran the horses. The cav-
alry was then thrown into confusion, and they in their
turn threw the infantry into confusion worse confounded.
A severe storm of thunder, lightning, wind and rain at
this time took place, and Ilawley and his army Hew in
the greatest terror and disorder along the great road
which leads to E.linburgh. The Highlanders did not
know that they had gained so great a victory, for,
as they advanced, expecting to find the enemy, they

256

SKETCHES AXD AXECDOTPJS.

(

exclaimed in Gaelic; " Where's the men ? Where the

devil have they gone ?"

"But tried they up or tried they down,
There was no foe in Falkirk town,
Nor yet in a' the country roun'
To break a sword at a', man.

They were sae bauld at bre.ik o' day,
When tow'rd the west tliey tocjk their way,
But tlie Higlilandmen came down the brae,
And made the dogs to blaw, man."

When the news of the defeat of the king's forces
reached London, according to Ray, " it made it necessary
to provide for the immediate extinction of so dangerous
a flame." The Duke of Cumberland was empowered
"to extinguish all animosities and to restore the spirit
of the soldiers." It was decided that tlie Duke should
immediately proceed to Scotland. A number of His-
sian troops, under IJritish pay, were lying in the neigh-
borhood of Antwerp, and they were forthwith ordered
to embark for Scotland On the 30th the Duke
of Cumberland arrived in Edinburgh, and to again
quote Ray, "He was received with all the testimonies
of loyalty and affection that could possibly be ex-
pressed." The i)oets who favored the Hanoverian line
now began to sing:

ClaymorcK long adieu, now j'our edge is unsteel'd;
Ye Canierons, no more you such weapons must wield;
The Duke says the word, and the clans are undone;
When your mountains down tumble every soul of you's

gone.
Then farewell McPhersons, M'Flegs, and .McPhuus,
McDonalds, Mcr)rummonds, McDevils, McDuns,
McDolands, MtWades, and your sons of a gun,
McGeorges, ]\IcCharlies, McRumps and McHuns,

The Duke of Cumberland reviewed his troops at
Linlithgow, and on the '2d February he entered Stirling.

SKETCHES AND AXECDOTES.

257

here the

's forces
leeessaiy
mgeroiis
powered
le spiiit
} should

of Ht-s-
B neigli-
ordered
3 Duke
o again
timonies

be ex-
ian line

ield;

of you's

IS,

)0|).s at
Itirling.

Regarding this, Ray remarks: "On tliat memorable
occasion he received the compliments of General Blak-
eney and the officers of his garrison."

The victory they achieved at Falkirk added no suc-
cess to the Jacobite cause. A retreat was ordered.
They crossed the bridge of Tay, and the Prince estab-
lished his headquarters at Perth, on the borders of the
Highland hills. On the 3d that city was evacuated, and
on the 4th the advanced guard of the king's armv took
possession. The Prince's cause now became desperate,
and his only safety was to retreat to the mountains and
endeavor in almost inaccessible ground to turn the tide
of the approaching ruin and disaster. On the 16th the
Duke of Cumberland marched from Nairn and found the
Jacobites prepared for battle upon Culloden's dreary
moor. Lord Bury advanced within a hundred yards
where the outposts of the Pretender's army were sta-
tioned. Bligh and Semple's men opened fire; the High-
landers returned the fire, then threw away their mus-
kets, and with fearless bravery attacked* the enemv,
sword in hand. The battle raged keen and bloody,'
but the odds were so great that the Pretender was forcJd
to fly, followed by the Clans in the utmost disorder.
Five hundred were killed in the pursuit and a great
number of oflicers and men were taken prisoners, wl;ile
the killed and wounded of the king's troops barely
reached 300. Those of the Highlanders who had es-
caped fled in all directions,andhid themselves in dens and
in caves, where the Duke of Cumberland and his hii-erl
Hessians followed, and without a pang of compunction
slaughtered many of them in cold blood, and to this day
the very name of Cumberland stinks in the nostrils of
all true Scotchmen. The poor Prince, now shorn of all

r * ''-^i 1

: :v 1

CV0*

258

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

luH hopes, wandered from hiding place to hiding place
ill disguise. A high price was set upon liis head, but,
to the credit of the Highlanders be it spoken, not one
out of the many who knew his \vliereabouts was found
base enough to betray him. Regarding this, a noble
instancf of fidelity to the Prince is related. A gentle-
man of the name of McKenzie much resembled the
l*rinc(', and in a lonely cabin he was keeping watch
while the Prince was asleep. They were surrounded by
the king's troops. He awoke the Prince and informed
him oi this circumstance, and he said: "Then we must
die like brave men, with swords in our hands." "No,
m}' Prince," replied McKenzie, " I will take your name
and face one of these detachments. I know what ray
fate will be; but whilst I keep it employed your royal
highness M'ill have time to escape." McKenzie darted
forward with fury, sword in hand, against a detachment
of 50 men; he fell covered with wounds, and he ex-
claimed: "You know not what you have done. I am
your Prince whom vou have killed." They cut off his
luad and carried it to the Duke of Cumberland, and the
bloody Duke, believing that he had obtained the head of
the Prince, set off next d^y for London with McKenzie's
head packed up in his post-chaise.

In a lonely cave on this cold, barren shore the
Prince was for man\ lays secreted; and to this day when
the Highland boatmen pass the place they take their bon-
nets off their heads and chant the Avell-known Jacobite
song: " Wae's me for Prince Charlie." A purer and
more unselfish love was never found than the love of
Flora McDonald for the unfortunate Pretender. In the
annals descriptive of woman's love, faith and fortitude,
her name will never die. Her life was bright and pure

ing place
ead, but,

not one
as found
, a noble
V gentle-
bled the
ig watch
Linded by
informed
we must
" "No,
)ur name
vhat my
ur rovai
e darted
acbment
1 he ex-
!. I am
. off his
and the

head of
Kenzie's

ore the
ly when
leir bon-
(^acobite
rer and
love of
In the
rtitude,
i<l pure

SKBTCHBS AND ANECD0TK8. 2")9

aH the noonday sun, and she died leaving none more
noble on life's scene. Would I could say the same of
the Pretender. His after-life, after he eseape<l from
Scotland, was not what it ough* to have been. I could
Bay much regarding this; but it is better to throw the
mantle of charity over his faults and failings. He died
at Florence in the year 1788.

THE BURNIN' O' THE BREEKS.
(Inscribed to Dii. A. Frasek, Ypsilunti. Mich.]

Mj muse, come weave a liamely balhul
Aboot the Shepherd o' Killpallet,
And eke aboot his auld guidwife,
Whom he had wed in early life;
To SDuffln' he was predilected,
His wife to smoking was addicted.
If there's one pleasing sight in life
It is to see a sonsy wife,
Pu* cosy sitting by the fire,
Weaving the thread around tlic wire,
Wi' face lit up wi' ]mre delight.
Blawin' the reek wi' a' her might,
And liltin' sweet an auld Scotch ditty
Atween the luntin' o" her cutty !
And furthermore 'tis joy complete
To see twa ancient siuners meet, '
And lean their backs against the wa'
And crack till they are like to fa'
'Bout wives and men and sheep and foxes,
And kindly interchange snulT-boxes.
Quid folks. I charge ye all to mind this—
That snuff's the milk o' human kindness '
But here, off-hand, I now relate
His name was SnulHng E)avid Tait;
The prefix given arose nae doot
From his great love o' Lundyfoot.
His middle name when he was heezed
Up pulpit stairs to be bapteezed,
The third was handed doon through ages
By Tails wha'll never read these pages.

TT^^"

It" :■.- ■■Il .

260

SKETCHES AXD ANECDOTES.

I-

HMO

Now Talt had been at school and colloge,

And sac l)is head was panged wi' knowledge,

But poverty did round him creep,

Sac he began a-herding sheep.

His wife was e'en a curious woman

She had great dread o' evils comin',

She'd grane and gnmt and t'ulE and blavv

Aboot the day she never saw,

And no like some I ha'e in view.

Gentle and kind the hale year through —

Wha's minds are balanced to a hair,

And who can do, and nobly dare.

To scour the pans and cleanse the cogs

And kick aboot the cats and dogs;

Lookin' as tosh-like on the Monday

As some wives look upon the Sunday !

Her father was a hand-loom weaver !
He was a staunch and strong believer
In Daniel and the Revelation,
Josephus and the Jewish nation.
He'd rave till he was white's a cloot
'Bout things that he kent nought aboot;
Losh ! when he grasp 'd the points o" faith
Tail's future wife would draw her breath
And flee wi' terror 'neath the loom.
In case she'd hear the crack o' doom,
Or that the fiends would come belyeve
To roast and burn her up alive !
Her youthful terrors, when we view them,
We wonder how she warsled through them,
We wonder how a man sae hazy
Had failed to ding wee Xaucy crazy !
This ranting man, this hand-loom weaver,
How he denounced the unbeliever.
By dint o' Calvin's erudition
He soon consigned them to perdition;
But 'midst his ravings ne'er neglected
To point out that he was elected !

His daughter's name was I^ancy Waite,
But it was changed to Xancy Talt:
When frae her mither she was riven
And to the kirk awa was driven;

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

261

Now raonie a year awa' has fled

Since Nancy Waite was won and wed;

Twice twenty years liae run their tack

Since wi' this wife I had a cracii;

A'.' diy whan showers cam' lielter-skelter,

And to her house I ran for shelter,

'Twas then, I trow, she spoke emphatic

'Bout spells and charms and words prophetic,

Her mind, I learned, was filled and fed on

Wi' visions o' the Armageddon ;

She spoke about the Greeks and Romans,

'Bout evil eyes and evil omens,

And tauld me that the Goths and Vandals

Saw mort-cloths in their lighted candles;

She stated that a cross was seen

Up in the sky near Aberdeen,

When bauld St. Andrew wi' a host

Was wand'ring round the Scottish coast;

And if she heard a piet chatter

Her heart would bound and leap and flutter,

And if a hare should cross her track.

She'd wring her hands and turn back,

And trow it was a revelation

Of some tremendous tribulation.

Wi' this she turned up her eyes

And raved 'bout Peden's Propliecies ;

Guid faith ! she nearly cracked my croon,

'Bout Rhymer Tarn o' Ereildoon.

She 3'elled, "Betide, whate'er betide,

They'll aye be Haigs in Bemerside,"

And how his words were all fuldlled

When Alexander III. was killed ;

And that the hoi3es on the brae

Their girths would gnaw their sides in tway.

How Michael Sc(.tt, wi' warlick skill,

Did cleave in twain the Eildon liill,

And kindred topics without stint

Which I refrain to put in print.

Her faults were great and very grievous ;
To reason's voice she was oblivious ;
Yet this I say in her defense,
Aiose from lack of common sense,

'2Q2

Hi j-^i^i-'.i

it' ill 1m

l^'ili

SKETCHES ANr> AXECDOTEft.

And from the superstitious fire
Of words from her dehided sire ;
From youth to age, in part or wI»ole,
These words were graven on her soul ;
E'en liiie the Ivy round the tomb
That nurtures an eternal gloom.

Tiiit was a man of sober mind,
And to his wife was byous kind,
Although her faults he sair lamented,
Yet still he wasna' discontented ;
He tiung aside his carking care
And strove to bear and to forbear.
Her faults he could noways uproot them,
So he thought less and less al)oot them.
His mind was nowi.se framed like Nancy's,
He courted facts and scowled at fancies ;
All kinds of cant he would deride,
The light of reason was his guide.

My muse, why tarry on the wing ?
Come thou with zealous unction sing —
How on a bonnie morn in May,
Unto the hill Tait took his way.
Now, let it here be understood
All uaiure was in glorious mood ;
Tuc dew on heather-bells were hingin',
The lav'rocks in the lift were singin",
But what 'bove a' was most surprising,
The sun 'yont Lnnimer-law was rising,
O'er these and thunder-blasts uproarious,
The god of day was now victorious.
For days by- past, I am assured,
His golden face had been obscured ;
Clouds at ilk ither had been lashing,
In torrents rain had down been dashing ;
Down the hill-.side streams had been sweeping,
And brush and brake w^ere bent wi' weeping ;
The birds had been in waefu' plight,
In holes had chittered day and night,
And sheep, uae doubt, in bielded places.
Saw misery in ilk ither's faces.

Tait looked the picture o' dejection,
SnufiE brought him then nae .satisfaction,

SKETCHES AND AXECDOTES.

263

Yea, further, e'en his very collio
Seemed dozorl and drenched wi' melancholy,
But now the midge and fly were festive,
In consequence the sheep were restive ;
They formed instinctive an a]Ii,iiic(t
And set Tait's collie at defiance :
For ano(i poor Tait his temper lost it,
In wrath flic slieep he thus accosted :
" Ye wretches, fain I'd shear your fleeces,
And hew ye in ti.'ii thousand pie(;es ;
Wi' Joy my baiuiet I'd he swingin'
If by the heels I saw ye hingiu'.
Ye black-faced brutes, ye needna stare,
This day y(.''vc filled me with despair ;
Losh, mercy me ! wi' might and main,
They're off ; the brutes are off again !
Sic sheep, I truly do opine,
Are fifty times far worse than swine !
This thought stands tapmost in my thoughts,
I'd sooner herd a gang o' goats ;
It's my belief sheep are symbolical
Of all that's base and diabolical ;
Some senseless folk ha'e written books
'Bout sheep and lambs and shepherd's crooks,
If they had sic a flock as I
They wadna' rouse them up sac liigh ;
I'd wad my mull filled fu o' sneeshin'.
They'd soon consign them to perdition."

The glomin' came; how calm and still
The shadows gather'd on the hill,
Tait bade a short farewell to care,
The midge no longer tilled the air,
His flock lay snoosing on the l)rae,
And hameward now he took his way.
But grief and joy will come and go
So long as mortals dwell below.
The Fastney burn, he fried to jump it,
He missed his tit and in lie phnnpit;
Oh, wae betide the Fastney water.
How Tait did splash and choke and swatter,
He gained the bank, hut 'mang the rock-,
He lost his friend, his auld snuff-box I

M^\''[

(■

II ■

^^•i

fit

1,1- :j';r

li,

204

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

His heels went up, his liead <lowii linockit,
And it phiycd wallop out his pocket;
lie felt his pouch, he guve a groan,
"My comforter." he cried " is gone;"
As grief within his brain was wliirlin',
His bonnet down the stream was birlin' —
Sweeping away with edient motion
To sail aboot the German Ocean,
Though fast it went, the thought came fleeter
'Bove box or bonnet life is sweeter.
His dog stood watching the disaster,
It looked wi' pity on its master,
And when upon dry land it found him,
Wi' joy it leap'd and gamb(d'd 'round him.
Ance mair for haine Tait took a start,
Just dripping like a water-cart;
Wi' shorkin' feet, when near his door,
Xancy cam' out wi' a great roar,
And cried, " Guid, ha'e a care o' me.
Oh, what on earth is that I see V
Oh, dear ! oh, dear ! I'll gi'e my aith,
It is u great big water wraith
A-comin' here to burke and clour me,
And then in turn to devour me."
To live is the first law o' life;
She seized a hedious gully-knife,
With firm foot and hand she stood
In this defensive attitude,
Without a groan, a tear, or sneevil
Prepared to kill hog, dog or deevil;
But Tait cried, " Nancy, what's the matter ?
It's me; 1 fell in Fastney water,"
She cried, " Oh, dear, I do declare,
I've seen your wraitii this mcjnth or mair;
Your fate's set forth in words precise
111 Mr. Peden's Prophecies ! "
Tait cried, " Oh, Nancy, stop your din,
Aud to the house let me gang in.
And with all speed, I do insist,
Ye'll bring dry cleedin' out the kist.
When Tait got dried and clothed and fed,
He said, "I think I'll gang to bed

MKKTCIIKS AM) ANKCDOTKS.

And, Nancy, up upon fhc cIccIvh

Hf sure aii() hang my nu.Ie-ski,, hn-rk^.."

Next morn Tait rose with littlf ,li„
And left his wilV the bed within ;
As darkness ni the house prevailed,
To Hud Jiis hreeks he fairly fiii|,.,| '

"%l..eeksrheeried;"Ie:uu..;getthem,
N.'incy, -unlwife. wh.'r.. did ye pit them •> "
Quo' she, '•[soon will tell vo that
'Ihey'ro o'er the fire in the kail-pat''
Ye'll find tliem just as dry's a hone,
And unco pleasant to pull on."
He raised the lid, put in his hand
And statue-like lie took his stand •
He stood spell-bouml. ama/ed. siirprise.l
His tlirone o' reason was capsized

His wits cam' back, and o'er his shouther
Nancy 'he cried, "they're burnt to i^outhe-"
S^.e yelled. ''01, dear! oh, mercy on us "

\V hat s this o't now that's come upon us '
I 1 fa.nt ! I'll swarf, I'm mair than ghul '
I hat I will die upon my bed ;
Frae off this bed I'll ne'\-er riw
Oh, bring me Peden's Prophecies '
My last leaf frae life's tree is pluckit
The tow may now gang wi' the bucket -
Our road through life is dark and murky
We re now as poor as Job's ae turkey '
Poor beast, 'bout it we weel may wail.'
It had ae feather in its tail,
And it was sui)ple as a docken
Guid man I it was baith bent ami broken '
Here Nancy's eyes began to dance.

She lay as in a dismal trance

Then wildly cried, "Ma„g ,h,<,s o' gloom

Lp there I see a weaver's Itjoni

And David, I must let ye know it,

I must flee up and hide below it ■

And, oh ! there can be nae deceivin'

I see my faytlier weavin', weuvin', '

He looks like ane in deep disgrace'

How grim and gruesome is his face •
18 '

265

266

SKKKIIKS AM) AMiCliOTKS.

I i

(

l!
J-

■n

;i I

Tlu! will) lie wotivcs, I pl.iiiily see,
Is just iiM Itliick as l)l;(clv can \k\
It hiis iia(! tlnviul o' liriizlilncss in it.
Oil ! David, (■oinc this vciv initiit,
And sL'c that sinn ahiiiic iiis door -
' Tliis mail must weave lor evi-r more.'
There Satan sits 'maiiu; eoom and siuolii'.
Pcdntiiig Ills tlni^er at the eloeli,
And glow'riiiL? at liis Ivitii and l\in,
Wliile young and auld are swarming in !
Poor things, I'd gi'e a warhl's riehes
Cmdjl I but free them frae ids clutches.
The Hood o' life gangs rolling, rolling,
Tile bell is ever tolling, tolling,
The imps o' darkness, ghastly, rife,
Sit winding up tlie pirns o' life.
Ah, hk;, yon dungeons, dykes and fences.
Are like to drive me out my senses.
David, alas, my race is run.
My hindtnaist thread o' life is spun I "
Here Nancy opened up her eyes,
She look'd the picture o' surprise ;
She cried, " I see a Maid in white.
She'8 tilled my heart \vi' strange delight ;
Her face, her form is past compare.
Truth nestles in her golden hair,
She beckons me unto her side.
She says, ' Let reason be your .guide,
Forget tlio gliouls and myths of ages,
And turn the leaf to natures pages.'
Come I Come I " slie cries, " There, there I see
"Mang bowers of love she waits for me. '
Then David said, "I see it plain,
The myths are Hitting from your brain."
He smiled, then on his knees he clankil.
And loud be cried, " .Mav heaven be thaukil."

THE BANKS O' DOON.
Tu John Y. Reid, Esq., Toronto, Out.:

Dear Sir — The .second version of the sonor " Ye
Banks o' Doon " was written bv IJnrns for "Johnson's

SKETCH KS AM) ASK. 'DOTRS. Of^-j

M-.,so,„n » ami in :; I.ttor to (^.or.o Thompson, of K,Jin-

on,. :u.l how luMVi.n.l (Mark, ounpos..! an air to it
Hio hrst version was first puhlish,.,! in "Crom.k's
R^" ;,u..," tho MSS. .,• .,.i..h was fo„n<l amonrt.;
-ts papers. In a N-tt..- t., IJailantvno, in Jan'a,-.,
I.H., Hnrns ,,uotc..s the Hrst v.-rse of th. Hrst v.Tsion :"
" Yv llowery hanks «' Ix.iini.' Doon,
How can ye hlooni sac fair !

How can ye chaiit. vc lift 1,. birds,
And I sae f'u' <>' care ! "

The second version, hut not the Hrst, also may ho
ound . Dr. Currie's edition .f Bu..., puhlished in
IH 00. None of the versions, however, appear in the
K.lmarnoek, hrst Edinburgh edition, second KdinhurL^h
edition ,n two volumes, pul,lished in 179;^, nor in the Fal-
kirk edition printed by T. Johnston. Re^.arding this
last work, which is very rare, I am unable to ..ive the
da e of publication, as my opy unf.>rtunatelv lacks the
title page. While lately on a visit to Tor'onto I se-
eiired a volume in good preservation, c-ntitled, - Musical
Ropositary ; a collection of favorite Scotch, English and
Insh hongs, set to music-Glasgow. l>rinted by Alex
Adam, for A. Carrick, bookseller, Saltmarket, 1709 " It
i« a work I had never seen or heanl of, ...nd it contains a
cuno.is collection of lyrics prior to Burns' dav In this

I <i.scovered a third version of the song in ..uestion;
which I transcribe verbatim :

Vc hanks and braes i>{ hoiiiiy Doun,
How can ye bloom so fresh ]nn\ lair ?
How can ye chant , ye little birds,
While I'm so wao and fu' o' care ?
Ye'll break my heart, ye little birds,
That wanton through the Howering Ihoru •
Ye mind me of departed joys,
Peparted never to return.

268

8KETCnp]S AND ANECDOTES.

Oft have I roam'd by bonny Doun
To see the rose and woodbine twine,
VViiere ilka l)ird sung o'er its note,
And cheerfully I joined \vi' mine.
Wi' heartsonie glee I pull'd a rose,
A rose out of yon thorny tree ;
But my false h)ve has stolen the rose.
And left the thorn behind to me.

Ye roses, blaw your bonny blooms,
And draw the wild birds by the burn,
F\)r Luman promised me a ri-i;;,
And 3'e maun aid me slioulo i mourn.
Ah ! na, ua, na, ye ncedna mourn,
My eeu are dim and drowsy worn ;
Ye bonn\' birds, yc ncediiu sing,
b'ui Luman never can return.

My liUman's love, in broken sighs
At dawn of day by I)()Un ye'.se hear.
And mid-day, by the willow green,
For him I'll slied a silent tear.
Sweet birds, I ken you'll pity nie,
Ami joi': me wi' a plain! ivc sang,
While eelu) waki's, and joins the mane
I m.d.' for him I lo'ed sae lang.

8ir, you will observe that in the above version
" Dooii " is spelled "Doun." I am inelincd to think
that thiH is the original song from which Burns obtained
his two versions, ami that it is more of an Englisli i^ong
than a Scotch one. The name "Luman," if my memory
serves nie I'ight, I have never found in any iSeottish
Hong or ballad. It aj»})ears to me, from internal evi-
dences, that this song eminated from the heart and pen
of a female song-writci-. Instead of Ayrshire, 1 am
constrained to believe that the scene of the song is laiti
in Perthshire. The baronial castle of " Dcmn" or
" Donne " is surrounded with romantic scenery, an<l
connected with niiiny interest itig associations. It was
for some time the residence of Mary Stnart, the unfoi

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

269

tunate Queen of Scotland ; and Prince Charles Stuart
made it his headfjuartcrs, for a time, in 1745. Under
these circumstances, I iiavc no doubt that the tale of
true and false love was freqiientlv told

Regarding these three versions of "Ye banks and
braes," Sir, permit me to saj^ that you have a perfect
right to draw your own coni^lusions.

ve version
1 to tliiTik
IS obtained!
iiLjli>li song
iiy memory
ly Scottish
iternal evi-
u't and pen
shire, I am
song is laitl
' Doun" or
enerv, and
18. It waH
the unfoi'

Mr. and Mas. TAMSON.
[Incribed to T. H. Robkhts. Esq , Detroit |

John Tamson aud his ^niidwife, Jean

Tf)ok notions in their l)rain
To gang and see .Jean's a-ed Aunt

Out at the town of Wayne.*
Now, they were just as fine a pair

As e'er took hold o' hands,
In fact tliey strove in deed and word

To lieep the ten conmiauds.

Now, Jolin drew on liis overcoat,

Which buttoned to his nock.
And Jean put on her tartan pjuid,

Also her seal-.skin saciiue.
And she did wisely keep in mind

Her mitts and overshoes;
And on the road, to post Jolm up.

She took "The Evening News."

To please her Aunty, she resolved

That it would he befitting
To take her out a pair of Iioso

She had for weeks been knitting.
Now, when they reached the ti(diet door.

Quo' John: " We'll take a s]eej)er,"
•' No, no." quo' Jean. •• Now, take' my word

A cushioned .seat is cheaper.
*To those not oonv^rsanf witl. ".Vpi-l.ton's Sta.Mard Ili^.her Oe-j^n-apLr ■

nT^u'T ,"'"' '^'f^'"'^ '**''• "' "'" "■'^^" "*"•'*' '^"'•"' '<-'" '""'"« *lu." ^-.Hi fr ,«.
Detroit, -Miolugau, Lnited «tate8 of Americrt. Lat. «: IT Luu 6^ W

270

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTKS.

(■

"It doesna' do to sleep on straw,

And breakfast ou protonst-s,
But, J(jhn, it's best on every hand

To tlirottle the expenses."
When tliey were seated in the car,

Quo' Jean, " John, keep in mind
That tljougli we'll soon be on the wing,

That Providence is kind.

"So sit ye still, and nurse content,

And faith, ye may depend.
The engine soon will pu' us through

Unto our journey's end."
Wi' tliis the whistle gave a blast,

Quo' Jean: "John, take the hint,
And soon ye'll see that oH" we'll flee

As fast as fire from flint.

"The steam is up, oh, John ! oh John ?

I feel so calm, so glad;
I feel as safe as if I was

At hame In my own bed."
8he lookit through the window, and

Upon the landscape spying,
She cried: " Oh, John, look out, look out.

The very trees are flying."'

John keekit out and said it seems

As if the earth was loupin';
Then instantly he grasped Jean's hand

And held it in his goupen.
Now, from hrr reticule she drew

Bread, cheese, and twa three eggs;
She sprang ! she roared ! " Oh, John, a bolt

Has struck me on the legs I "

Pale grew her check, how pale, how wan,

Pale as tlie silvery light
That shimmers on the silent pool

Ui)on the lull o' niglit.
John lodkit down and tliere he saw

(_)ne uf the rO'istcr race;
It raised its head, it clapped its wings,

And crewel right in his face.

SKKtrilES AM) ANECDOTES.

J oh

n s

lid, " Yt' brute, what tciiiptcd ve

To dilf my wife like that

I wisli I had V

■ou al our liaiiie

D.eep (low 11 in our kail-pat.

They ehaiiued their

•^'■ats, i( wasna' laiiy:

Till Jean cried: " Mercy, mv.
From out the luni a cinder's come
And struck ine in the eye."

Jolm'.s mind with agony was struck;
His haiidkercliief he drew

And witli it took t

le ciiKlir from

llei' eye, so honnie blue.
They rolled alouis, and all the road

Jean sorely did complain,
rntij a man llun^; wide the door

And tenderly cried, •• W;

ivne

Now. when on reaching- Aunty's door

Their welcome was hut scant,
As she had n(),|,. (,> Hut tie Creek

rpon her marriai:c jaunt.
When Jean heard this sl>e wrun<,^ her haiid.s

And cried: " C)h, did

ve ever

The Tootlde.ss jade, she should be d
Deep in the deepest river.

"My ijoodness, me, that's news indeed
Tiiat takes my breath away;

The .-senseless ass ! She's sa.xty-uine
(^)me next St. Andrew's day."

Quo' John: "This ([ueer outlandi.sh nl

lown'd

plov

Is past my coniprehension:

She's ill her dotage, by my soul

She's ill her la-t declension.

"Bout ship," he cried, and then he .said

Some wt)rd> that I'll not iiain-';
Then Jean cried out: "(

ome, John, mv dear,

There is no place like ham.' ;
Nov.-, when they reached their

John thus to Jean did speak
" I hope your L'ncle .md your Aunt

Arehame from Battle Creek,"

271

own snug hame,

27 2

8KKTCI1ES AND ANECDOTES.

At tliia n^niitrk Jean laughed outright,

Then Sivid; "O, did yo ever I
I diniia care thougii they sliould stay

111 Batth' Creek forever 1 "
Now, Wi<lo\v Gunii enin' liirpliii' in

And unto Jean she says:
"I tliought ye would stay wi' your aunt

The feck o' twa three days."

Quo' Jean: "She's wed;" when this I heard

I couldna' weel d(!fend her,
Yet from my heart I fondly hope

That good may aye attend her,
"And should she bring her bridegroom here,

My certy, nie and John
Will point U) tliein racks, pegs and pins

Their clothes to liang upon."

Now, Widow GuTin cried, "Mercy me,

Y(»ur Aunty might think shame,
Siie's had three men, but look at me,

I've no ane to my name I
Bu' heavon miy send me yet a mm,"

And tlien she g;ive a sneevil;
And then slie .said, "My faith, they are —

A necessary evil ! "

I !

I WONDER TO HEAR YE.

John Bathgate was a substantial manufacturer. In
his youthful years, a caUant o' the name o' Willj^ Shaw,
was his great cronie. As before stated, John had pros-
pered, but Willy, on the contrar}'^, had gane back in the
warld. "Sow, John, remembering tlieir former friend-
slii)), took cotnpassio on Willy, and took him into his
aiti iioi se, and clotlied Iiim aiui fed liiin on tiie very best.
Now, John was an auld bachelor, and had nae wife in
liis hou.se to sae to iiim, "John, do this," or " Jolm, d«
the other thing." The result was, the twasome erackfd
awa, unmolested, to their heart's content. Ae day
Willy disappeared, and when lie came back Mr. Bath-

SivETCIlES AN'D ANKCDOTES.

2li\

gate said, " Losh, man, Willy, where in a' the earth ha'e
ye been ? Giiid guide us a', your l)reath smells like a
whiskey-barrel wi' the bung oot." " Tuts, get awa wi'
ye," quo' Willy. *' I wonder to heai- ye. I ha'e aften
felt your ain breath smelling like a whiskey-still, but I
didna' think it worth ma while to say onything
aboot it."

BITE ABOOT.

[Inscribed to Miss .Jeanie Bell, Toronto, Ont.j

All auld man '^at at Iiis how^ r door

Upon a simmer's day,
And watched a little lad and lass

Sao merry at their play.

At leiigtli thi' little lass ran in,

And she said 1o her mither,
" Ma, ma, I want a buttered scon >

Vur me and my wee brother."

When out the little lassie cam',
How sweet she look'd, I ween,

And tiien the twu wi' ae accord
Sat down upon th(! green.

She laugh'd sae kindly in his face,

Sac cunning and sae cute
When she cried out, " O Tam ! we'll eaf—

We'll eat it bite aboot."

How pleased th?y sat, contentment smil'd-

Nae selfishness was there;
The auld man nosed his ey(\s and sai 1,

"God blgss this lilUi; pair. '

A less(m fi-om tliis may lie drawn,
Which some will draw nae doot,

Miiir kindly words were never said —
"We'll eat it bile aboot."

"We'll eat ii ...te aboot," she said,

" We'll eat '•. -"^e aboot,"
Mair kindly w .r^js were never -^aid

'We'll cut il bile aboot"

274

BKETiMKS AND ANKODOTES.

I-

McCALLUM AM) THE WITCH.

(IiiserilM-'i to Stewaut Makk--. Kvii.. Dftinil.]

Scotland, as well as oUrt coiuitries, was at one time
greatly infested witli Witches, so niiu-h so tliat ninnl)ers
of people kept certain articles in theii- houses, and on
tlieir persons, as a fancied protection against their evil
madiinations. Tliese Witches are generally re))resented
to have been mi>erable old withered ha^'s, decrei)it in
Klature and hrimful of spite, spleen and inalii^nant mis-
chief and bedevilment, Tliey were more abundant than
Warlocks for the reason it is said that Satan has more
p(»wer o\er the .sex on account of P^ve's blundering
weakness in the Garden of Kden. They were divided
into three clauses, lilack, White and (Trey — the first could
hurt, the second could help, aiul the last could both help
and hurt. It was the general belief that thev made a
Contract with Satan — selling him their souls and bodies
for which he gave theni the jtowc" to change themselves
into cats, dogs, or any othei- animal that suited their
purpose or inclination. The common 151ack Witch had
the power of flying through the air mounted on a
bro .mstick, branch of the Irendock, or, according to
James Hogg, they sometimes " saddled tludr nags on the
moonfern leaf." They frequently met in chui'ch-yards,
antl one woman confessed that Satan went before them
dancing in the sha})e of a dog and ]>laying on a pair of bag-
fii)»es I A great number of methods were ado[>ted to
prove that a Witch was a Witch. One ])laii was to put
her in a pair of scales and Aveigh her against the Church
Bible, and if she was lieavier, she wis inmiediately
found guilty. Anotlier m('th(»(l was to make them at-
tempt to repeat the Lord'-; prayer, which few of them
Were able to do correctly. But the general plan was to-

SKETCHES AM) ANECDOTES.

'JTr)

)ag-
(l to
.lit
urcli
It fly
1 at-
hem
LS to

biiiil them crosswise, vi/: the ric^ht thumb to (lie lift
toe, and tlie left thumb to the right toe, ami then throw
them into a pond or river, and if innoeent they w mild
Bwiiu, and if guiltv they would sink. It was also the
common belief that a Witch could not wt'C)* more than
three tears, and that only out of the left eyi', and this
lack of weeping was consi<h'red by the sci'kcrs-out (,»f
Witches, and by tlu' ignorant and superstitious judges,
as a decided |>roof of guilt. It is revolting to human
nature to read the diabolical accounts of the trials and
persecutions that these poor, miserable weak-minded
creatures were subjected to. When sus|»e('ted of boing
a Witch, and when put to the torture, they frcMpu'iitly
confessed that they were in league with Satan; but it
mattered little whether they made a confession or not,
for, without either the " why or the wherefore," the\'
Were pronounced guilty. In many i)laces in Scotlaml
the "Witches' knowe" is pointed out whci'e they were
burned to death. In the reign of James I. an act was
passed against Witchcraft, one clause of which runs thus:
"Any person who shall ]>ractice or exorcise any witch-
craft, enchantment, cliarm, or sorcery, wheieby any
person shall be killed, destroyed, wasted, consume*!,
pined, or lamed in his or her body, or any part thereof,
such offender, duly and lawfully convicted, shall suffer
death." And no later than the reign of George I. was
this statute repealed. Since the schoolmaster is abroad
the bogles, ghosts, witches, warlocks, fairies, brownies,
asypodes, water-wraiths, and kelpies have entirely dis-
appeared.

The following tradition illustrates the once common
belief in Witches in general, and the <»rey Witch in

•ticuli

fi^l

27(5

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

!■

ThcM'e was a man and his name was John McCalhim,
and he resided at liallaehhivan, Island of Ishiv, Arjjcvle-
sliire. One day he went to Balli<>rant for the pnrpose of
getting some horse liarness repaired by a saddler wliose
name was Duncan MeDermaid, and who resided in that
place. After the liarness was mended, tlie two being
old friends, and liclieving that the bands of friendship
could not be tightened without a dram, they paid a visit
to the inn kept by Peter Douglas. One glass followed
another, and they sat until midnight singing songs with
great glee, telling strange and queer stories and drink-
ing to one another's goovl health.

Care's lugs were cuff'd, nae hole had he to hide in.
Sac off lie sulk'd and joy was left prcsidiu'.

When John MeCallum at length rose to go home,
the landlord and John MeDermaid prayed upon him, as
he valued his life, not to go, but to remain until day-
light, as a Witch and Warlock at a place called Imara
Conard would allow no one to pass after regular hours.
McCalluni was, however, of a stubborn and foolhardy
disposition, and turned a deaf ear to their urgent solic-
itations. In a moment of bravado he called for another
gill by way of deochan doralsli, or stirrup-cup, and as a
toast he gave "Here's to the old Warlock ! " which toast
made the blood of his two companions curdle in their
very veins. He uhen took his staff, shook hands with
liis friends and started on his homeward journey, but
little, little did he know the troubles that were before
liim. As he was going through a wild and dreary spot
he behekl two unearthly objects suddenly approach, and
by the faint light of the moon he saw that one was the
Grey Witch and the other the Grey Warlock of the glen !
The Witch looked with fury at the man, she raised her

SKKTCirKS AXD AXECDOTKS.

377

day-

hand and she said, '^ Where goest thou, AfcC^illum ?
You shall not go any fui-tlier ! Tliere sliall l)o weeping
and wailing at Hallachiaveii to-morrow ! You drank the
health of the Grey Warlock and yuii slighted me, the
Grey W^itch of Lnara (\)nard." fSIie gave a scream and
Hew at McCnllum, and would have torn out his heart
had not the Grey Warlock si)rang between the two. She
Hew round and round, while Hames of tire issued out of
her nostrils, and ever and anon she muttered words of
nameless vengeance ! At every breath she blew, the
lightning- 'lashed and the thunder bellowed amongst
the hills ! With trembling steps, under the j.rotection
of the Warlock, MeCallum at last reached his uwn door.
The Warlock then said, " Farewell, McCallum! and know
that under your own roof, from the rising to the setting
of the sun, you are safe from the Grey Witch of Imara
Conard; but remember, if you are found out of doors
when darkness shrouds the mountains, your days on this
earth are ended ! "

Night after night there were strange noises heard
round McCallum's house, and after sunset l;e never ven-
tured forth uidess accompanied by a friend, as the Grey
Witch was ever hovering near. At length he became
80 annoyed at her presence, that with the view of getting
rid of her, he consulted several old women who were well
versed in the ways and manners of spirits, visible and
invisible. They came to the conclusion that his wisest
course was to consult Donald McLellan, commonly
known as the Red Warlock of Esldnish. Accordingly
McCallum laid his case before him, but he replied, " I
can do nothing, as these matters are too near my own
door, but get a boat and sail to the Island of Mull, between
sunrise and sunset, and then goto the house of the Witch

278

SKKTCHKS AM) ANEODOTES.

if-

c:
O

of Mull. Take those tokens," — and the ReJ Warlock
gave liiin two cat's claws and two pair of dog's tusks,
[lacked in a goat's liorn, — "and when you get to the
door, rattle the horn and cry out, ' Peace be here,' and
the Witch will immediately appear." MoCallum then
proceeded home and made pi'epai'ations for Ins journey.
He found little rest that night, as the (rrev NVitch made
such unearthly noises, which made iiim y'roan and moan
and start at every breath he <lrew. Yet when
the sun rose next morning lie was ready to
venture. He launched his boat, and the wiixi
being favorable, he soon crossed the channel and
reached his destination in safety. With little
trouble he found the door of the Witch's cabin, and lie
cried " Peace be here." lie rattled the horn, and be-
fore the last rattle ceased the Witch appeared, and she
said, "I am at your service, iVIcCallum." " How do you
know my name is McCallum ?" lie inquired. " T know
by the lioi-n that you hold in your liand," she replied,
"I also know the place you came from, the one who
sent you, and likewise your errand. McCallum ! the
sun is about to sink in the west, repair to that hut, the
Blacksmith is tliere and in the act of kindling a lire, but
first leave me one of the cat's claws, and a pair of the
tusks of the dog and then I will be able to protect
myself against the Witch of Imara Conard, and when yon
go to the door of the hut shake the horn, and the Black-
smith will beckon vou to come in, and do whatever he
says, but for the life of you make no answer." True to
the words of the Witch, he found the Blacksmith, who
said, " Draw near and take hold of the bellows, McCal-
lum ! " Then the Blacksmith took hold of a rod of
steel, and, after placing it in the fire, he took a well-

SKIOTCIIKS AND AVKODOTKS. ■J'JC)

worn horsr-slio.. an.l nnih-.l it ..v,.,- tin- .lo.w lo pivvont
theentran.H. ofthc vsW spirits „r tli,. ;,ir. WIhm. this
was aecr.MiplislK'.l, 1„. ,.n,,,|, - lilow, .Mc( \illuni ! " ;iM,i
MfCalituM I.K.w, l,u! uttore.l novcr a wonl. As tho
8teol was ,.,.,tin.. hot a nois. was hranl in ,1,,. air, an<i
the Groy Witrl, of In.ara Conanl a,.|.,.ar..i at tl.o .loor,
but .larc.l n..t vcntinv past the horso-sh.K> ! At thirt
niotnont a hiri^o Mack Ao.jr <..,„,(■ from o.u' eon.cr of the
hut, and \ay down .-los*' to tho anvil. Wlien 'he stool
was takon ont of tho fire luirnino- hot, and, althou-h tho
sj.arks How over the doj. i,, all rlirootions, ho lay as still
as doath. Tho IJIacksniith again placod tho stool in tho
tiro, and aLraiii ho oriod, " JJlow, MoCalli

door tho Witch

uin ! " and at tho
scroanied in agony, as sho know tho spoil

she had cast upon ^[cCalluni was al

P
)out to bo broken !

When tho spoar was fashiojiod to tho satisf

tho Blacksmith, ho hold it over his head

must be tempered in the bodv of

and

lotion of
<'»-iod, '-'rhis

I man or the hody of

a dog," and McCallum saw death staring }
face, but the Blacksmith, with tho arm o{
dashed it through tho body of the dog! \V1

iim in tlio
V(Migoance,

was done, the C

>on this

iroy Witch gave ai

vanished as sudden 1

1 unearthly veil an<l

^[oCallum set sail with the sj.ear in J

y as sh(> apj)oarod ! Next d

10 injunction that ho should i

lis ]iossession, with

sunset, otherwise tho Witcl

lover l>o without it, after

end to his davs ! U

> would ))ut ,11, imme(liat(

about 10 o'clock

reached homo tl

10 next evening,

, 111 great glee and without inolestat

or years after ho carried on his f

ion.

vsafety, till one harvest

irming opt'rations ii

tain in o- the

ovening he loft h

IS vest, con-

pear, at one end of the field, and heedlessly

remained at work after tho shearers had

The sun went down ! II

gone horn;

e s

aw the Grey Witch appo

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380

8KBTCIIKH AND ANKCDOTKH.

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with the spear in her hand ! Ho tried to evade her,
but with a howl she cried, *' McCallinn, you are mine ! "
and she hurled the spear througli McCalluni's heart !

The spear was found next day in his body an<l was
carefully preserved for many t^enerations. It was
brouglit to this country in the year 18") 1, and is now in
the possession of Mr. Niel Taylor, Piper to the St. An-
drew's Society of Detroit. Little more remains to be
iaid, with the exception of this, that one of the bards
wrote McCallum's epitaph in Gaelic, which is thus freely
translated for the first time into English:

Here lies the body of John McCiiUuni,

An awful death did once bef.-ill him.

Tlie Grey Witch cuino and with wicked art

She plunged a spear through iiis vital part;

He is (lead I he is gone I he lies at rest,

He died in the field withoiit his vest;

If the spear had been out of the Witch's way

His breath woulil have been in, his body this day.

THE DOWNFALL OF THE STOVE.
[Insuribed to Judok Bahtlet, WindBor, Out.]

One night I sat devoid o' care,
A-huraming o'er an auld Scotch air,
When in my wife rushed wi' despair,

And me slie much eiirpris'd;
She cried '' Oh, dear ! oh, mercy me,
I'm ready to lie down and dee —

The kitchen stove's capsiz'd 1 "

My goodness, I did get a fright;
My hair stood up, then turne<l white;
I rose, I ran wi' a' my might

On hearing her sad story ;
I looked, a tear drop tilled my e'e,
For, oh, the wreck reminded me

Of Sodom uud Gomorrah !

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES,

281

Our kitchen stove, (.iir joy and pride !
Lay vvlioininlcd up upon its side,
And, mercy nic. oh. woe betide.

I swore, while my wife ^'rumhl'd;
For, when the wrctclied i)ipes fell down,
She got a whack upon the crown,

And down, woes me, she tunibl'd.

Quo- she. "That pipe's concussed my braiu
But It is needless to oinphun; '

We'll set our auld friend up again,

Wi' little toil or fash;
And then, guidnian. 'tween you and me,
I will infuse a cup o" tea,

And warm up the hash."

Wi' that I soon threw olf my coat,
A fulcrum and a lever got,
Tlien on its feet, I weel, I wot,

The stove made its appearance.
And then cpioth I, " Guidwife, I pray.
Kemember this both night and day— '
There's naught like perseverance."

''Juo' she •• The stove .stands brawly there.
The pipes must now demand our care"
Quo' I. •' Guidwife. just say nae mair,'

My heart's as light's a feather, '
For sometlung's whispered in my car-
Sir, sir, ye need not stove pipes fear,

Ye'll soon put them together.''

I failed to liud their kith and kiu,
I pulled them ..ui, 1 pu.shed theni in,
I hammered them wi' niickle din,

When up my temper rose,'
I struck a length wi' mad despair.
It gave a bound up itj the air,

And struck me on the nose.

Quoth r, " My dear, my love, my sweet,
There's sometimes wisdom in retreat,"
So out I ran and down the street,
iMy faith I did not tarry '
19 ^'

282

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

.'I

i ,.

',!'i

l!l If

I cried " IIo ! boatman, seize j'our our
Anrl row ine to the other shore,.
Oh I row me o'er the ferry."

Wlien o'er the stream I did not fail
To tell Judge Bartlet my sad tale,
Who sent me down to Sandwich jail

An errand with a letter,
And when they saw my .scarts and scars,
They placed me in behinil the bars,

Until my nose grew better.

And now behind these bars, I swear
I'll handle stove pipes never niair,
They've brought on me a world o' care —

The deevil tak' them a';
And this opinion I'll maintain
Though I should live as lang agaii;

As that auld man Methuselah,

AITLICATION.

And now to young and old, I send

This sad and doleful wail.
Keep from Judge Bartlet and the road

That leads to Sandwich jail.

THE MINISTER AND THE MAX.

Oor minister had a man o* wark, and his name was
Auld Tammie Anderson. He was a kind o' conooited body,
yet he meant well enough as far as his gumption would
allow. He was cross-grained and stubborn, and though
his mistakes were pointed out and laid before him, 3'et
he would find excuses, and argue that he was right and
everybody else in the wrong. One day the minister
went into the stable and fotind that Tammie had cut
cverv individual hair from off his horse's tail. In fact,
it was as bare as a beard newlv shaven. The minister
reproached him and reproved him. He said, " Thomas,
how did it enter into your head to do that? I can
never ride out on that horse till his tail grows. Were I
to do so I would be a laughing-stock to all the people in

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

283

the country-side." "Tuts," replied Tammie, "ye din na
seem to tak' into consideration that the winter has set
in, and that the horse has now nae use for a single hair
on his tail. For ye ken, sir, the horse-clegs and midges,
sir, are a' gane to the decvil."

MY BONNIE BAIRN.

[Inscribed to Miw. Wanlkss.J

la my auld hiune we had a flower,

A bonnie bairnie, swcci and fair ;
There's no a tlower in yonder bower

That wi' my bairnie could compare.
There was nae gloom aboot.our house,

Ilis merry laugh was fu' o' glee ;
The welfare o' my bonnie bairn

Was mair than world's wealth to me.

And aye he'd sing his wee bit sang.

And, O, he'd make my heart sae fain,
When he would climb upon my knee

And tell me that he was my ain.
The bloom has faded frae his cheek,

The light has vanished frae his c'e ;
There is a want baith but and ben.

Our house nae mair is fu' o' glee.

I'll ne'er forget the tender smile

That tlitted o'er his wee bit face.
When death came on his silent wing.

And clasp 'd him in his cold enil)race.
We laid him in the lonesome grave.

We laid him doon wi' niickle care ;
'Twas like to break my licurt in twain

To leave my bonnie dailiuix there.

The silent tears unbidden came,

The waefu' tears o' bitter woe ;
Ah ! little, little did I think

That death would lay my darlins,' low.
At midnight's lone and mirky hour,

When wild the angry tempests rave,
My thoughts — they winna bide away—

Frae my ain bairnie's wee bit grave.

284

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTEH.

i!'i I

it;

! I

n: >

THE SARNIA TUNNEL REVISITED.

[Inscribed ta Matob Watson, Samia, Ont.]

I didna feel just unco weel,

Sae after sage opinions,
I thought I'd gang and eet my foot

Upon the Queen's dominions.
Bae after taking tlie liand-shaliinjr,

And after life insurin'.
I found mysel' in Samia toon,

Right opposite Port Huron.

I slept a' night till niornin' light,

And after breakfast rations,
I started doon the road to view

The tunnel excavations.
Some gormandizx'rs love to see

A sheep-head or a sausage.
But as for me I'd sooner view

A subterraneous passage .

The bairns were playing 'bout the doors,

The bonnic birds were singin'
And in the orchards on the trees

The apples red were hingin'.
The mighty river rolled along.

By many a streamlet fed,
Un.aindful of the diggers who

Were digging 'neath her bed.

And wlien I reached the tunnel warks,

I rappit at the door,
When twa three brutes o' senseless dogs

Set up an unco roar.
And soon a man cried out, " Wha's there ? "

And when he drew the pin,
He said, " Just gang the road ye cam':

I canna' let ye in. '"

Quoth I, " Ouidman, below the ground

We are uniting nations,
But 'bove the ground I trow ye'ye got

Unfriendly regulations.

SKETCHKS AM) ANBCI>0TK8.

285

"I represent our Uncle Sam,

And I ha'e come to see je,
And our intentions are l> keep

On social footings wi' ye.

" Now let me in," but faith wi' thia

He grew a wee thought bolder.
Sae on my heel I turned about

And gave him the cold shoulder.
And then I hurried doon the toon

Wi' breast-bone on expansion.
And soon I found myscl' within

The Mayor's friendly niansiou.

I look'd around, I saw a man

Upon a muckle chair,
And then I said, "Sir, may I ask

If ye're Port Sarnia's Mayor ? '
He answered '• Yes," and soon I Maw

He had nae spark o' pride.
And then I told him I belonged

Unto the other side.

I told him 'bout the tunnel man

Which I above have stated.
And then desired that he forthwith

Should be incarcerated.
He then replied, " I know the man.

He has both sons and daughters,
And for their sakes I'll throw some oil

Upon the troubled waters.

" Take my advice and .say no more;

His act might lead to war.
We'll smoke the pipe o' peace," he bow'd,

And I took a cigar.

A FAITHFUL WIFE.

Jenny Clapperton wa.s a servant-lass at the manse

and she was considered by the minister, the elders and

others, as a great cook. She got tired of service, and

took a notion into her head to get married to George

286

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

Blair. One Sunday evening George said to her " Jenny
ye ha'e just half hungered me this blessed day." Wi'
this Jenny lifted up her hands and said, "Mercy rae,
George, hoo in a' the warld can ye say that ? This
mornin' ye had a })icker o' parritch and a pint o' milk
to yere brejikfast, and after that ye had three cups
o' tea, without saying ony thing aboot the flour-scones.
After that ye had yere nocket, consistin' o' bread and
cheese and a bowl o' lajijjered milk. Then ye had to
yere dinner sheep-head kail, and a >.',eep-head, together
wi' the trotters. To yere fouroors ye had 'taties and
herrin', and to yere supper ye had eauld kail het again.
Now, after a' that, I wad like to ken what mair do ye
want ?" " Want, " quo' George, " Ma face is just the
very picture o' want, but I will say nae mair, as Jenny,
my dear, ye are a faithful wife, and a faithful wife is
the medicine of life."

ORD, THE CIRCUS MAN.

(Inscribed to Captaik .Tames Morrison, Detroit.]

There cam' a man to our gate-end,

Who was with heat oppress'd,
He saw a public house, so he

Went in to take a rest.
His coal-black hair was mixed with grey.

Yet he stood up erect:
His looks betokened him a man

That would command respect.

He gave a glance around the room,

He saw a quiet nook,
He sat, then from his pocket he

Drew forth a 12nio. book.
He read a passage here and there.

Then 'gan to ruminate.
And then he cried: " Ho, Landlord, bring

A speldron on a phite.

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

267

" Your whisky's good, I Imvo hoard say.

And I do well believe it,
8n you may also bring to me

A dram of your Glenlevit."
He took the speldron in liis hand,

And he began u-muucliin'.
Wiieu in there came a Bully-man

Who saw him at his luncheon.

This Bully-man, the great George Combe,

Once very plain did tell him,
That all the brains that, he possess'd

Were in his cerebellum.
Now to descant on George's words

Is foreign to my jvlau,
As he more titly could describe

This base, degraded man.

He grabbed the whisky, drank it down

Without an observation.
Which act brought from the elder man

No words of indignation.
But in a calm and peaceful strain

Cried " Landlord," when he came,
He said, " Be pleased to bring to me

Another of the same."

Tiie Landlord brought another dram,

And just as (juick as wink
Again the Bully seized t»he stoup

And swallowed down the drink.
The man looked at the Bully-man,

And a long breath he drew.
And then he said, " I don't propose

To buy more drink for you."

The Bully roared, " Come out, come out.

And I'll knock out your brains,
And then I'll shower ten thousand tears

Above your cold remains."
The elder man rose up and said,

" I cannot say you nay:"
Then to the Landlord he spoke thus:

"Come out and see fair play."

i- <

U (ill' .

,< a

N I''

I'l!

I' I

I''

1 (

J \i

L* 1-1

988

SKE'miKS AND ANKCDOTES.

TliP Liindlord said, " I'll « 'cn do that,"

And as the story j^ocs,
To Wf lair play In; quickly placeil

Ilis specs upon his nost'.
Then out llicy went upon the green ;

Before the Hully wist,
n«! got a wliack hcliiud the- ear,

Another on the (;hest.

Headlong he r<'Ii ! As up he rose.

With bated breatii, he stated
Tiiat from the quickness of tlie round,

He felt humiliated.
The elder man stood like a rock,

And then he cried '• Beware ! *'
Then quick as thought the Bully's heels

Were flickering in the air.

He slowly gathered himself up,

As down the road he ran;
The victor said, " He'll fight no more

With Ord. the (Mrcus-man."
The Landlord laughed ii merry laugh,

His mouth wide open flew;
The tears rolled down, and his red nose

More red and redder grew.

And then he cried: "And are ye Ord ?

Come in and for your pains.
And ye shall get the very best

My public house contains.
" And 'tent ye. sir. I hope that knave

Will never more neglect
To speak to ehler people with

Due kindness and respect.'

Now his guidwife heard these remarks

As she cam' round the gable,
She smiled and then she sweetly said:

I' The dinner's on the table."

Ord, the Ciirus-tiKiii, waH wi'll known throughout thf length and breadth
of the three kingdoms. lit' was lioni in tho parish of Longforinacua, Bor-
wickshire, Scotland, wlu-ii' his father was parochial niiiiist^r. He was dBs-
iiaed for the ministry. Ijut pretVrred the circus to the pulpit. I may hero
state that when in my early ye^rs. though he was then past middle age, I
saw him at one tremendous bound leap over 1«> horses.

HKKTCIiKS AMI AMCl |»OTBa.

iso

A FINK SKNfSATION.
|Tn>4.Tiho.t to UoiiKRT Swan, K*i., Toronto, Ont |

A(! (luy John Tod cam' doori tlic road,

And he was in a flurry ,
TwHH easy hccn that lie was mi

A most (•(»nfo\unh'd hurry.
Atild Sandy Duncan mot hhn, and

Quo' he, '• Whafsa' the bicker?
I dinna tiiinli that for your lif«'

Yo could ;,'an.if niuckl*; iiuickcr."

'• I'm gaun," (juo' he, " I'm y;aun awa'.
To wlierc the i^oodneas kens.
But I'll ne'er stop until I reach
Earth'8 very utmost ends.
" Wl' Nan Ive lived for forty years,
And I may say wi' truth,
Siie has a tonsjue— the vilest tongue
That e'er hung in a mooth.

" This day she opened out on me,

Jtist like a raging bear,
Hut faith I made her comprehend

She'd never see me niair."
Quo' Sandy. '• What did Nannie say.

When ye cam' alT for good ? "
Quo' John. " She didna' say ae word.

But like a statue stood.

" Tiiank heaven ! her tongue did come at Ia.st

To a complete stagnation;
If she no got a red-hot sljot,

She got a tine sensation ! "
But Sandy didna gang sae far,

A'maist afore he keut,
He ga'e a groan upon a stone,

Syne hatne to Nannie went.

breadth
us, Bor-
vas dH8-
ay here
9 a^, r

Rkv. JOHN BROWN AND FERGU8S0N, THE POET.
When in Canada, some time ago, mv friend Mr.
Dick handed me an ohl fimeral letter. It was thus ad-
dressed to his grandfather. " Mr. Wm. Dick, r,o.sford

300

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

<\ ! iV'i

lli '"!■ ,

Mains." It wa^ the original letter of invitation to the
funeral of Dr. John lirown, author of the " Dictionary
of the Hihle." It read thus:

"SiK, — Mr .luhn Brown, my fatlier, dit'd (»ii Tuesday evening,

and is to be buried in tlic (■liureli-yiird Univ., on Saturday the 2Hd

current, at eleven o'clock fMrcnoon. Tlic favor of your presence

to uecompuny the funeral will much oblige, Sir,

Your most oiicdient servant,

John Biiown.
Haddington, 21st June. 1787.

Please to acquaint Robert Marshall, .laraes Deans, .Tolui White,
James Slieurer, and the liour is punctually kept at Hadilington."

In connection with the above letter, I niav state that
I have in ray possession a rare edition of " Fergusson's
Poems," edited by James Hannington i.iu printed by
Oliver it Co., Edinburgh, IHOO. Facing the title-page
is a j»ortrait of the poet, engraved on Hteel, and under-
neath it the words "OgVjurn Sculp." In the biograph-
ical sketch it is stated that poor Fergusson, when in a
melanclioly state of mind, met the Rev. John Brown in
Haddington church-yard. I quote from the biography,
K'aving the reader to decide whether the words of gloom
are better than the words of cheerfulness. "Mr. Brown,
when taking a walk in Haddington church-yard, met
with a disconsolate gentleman, whom he did not know,
walking in the same place. They accosted one another,
and Mr. Brown made a few remarks, observing, that in
a short time they would soon be laid in the dust, and
that therefore it was wise to prepare for eternity." This
disconsolate gentleman was Fergusson, and the above
encounter happened in 1772. The biographer philoso-
phically remarks, "A very trilling circumstance will,
in particular situations and states of the mind, produce
extraordinary consequences."

8KETCUE8 AND ANECDOTEK.

291

imder-

How different, how syiMpatlu ic was the conduct of
Robert Hums. In the year 17H7, when in Kdinhur^jh,
he visited the Canoiwate fhurch-vard. When he came
to poor Fergusson's j;riive, he uncovered Iiis head, and
while the tear of conipasHion rulU-d d<»wn Ills clieel<, he
kneeled upon the yrave, and with a fellow-feeling klNsed
the clay-cold ground.

WIVKS CAN DO NO WKONCJ.

[liiKcrilH'd toTHoH. Hk<k. F.s<|. Mup'^IihII, V«.|

Tiiere whs ane wife wlia had ane man,

And wlien he tcjok niu' glass,
She'd do lier best to bottle up

The tears o' her distress.
Shed say when he reoltMl to the door.

"My dear, I um so ijlad.'
Then wi' a smile and cani\ wonl

She'd pack him off to bed.

There was ane wife wha had ane man.

And slie wad speak unceevil.
When he cam' hamc; she'd make a din

Enough to scare the deevil.
She'd look at him wi' cauld disdain

And wish she ne'er was wed.
Syne wi' the porridge spurtle, she

Wad steer him into bed.

Now Tammie Trotter has ane wife,

Wha looks e'en like a wraith,
Whene'er she smells the faintest smell

(>' whiskey on i\is breath.
My faith, her ton<;ue when she begins,

Gets supple as i docken.
But what she says or what she does

Had better not be spoken.

Now Tammie, 'gainst his own guid wife

Would scorn to be rebelling,
Although he often wished some day

She'd loose her sense o' smelling.

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292

8KET<'IIKS AND ANECDOTES.

I !

Ae day a thought struck Tammie's head,

That he awa' would wend
To Dr. Gunn, and wic if he

Some cure would recommend.

He laid afore him his complaints,

He told him 'bout hi.s breath;
He told him how his wife's ill tongue,

Was lik(! to be his death.
The doctor said: " Take my advice,

And tliat will strike her dumb,
If ye above the wliiskey take —

A glass or twa o' rum I "

Then Tammie cried: "That winna do,

That winna do ava,
When I gang hame I'm sure she'd knock

My head against tlu; wa'."
The doctor smiled, and then he said:

" It is th(! old, old song,
Your wife is right, and right is might,

Ho wives can do no wrong."

BROTHERS AInD SISTERS.

It has been frequently thrown in tlie teeth o' Scotch-
men that they are more patrioti<; abroad than they are
at home. I am somewliat inclined to believe this, for,
in evidence, at a debating club at Jackson, Mich., the
question under debate was, " Which is or Wan the
Greatest People in the World ? " Mackey Neilson rose
and said, " We ha'e a' heard this night a blast o' wan-
dering wind in praise o' the auld bletherin' Greeks and
Koraans, and aboot that auld ass Deogenis sittin' in a
wash-tub. I am sure the auld fool wad ha'e sat far mair
comfortable in an arm chair, but it just shows that he
had nae mair brains than a moudiwort. We ha'e also
lu^ard aboot Plato, Virgil, Horace and Homer. Just a
[)ack o' mongrels, bark, barkin', and naebody kens what
they are barkin' aboot. If ye wad tak' every aue o*

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTEH.

30»

them and row thera a' thegetlior ye wadna' mak' a Sir
Walter Scott oot o' the hale batch. We ha'e also heard
aboot some o' the ancient women — juHt a eleckin' o*
randies and dirty drabs. What ane o' them can com-
pare wV oor ain Grace Darling, Flora McDonald, Grizel
Cochrane, or Jeannie Deans? Puir Jeannie! I wadna'
gi'e oor Scotch Jeannie for a' the women re(;oided in
history. O, she was the (|ueen o' womankind. She
wadna' tell a lee to save the life o' her ain sister. Scot-
land is a grand nation. A' the rest o' the nations may
be compared to spunks, but she is like a beacon set on
a high hill gi'en light to a' the world. My certy, she is
the ane that wears the breekw. She's the aiie that can
cOck her nose and keej) the cantle o' the causey. 'J'he
mair I read her history the mair I believe Uiat her
uncles and aunts and her sons and daughters are twin-
brithers and sisters o' the aiio-els."

HOW CHANGED ARE THE TIMES!

[Inscribed IoJamioh If. .Vltin, Ksq.. Detroit |
How changed arc the limes since I lived wi" my initlicr.
How changed aiv the times! they are changed a' thcgether;
We have engines o' steam, and it's true, I (hire say,
They can bowl us live humlred laug miles in a day.
What wi' lolling in cars, there's a prevailing notion.
That we'll soon lose the art o' leg locomotion.
There are few walking now to the kirk or the ninrt,
Or driving o'er hills and down dales in a -art.
How changed are the times !

'Twas griuid in tiie cart ! in the cart 'mang the strac.
To sit wi' our lass on a braw simmer's day.
And while the auld horse wad gang jogging aIanl^
We wad cheer up our dear wi' a [)salm or a sang. '
'Twas even-doon Idiss ! aye, 'twas blythsotnc and cheei ie,
To sit 'mang the strae wi' our ain boruiie dearie !
And wlieu in our plaidie fu' kitidly we'd roll lier,
She'd cry, "Have a care, oh, take care o' my collar ! "
How changed are the times !

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294

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

How aften she'd say. and try hard to still u«:
" If ye rattle ma collar my mither will kill us,
Her tongue will e'en gang like the clash o' a mill.
Losh man ! guide us a' the cart's standin' still ! "
" Preserve us ! " we'd say, and afore she wad wiss
Frae her red rosy lips we wad steal a bit kiss,
When this was obtained the auld horse we wad wallop,
Then off we wad gae at the trot or the gallop !
How changed are the times I

'Fore the advent o' steam, and the engines and cars,
The country was fu' o' brave young Lochinvars;
How rarely we now spin in carts or in carriages,
Or put on our spurs to stop runaw^ay marriages.
We get married at hame, and like birds oot o' jail,
We loup into a car and tlee off on the rail,
But when we come off, how our cantle's vv'c claw,
And we wish that we ne'er had got marrit ava.
How changed are the times !

How grand were the times afore steam was invented.
How happy we lived; and we a' died contented I
We rejoiced a' the day, and at night we were glad
To lay oursel's doon on a braw heather bed.
We're now civilized I since we lived with our mitlicrs,
We now try to .sleep on a bed fu' o' feathers;
We kick and we plunge, and we wish frae our heart,
For the auld heather bed, and the straw in a cart.
How changed are the times !

To the kirk, on the Sundays, we a' gade sedate,
And the auld and the young would clank doon in a sate.
IJut look at them noo, no a lass in the toon,
But will fyke half an hour afore she sits doon.
We gade to the kirk to hear prayers and preachin",
We now gang to the kirk to hear skirlin' and screcchiu';
In my auld grannie's days, when I was a youth,
We prayed and we sang wi' our ain word o' mouth.
How changed arc the times I

O, where, and O. where is the auld .spinnin' wheel ?
And where, and O, where is the rock and the reel ?
They are either in garrits, or broken to Hinders,
Or they're thrown in fires and a' biunt to cinders.

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SKETCHES AND AXECDOTES.

295

O, where are the Hecklers ?— where, where are they tioo,
And the Swinglers o' lint and the Carders o' woo"?
They are gone, they are gone, aiifl they've left us a stock
That will neer fill the shoon o' the thrifty auld folk.

How changed are the times !
Our hraw linen sarks we ne cr see them ava,
Hinging out on the lic<lge.s as white as the snaw,
And gone are our niojcskinjs and corduroy jackets,
And shoon wi' their heel-plates, and tae-plates, and tackets,
But what I miss warst when life's at its close.
Is a bannock, a scrwie, or a bicker o' brose;
My faith it pits me in an even-doon passion,
To think that the bri)se has gane clean out o' fashion.

How changed are the times !

The bowies and l)ickers, how well we auce knew them,
The auld horn spo(ms, we will never mair view them;
Nae mair wi' the frizzle and tlint we'll strike fire.
Or carry the l)0U(!t at night to the l)yre.
Alas ! and alas ! never uuiir in our lives,
We will see comin' round the auld crippled .Situnk-wives,
Nae mair they will creep into barns and bunks.
Or mix up their brimstone to dip on their spuiiks.
How changed .are the times !

Our lassies are no like the lassies langsyne,
Wi' their silks, and their satins, and ribbons &ie tine;
I freely assert it would add to their graces,
If they'd burn their feathers, their frills and their laces.
And ply at the wark like their grannies afore them,
And then, by my faith, we wad fairly adore them;
I've been lauld— and it tills me clean fou' wi' amaze-
That some o' them ne'er pit a stitch in their claes.
How changed are the times !

We're up in the buckle ! We have sofas and loun!,ros,
We've l)aths, and we're spliishin' and washin' wi' snungcs,
And it's freely atfirmed that our Itcaus and our belles
Spend half o' their time ornamentin' theirsel's,
There's ma grannie, wha's dead, and e'en my aiii niitlier.
Ne'er looked in the glass frae ae week to the it her;
It's the steam ! it's the steam '. 'tis our curse and our bane.
And the cure is the auld simple notions again.
How changed are the times !

296

SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES.

NELL PROUDFOOT.
[Inscribed toUEOROE L. Hull, Esq., Detroit.]

Nell Proudfoot was u Scottish maid.

Sweet us the heather honey;
Though countless were her lieavenly ehannH.

She'd precious little raoney.
One day her grannie said to her.

Whom she loved with affection,
That those who lived an idle life

Dined in the devil's kitchen.

in!

She ruminated on these words,

And then with nimble feet,
She went and found employment with

A wife on Prospect street.
She lived contented with this wife.

Who had got lots o' siller.
And night and day Nell did her best

To be real good until her.

She'd wash the wife and comb her hair.

And when her work got .slack
She'd sit down biythly by her side,

And sing and ea' the crack.
To tell the truth and shame the deil,

She was a canty queen ;
'Twould even cheered up dark despair

To crack wi' her at e'en.

She had long hours, l)ut about that

Sweet Nell did ne'er complain;
She found that labor pleasure brought,

While idlonese brought pain.
In proof of this, in the laug-syne,

I had a worthy aunt
Who often said, "the sluggard is

The slave of woe and want. "

One night the wife said, " Nell, Pm sure
That Providence has sent ye,

And on the day ye're wed I will
With some grand gift present ye.

SKKTCHKS AND ANECDOTES.

"But. Nell, beware, take care and ne'er

Get buckled to a stranger.
As ten to one ye will be forc'd

To hoist the flag of danger. "

Ne?l blushed and said " I have a lad,

And his first name is Johnnie,
He is a butcher to his trade,

And he's baith guid and boniiie."
The wife raised up her hiuids, tlie.i placed

Her feet upon the fender.
And then she cried " tliat is the cause

Our beef is now so tender.

"The beef I got afore ye ram'

Most killed me a' thegelher;
When it was stewed, upon my soul,

It was as tough as leather. '
"If he should ask your hand, just lock

With lamblike resignation.
And tell him that ye'jl weigh' his words

With due consideration."

One morn all in the month of May,

Nell went with her own Johnnie!
And Mr. Dickie yoked them in

The cart of matrimony .
Then off they ran to the auld wife.

And when they told their story
Quo' she: " There's fifty dollars.' and

I'll give ye more to-morrow."

Ring out. ring out, ye marriage bells.

Ring till your tongues are reeking-
Ring out and tell that Handsome Nell

Next week will start house-keeping.

OUTS AND INS OF MATRIMONY.
Ilnscribed to Mrs. Jkshib Wa.nless Brack.)

Auld Nannie Dunn lay on her bed,

And wow, but she was unco ill
For oh, a thought ran through her head

That she was far past mortal skill.
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398

8KKT0IIE8 AND ANECDOTES.

'Twas midnight, and her guidnian, John
Fast by her aide serenely slumber'd.

She (M-iod, " Oh, John, in mercy rise.
For oh, I doubt my days are number'd. "

John rose and said, "What do ye want ? "

Siic answered and the words maist rluiked her,
'■ I want — ye weel ken what I want—

Oh, dear, oh, dear, I want a doctor."
Jphn's olaes were hung on a chair back,

According to his usual plan ;
He put them on, unbarred the door.

And for the doctor off he ran.

He rappit at the doctor's door.

The doctor cried " Wha's there ? " "John Dunn ;
Oh, come wi' me, my wife is ill,

1 doubt her thread o' life is spun."
The twasome soon got .on the trot.

My faith they hurried up the street,
They hurried sae they didna' let

A blade o' grass*grow 'neath their feet.

They reached the house, they heard Nan roar :

"Quick. John, oh, me. oh, woe betide,"
John struck a light and very soon

The doctor stood at Nan's bedside.
He felt her pulse, he saw her tongue,

Quo' he, " 'Tis needless me to see ye,
I swear by Claudius Galenus

That there's nae serious matter wi' ye.

" Now, Mrs. Dunn, all that ye need

Is just a dnnn of guid Scotch drink,
'Twill calm your nerves, and take my word

Ye'U be a' better in a blink."
The doctor went, and John went to

The public house, with mind at rest ;
The landlord rose, and soon John got

A mutchkin o' his very best.

When he got hame he cried ; " Now, Nan.

Drink this, and may guid luck attend ye ;
Just drink it up. and I'll be bound

That it will very quickly mend ye."

Iin

d."

I'lked her,

>lin Dunn :

roar

SKUTCHKS ANn AVKCrmTKS. g99

Shu cried : "Oh, Jolui. tak' it jiwa.

Ae drop ye needna* ofTcr til) me ;
Just tiike it off; oh. John ! oh. .lohn '

Its very smell is like to kill me."

John placed tho bottle to his mouth,

He wanted neither glass nor eiij),
Without a word, he drank it down.

He didna leave a single sup.
Then Nannie cried. " Vc greed v wretch

Your conduct sorely Ims distressed me "
quo' he. " Ye wadna' take a drop,"

Quo' she. •• Ve sumph. ye might' ha'e pressed me."

Quo' John, "The pressing days are gane,"

Then he began to dance and skip.
And loud he sang the auld refrain—

"There's many a slip 'tween cup and lip "
Wi' this Nan's blood began to boil,

And up she rose, and it is said,
She got a rung, and wi' its help

She sent him tlying back to bed.

BRING ME WHAT YE LIKE.

[Inscribed to Thoma.s Hislop, Esq., Detroit. |

Ben Nevis was a servant-man,

And in the silent night,
Without a warning word began

To groan wi' a' his might.
At times he'd spring clean oot o' bed,

Then in again would •whup.
And the result was that ho soon

Woke everybody up.

His master rushed to his bed-side,

And he cried out " Ben, Ben,
What's wrang wi' you. there's inair than me

This night wad like to ken ? "
Ben Nevis cried " Aneath the sheetn

For me there is nae shelter.
To end my days I wish that 1

Was hanging in a halter."

300

HKKTfHKK AND ANECDOTES.

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His mistress in her bed-gown cried,

" Ben, stop, aind in a minit
I'll mask some tea, now let me ken

What ye wad relish in it ?
Wad ye like sugar, milk or cream,

Plain bread or buttered toast.
Now speak elear oot and let me ken

What ye wad like the most V

' ' But maybe vex! prefer a scone,

A bab or penny-row ;
Now will ye wait till day-light comes,

Or will ye have theui now ?
But aiblins 3-e wad like to ha'e

A basin o' beef tea.
A bowl o' brose is unco guid

When charged wi' kitchen fee.

" I wish ye wail lay bare your mind,

And ca' for what ye please ;
If 1 were in your shoon I think

I'd ha'e some bread and cheese.
Oh, Ben, ye look as if ye had

Crossed o'er the brig o' hope,
Ben, will ye ha'e a brandered steak.

Or will ye ha'e a chop ?

" If ye wad only let me ken,

Right doon the stairs I'd whup ;
But first, a sang frae me might cheer

Your soul and body up."
Ben Nevis sighed and said "Oh, dear.

Oh, dinnu make a fyke.
Oh, gang awa and bring. Oh, bring,

Just bring me what ye like."

The master said "Hark, now guidwitc,

Your words are most bewitchin',
But Ben. my dear, wad sooner hear

Some music from your kitchen."
The wife cried, " Pit your fit to mine,

And you and I will pettle him,
I'll brew some drink, and soon ye'll see

That it will quickly settle him."

FINIS.

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