m UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA. BOUGHT WITH FUND GIVEN BY SCOTTISH SOCIETIES. OF CALIFORNIA. Class THE GABERLUNZIE'S WALLET BY JAMES BALLANTINE AUTHOR OF "THE MILLER OF DEANHAUGH," "ONE HUNDRED SONGS.' "POEMS," ETC. WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS BY ALEX. A. RITCHIE. The old man's silvered locks and furrowed brow, His dimpled cheek, and merry glancing eye, His ancient garments, and his homely speech, Touching memorials of an age gone by ; All tell that Time and he have run a race, And Time hath had the worst on't. Old Play. A i OF THE EDINBURGH: THE EDINBURGH PUBLISHING COMPANY. LONDON: HOULSTON & SONS. 1875. PREFACE. ABOVE thirty years have elapsed since "The Gaberlunzie's Wallet" was published, first in monthly parts, then in one volume. The book had a large circulation, run through several editions, and has for some time been out of print. I feel, therefore, very much gratified that the present publishers offer the volume at a price which brings it within reach of all classes. The character and scenery described were faithfully depicted from nature; the incidents on which the narrative is chiefly founded were connected with an in- teresting period of Scottish history; and I fondly hope that many of the songs may continue to be appreciated as they have been by my countrymen in all parts of the world. JAMES BALLANTINE. EDINBURGH, Christmas Day, 1874. 42000 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. PAGE THE AULD BEGGAR MAN, . . . . .13 JOHN KNOX'S HOUSE, NETHERBOW, 33 INTERIOR OF KELPIE CLEUCH, ..... 72 MARY HAY, .... 95 CATHEDRAL OF ST GILES, FROM PARLIAMENT SQUARE, . 109 PRINCE CHARLES'S ARRIVAL AT HOLYROOD, . . .138 THE NAIRN BALL, . . . . 183 WEST Bow : MIDNIGHT, . . . . . . 192 MORNING VISIT, ....... 222 FRIENDLY MEETING, ...... 253 BLACKBURN RUINED, . . . . . . 288 FECKLESS PHEMIE, ...... 303 THE LAIRD OF KEITH, ...... 339 INTRODUCTORY SCRAPS. The pawky auld carle cam ower the lea, Wi' mony gude e'ens and gude morrows to me, Saying, " Gude folks, for your courtesy, Will ye lodge a leal auld man?" JAMES V. THE Wallet of a Gaberlunzie, though filled only with scraps, often contains good gusty cheer; and when the owner has been long enough on the road to be able to find a home in every house he comes to, there is a chance of his having col- lected a few choice morsels, which even epicurean tastes might relish. Now-a-days, however, when bills are posted through every parish, and boards slung on every toll-bar, offering rewards for the apprehension of sturdy vagrants, and prohibiting begging as a public nuisance when out-door relief is proffered to the dwellers in tents and barns when the scattered tribes of Egypt are plying the shuttle of industry in staid and peaceful com- munities when smuggling is put down by the strong arm of the Excise and those who roamed about, making a living by evading the law, or by asking charity, have been compelled to betake themselves to other modes of procuring subsistence, 2 THE GABERLUNZIE' S WALLET. it may appear strange that we should solicit shelter for one of the wandering fraternity. Nevertheless, trusting to the kindli- ness of feeling generated in the days of yore, and believing that a Gaberlunzie cannot knock in vain at the door of a Scottish heart, we have ventured to bespeak a kind reception for his lyart locks and his furrowed brow, hoping that, in return, his conversation may cheer a moody mind, and beguile a tedious hour. It is not our intention at present to introduce our hero to our readers in the usual formal manner; he will in due time introduce himself in a way more congenial with his own feel- ings, and in better keeping with his own character. Few people make anxious inquiry about a man in his grade of life, and he gets leave to bequeath to his descendants, along with his bundle of rags and his roving disposition, a clear mind and a healthy constitution, without any one claiming kin with him, or counting his pedigree. This neglect on the part of the world, however, has its advantages. Faces which are lit up with smiles in the presence of superiors often lower deadly dark when there is no motive for dissimulation, and nature is boun- tiful to the children of the bag and the scrip, inasmuch as she discloses herself to them without disguise or hypocrisy. Perhaps this was the idea which impelled our good King James, of glorious poetic memory, to assume the disguise of the ragged fraternity, that he might obtain a thorough know- ledge of how he stood in the estimation of his subjects ; at least our hero seems to have made choice of his once most respect- able profession, because it afforded him the best opportunity of becoming acquainted with the peculiarities of his own country- men. With an eye keenly alive to humour, and a heart deeply imbued with sentiment, he has travelled over, and become familiar with, the greater part of Scotland, and has succeeded in filling a very bulky wallet, from which we purpose to select such scraps as, it is hoped, may excite and gratify in some measure the public appetite j such sketches of character as may come within the range of the narrative to which this chapter is intended to form an introduction. Our friend is also an enthusiastic admirer of Scottish scenery, and talks with rapture of the pleasure it has yielded him in the course of his wanderings. "Ah," says he, "little wot ye o' the enjoyments o' a Gaberlunzie, what warlds come within his ken, THE GABERLUNZI&S WALLET. 3 how varied an' endless are his amusements ! Consider yoursel' daunderin' aboot amang the hills your leesome lane, without a leeving being to commune wi' anent the fou' flowing tide o' thought that's rowing thro' your bosom ; to lie doun on the crisp heather an' gaze up into glory, watching the varying shapes o' the wee pearly cluds floating thro' the blue ether, and the sma' black specks o' music warbling an' winging in mid- air like sae mony blessed spirits, blending heaven an' earth thegither ; to listen to the heather Unties in thousands around ye chirming an' keeping up the chorus, and hear the low, sweet, and harmonious notes o' the bonny hillside warblers o' auld Scotland echoed frae the choirs aboon; to gaze upon the mountains towering to the lift^ bold, rugged, an' gigantic, yet tapering wi' airy form and graceful elegance, their sides a' thickly studded wi' bonny green spats o' rich verdure, thatch- roofed cots, sma' sheep farms, winding paths, jutting points, wooded knowes, dark ravines, an' sparkling waterfa's ; to see a' these grand features alternately in light an* shadow, the rays o' light dancing, flickering, and playing at boo-peep amang the heighs and howes, an' the cluds throwing innumerable fantastic shadows across the green slopes an' the black ridges; to behold the airy mountain-tops now half buried in mist, then lit up wi' a bright sun, the fore hills sharp and pointed, relieved against a clear an' .cloudless sky, while the distant masses are enveloped in dark gray vapour, whilk adds to their mystic grandeur, and increases their gloomy vastness; it is amang scenes like these whaur the wanderer feels his ain greatness, and his ain littleness, and whaur he may weel exclaim, in the emphatic language o' Scripture, ' It is good for us to be here !' " In this state o' mind, it is also gude to clamber up the steep and craggy mountain, an' explore the druidical remains, biggit at an early age by the heroic sons o' devotion, far apart frae the warld, an' weel fitting for the communing o' spirit wi' spirit, in the magnitude o' immensity. Wha can help here feeling, that ane o' the strongest proofs o' the soul's immor- tality is its seeking an* finding a hame in a' ages amid sic laneliness ; a feeling which is kept up and strengthened, when, after descending frae that wild an' solitary region, thro' lang sheep-tracks, an' footpaths skirted wi' the gowden yellow broom, after opening an' steeking mony wee rustic yetts, an' crossin' mony purlin' streams, ower wee green wooden rustic briggs, we at lang and last reach THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. "THE OLD CHURCH ROAD. READ yon straggling pathway, seen Peeping through the hedgerows green, By the arching willows shaded, By the briar and bramble braided, Where the chequering sunbeams throw Fretted network down below, Glistening 'mid the velvet sod, Woven o'er the Old Church Road. " Hanging footpaths, creeping flowers, Laugh in sun, and weep in showers, Yellow whins and bells of blue, Mingle with the turfs green hue ; While the thistle in his pride Woos the wild rose by his side ; Love and Peace have blest abode In the quiet Old Church Road. " Cross yon ancient Roman bridge, Mark its solitary ridge ; 'Mid its rent and tottering walls, Trees spring, while the structure falls ; So Rome lies in ruins gray, While old Scotia blooms like May ; Here her heroes dauntless strode, Freedom kept the Old Church Road. " Leave the streamlet's silver tide ; Now we'll climb the green hill side, Winding up our wooded way, Peeping through our covert gay, Glints of blue in sky and burn Woo our eye at every turn ; Fancy's fairy feet ne'er trod Pathway like the Old Church Road. THE GABERLUNZIE'S WALLET. " Now we near the Old Church Yard, Where amid the long rank sward Graves are sinking, stones are crumbling, Monuments and aisles are tumbling ; Waving trees with moaning sound Sigh like weeping mourners round, Shading those who wont to plod Weekly by the Old Church Road, " Now the Gothic pile appears Green with moss, and gray with years, Knight and Baron, bold and free, Here have humbly bent the knee, Priest and Monk have chanted praise, Knox hath sung his fervid lays ; Warm hearts, panting after God, Hallow still the Old Church Road. <; See yon Elder hoary grown, Tend the window as his own, And the blooming youthful pair Knit more close in mutual prayer ; What though cold-eyed age may see Childhood in unbridled glee, Wisdom his gray head may nod, Children love the Old Church Road. " Thus while Love lies slumbering mild In this sweet sequester'd wild, Let us rest on this old stile, Let us stay our thoughts awhile, Let us mingle heart and eye With the holy lullaby, Let us frame our peaceful Ode Mid the quiet Old Church Road. " Hail, sweet goddess, gentle Peace ! Soon War's deadly reign shall cease ; Crown'd in glory, soon shalt thou Twine the olive round his brow ; 6 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. Soon shall foolish man be free From all bonds, save Love and thee ; Truth, thy harbinger, abroad, Earth becomes one sweet Church Road." The peaceful solitudes of nature have a tendency at all times to elevate the mind, and lead it to indulge in anticipa- tions of that glorious epoch of human life, 49 When man to man the world o'er Shall brithers be for a' that," a consummation devoutly to be wished. Our wanderer's way of life has not always allowed him to indulge in such felicitous dreams. He has mingled much with man in the great thoroughfares of life, >our densely-populated cities, and in the less frequented, but more strongly marked, localities of our country villages. He has witnessed jocund mirth and squalid misery elbowing each other in our crowded streets ; he has heard the alarm-bell of gossiping slander rung through the little hamlet ; he has seen so many proofs that we take more pleasure in discovering the vices than the virtues of our neighbours, that, at times despairing of the final emancipa- tion of the race, he has set man down as an animal naturally and essentially vicious. Transient, however, are these fits of spleen ; the slightest breath of virtue, gently stealing its way amid the Babel con- fusion of sounds which proceed from the brazen throat of vice, is instantly caught by his harmoniously-attuned ear; a good action, however stealthily performed, rarely escapes his obser- vation, and the shadows of despondency and doubt which may hover over him for a time speedily dissolve into thin air before the rising sun of truth and virtue. Often under the guidance of these benevolent feelings has he perceived, in what are gene- rally considered appalling scenes of wickedness, more that was deserving of pity than of blame. Where others have seen vice only, he has discovered want ; and where they have sternly rebuked, he has kindly relieved. Need we say that, with these propensities, feelings, and principles, our friend finds much to instruct, amuse, and delight him in the pent-up city as well as in the unbounded solitude,; and that nothing affords him more gratification than THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 7 to exchange the stillness of the Old Church Road for the chaotic jumble of a large town. " Tak a walk," says he, " through the High Street o' Auld Reekie, in a cauld snell nicht in the dead o' winter, when puir bodies, toom ap' blae though they be, wi' little wark and sma' provend, hae a' turned out to wair their ' hard won penny fee ' on what will put them ower the following week. The street presents ae moving mass o' brightness an' blackness, o' misery an' merriment. The shops, teeming wi' myriads o j living beings, throw into shade, by their gas-lit brilliancy, the paper- protected lights in the portable warehouses o' the street mer- chants. There is also here to be seen strongly marked grada- tions o' rank, even among the puir. The shop frequenters hae their heads an' feet happit : they wha mak their markets in the streets hae neither. In the ae class there's decency and com- parative comfort ; in the ither, squalid misery an' filthy rags. The shivering beings wha purchase the unwholesome commo- dities vended in the street are often to be seen waited for in the dark stair-foots by some famine-stricken wretch, whas gnawing hunger seizes the first morsel that fate or chance throws in her way. " A wee wean stands at a dark close-mouth, Wi' an ashy cheek an' a watery ee ; An' the rags waffin' round her wad wauken ruth In a far mair stieve-breasted bodie than me. Like a wee starvin' bird on the frozen lea, Her voice is mute an' her head hings law ; Like the shiverin' leaf as it fa's frae the tree Shrinkin' to dow 'mong the drifted snaw Sae the wee thing cow'rs in the chilly blaw. " Ah, waur than the bird in the wintry day In this daughter o' weary want an' sin ! And as in midday the gloamin' gray O'ershadows the hame that she huddles in ; So deep-dyed crime and clamorous din Spreads a dark cloud ower her hapless race ; An' nae lawfu' bread can the wee thing win, Wi' the brand o' shame on her shy wee face : O God ! man has justice, but little grace 1 8 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. " The law, wi' a keen an' hungry growl, Hath strangled its victim, to vengeance due ; An' Poverty glowers wi' a dour-brow'd scowl, While Justice frowns askant and grue. Gae up the dark close, an' gaze till ye rue, Ye friends o' the scaffold, avengers o' crime ! There are rowth o' victims, but penitents few, Alack, there's sma' heat in our soil o' Time ! So repentance maun bloom in a warmer clime. " Thou shak'st like a leaf, and sae shalt thou dow, Wi' thy feckless marrows, my sweet wee bairn ! Till thought sits light on man's godlike brow, An' a lowe o' love melts his heart o' airn, An' bright shall it glow, when men shall learn That it's better to heal than wound the heart ; That mercy is powerful, as vengeance is stern ; That love alone hath the heavenly art, From crime's black breast to pluck the venom'd dart. " Ah, why should there be sic lack o' charity amang us why should some be wallowin' in gluttony, while ithers are deein' o' want ! Nature never made a mou' but she sent a morsel to feed it wi', and there's walth in the warld for us a', were it a' weel wared an' judiciously divided. Yet even here, whaur poortith feeds on poortith, want also helps wretchedness. Look at that cocked-nosed, high-cheeked Hibernian, wha has just been gieing a big bawbee's worth to the wee deein' lookin' lassie ; examine his establishment, and you'll learn that he wha helps anither has maistly as muckle need o' help himsel'. His cart an auld box, wi' twa rough barkit larch trams and a pair o' hurley wheels attached, is slung ower the back o' a lang luggit, bare baned, beld skinned wee cuddy, standing close to the plainstanes, quietly mumping some green blades. A bare- headed, bare-fitted urchin, clad in an auld pair o' knee-breikums, an' a coat that might hae ance been his grandfaither's, sits squatted on the grund, feeding the cuddy, an' ever an' anon gies it some touching proofs o' his affection, by throwing his arms round its neck, while the humanized quadruped whisks its skeleton tail, cocks its lugs, pushes its face into his hand, and expresses its sense o' the kindness o' its provider. They are baith o' the same household, baith foster brothers, the laddie THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 9 looes the faither that works, and the dumb brute that toils for him ; and there are scenes in high life no containing sae muckle pure sentiment as is to be found in the hame o' that travelling Hibernian merchant. " Green-hearted auld fool that I am, here am I now in the middle o' a rollickin' set o' bairns, as merry a group o' raggit little urchins as e'er were seen thegither ; they are a' o' ae family, and hae come out to spend their Saturday night's bawbee ae bawbee amang the seven. The auldest carries a lumbering lout o' a blubbering boy, wha wi' his finger thrust in his mouth keeps roarin lustily ; in they a' stumble into a dim and dingy sweety shop; the purchase is made, they a' examine it, the lolaby screams at the tap o' his voice, the gundy-monger orders them off, an' awa they scamper doun the next close, as weel pleased wi' the bawbee purchase as if they held a lottery prize. Little merry creatures, dwell on this moment o' felicity ; many enjoyments in after-life ye may hae, but few that will be relished so sweetly as the morsel now to be divided amang ye ! " Here also are to be seen the stark form and blate look o' the out-door labourer, and black murky face o' the brent-browed artisan, a' playing the part o' capitalists for ae little hour ; their thrifty wives prigging, and striving, and scheming to gar the limited an' scanty weekly allowance gang as far as they can towards the comfort o' the weans at hame. " 'Aye the weans cry crowdie, crowdie, Crowdie mammy, crowdie mae, Till the wee but hungry totts Hae crowdied a' the meal away.' " Here the puir widow is likewise seen struggling hard to con- ceal her wants, and aften smothering, by her bashfu' forbearance, the charity which she might easily awaken. Tears well nae frae the dried-up springs o' a broken heart. Decent pride can ill stoop to beg, an' mony a desolate widow wad rather dee o' want than let the warld ken her necessities. " Let us in the meantime, however, leave this emporium o' character, wi' its lang an' tempting array o' penny-shows, ballad- singers, speech-criers, baskets o' laces, combs, caps, shoe-ties, an' twopenny mirrors, wi' hurleys fu' o' cherry-cheekit apples an' brown speldings, and let us visit twa friends o' mine in their quiet quarters. Nae solitude in the country is half sae quiet as in the middle o' a big town ; and there are few bodies that the warld ken or care less about than THE GABERLUNZIE'S WALLET. "THE SPUNK SPLITTERS* OUN a steep crookit close, lowering, ourie and grim, Whatir the windows are few, and the lichts are dim, Whaur twa winkin' lamps in the keen frosty nicht Send up their lang columns o' dim smeekit licht, And the heigh hoary houses, maist meetin' aboon, Keep out ilka blink o' the red fozzy moon, There's ae window shines thro' the dark- ness sae dun That's the name o' auld Dumpie and Duncan her son. " There's a strong gurly blast, tho' its no frae the south, Ne'er mind, but slip into the dark entry mouth, And step up ae storey, nor marvel ye sair, Tho' close by your lug a bit donkey should rair ; Nor heed, when you get to the storey aboon, Tho' some squeekin' grumphies in concert may croon ; Ne'er fash, but bolt up like the shot o' a gun, Till ye win up to Dumpie and Duncan her son. " Yet while ye're gaun up to see what's gaun on there, Tak tent o' your feet in that worn windin' stair : Nor cower for that tyke wi' its lang eerie howl, Nor swarf for that cat, wi' its starved wailing yowl, Nor the wee whingin' wean, skyting doun wi' a skirl, Nor the half open door, dauded to wi' a dirl ; Up up to the garret, I'll wad ye get fun, Gif ance ye reach Dumpie and Duncan her son. * The profession of spunk (Anglic^ matches) splitting is now at an end. The worthy members thereof must now have sought another mode of living ; and the gaberlunzie having seen the decay of his own order, about the same time when " German lucifers," and a whole legion of " infernals, " had put an end to the spunk-splitting and brimstone-dipping vocation, it naturally follows, that he should take a deep interest in the fate of "Dumpie and Duncan her son." THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. n " Ne'er mind tho' auld Dumps, when ye rap at the door, May bid ye gae wa', wi' a gruff girnin' roar ; Her bark's no her bite, sae ne'er mind ye her din, But lift up the sneck and pap cannily in : Put on your best specks if ye're short in the sight, Shut out a' the dark, and let in a' the light, And finish the picture that I hae begun, For now ye see Dumpie and Duncan her son. " But just for their sakes wha might hae to come far, To ken what this couple o' queer bodies are, And might think him a beggar, and her an auld hunks, I may hint that the bodies are thrang splittin' spunks, That they're aft scant o' meat, and sair scrimpit o' claes, That they've warsled right sair wi' the warld a' their days. Yet aye wi' their ain hands their living they've won ; O wha loes nae Dumpie and Duncan her son. " The last whiles are first ; there's an Eye up aboon, Tho' we seldom look up, never tires lookin' doon, That taks a' the feckless aye under its ken, The wee hungry birds, and the weak sons o' men; That Eye shedding radiance o'er nature afar, Illuming each planet, and lighting each star, While sparkling with glory it kindles the sun, Lights the lown hearts o' Dumpie and Duncan her son." It is possible that the circle of the Gaberlunzie's admirers may be much circumscribed by his ballads generally being so peculiarly Scottish in dialect, and his sketches of character frequently drawn from what is fashionably termed low life. We would, however, fain believe that the world is now getting heartily sick of the torrent of Cockney slang with which it has long been deluged, and that the public would rather have some other text-book to regulate their morals than the Newgate Calendar, even although paraphrased by the most popular periodical writers of the day. Entertaining these views, we shall be disappointed if the out-door freshness of honest, humble Scottish life, and the kindly homeliness of the Scottish tongue, be not sufficiently interesting to attract the attention of a very considerable proportion of the reading and thinking 12 THE GABERLUNZIE S WALLET. community. Our hero seems of a similar opinion, when he exclaims, u Wha wad I sing anent if I didna sing o' my ain class, 'a fellow feeling maks us wondrous kind;' an' they wha, when ilk ither door was steekit, made me aye welcome to halve their bed an' their bicker, weel merit a' the notice I can gie them. We a' hae our shortcomings an' our fauts ; yet weel I trow there are fewer vices an' mair virtues amang the puir than the warld weel wots o', an' the gangrel bodies among whilk I hae spent the buik o' my life hae baith pith an' poetry amang them. Blessings attend the meal-pock that feeds, an' the barn that beds them ; like the widow's cruise and barrel, they shall baith be the fou'er." With regard to the dialect, he observes, " Dinna ye be alarmed ; if the ballads are worth reading, our Southern neighbours will soon find out the mean- ing o' the braidest word in them ; besides, ye ken we are the true conservatives o' the auld stieve Saxon tongue, and mony bonny words lang reputed an' believed to be Scotticisms are to be found in the writings o' the fathers o' English sang, and are now restored to the place they are sae weel entitled to haud in the language spoken by the greatest nation on the face o' the yirth. Ah !" again exclaims he, with strong emphasis, " therein consists the peculiar glory o' Scotland, she's sae fond o' auld associations auld feelings auld songs auld friends an' auld lang syne, and there's little danger that sae lang as she keeps up her auld character, her noble sister England will ever forsake or forget her ; friendly as they hae lang been, every day knits them closer. Mony o' the bonny fair-haired English lassies hae learnt Burns, maist o' them hae read Scott, an' aiblins some o' them will throw a blythe blink o' their ee on the sayings o' the Gaberlunzie. Mony auld stories, sangs, and ballants hae I gathered anent the ancient feudal families o' our native country, that will aiblins baith amuse and interest them. Dinna ye think that I hae been piping, an' fiddling, an' singing, an' story-telling, amang the halls an' the cottages o' Scotland half a century for naething. Far hae I travelled wi' a bare back an' a hungry heart, but aften when the stock b' provend for the bodie was sma', the mind got abundant food for reflec- tion. The common sufferings o' humanity mak us a' common brithers, an' the sorrowfu' heart has aften gotten relief, by pouring its plaint into the ear o' the Gaberlunzie. Bronze- browed, ruddy-cheeked, and hale-hearted as I am, these gray THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 13 locks camna without grief, these furrows didna gather without tears. Yet the colour o' the hair's no worth minding, an' the corners o' my een are mair wrinkled wi' laughin', than the corners o' my mou' wi' girnin' j so here's a sang anent ane o' my ain exploits in the days o' yore. Some auld wives living yet (then the flowers o' the village) may mind it brawly; an' aiblins while their bosoms are heezed up wi' a momentary recollection o' those early days, they will tell how weel they then relished the free an' hearty smacks o' THE AULD BEGGAR MAN. HE auld cripple beggar cam jumpin, jumpin, Hech how the bodie was stumpin, stumpin, His wee wooden leggie was thumpin, thumpin- Saw ye e'er sic a queer auld man ? An' aye he hirpled and hoastit, hoastit, Aye he stampit his foot, and he boastit, Ilka woman and maid he accostit Saw ye e'er sic a queer auld man ? " The auld wives cam hirplin in scores frae the clachan, The young wives cam rinnin, a' gigglin an' lauchin, The bairnies cam toddlin a' jinkin an' daffin, An' pookit the tail o' the queer auld man. Out cam the young widows a' blinkin fu' meekly, Out cam the young lasses a' smirkin fu' sweetly, Out cam the auld maidens a' bobbin discreetly, . An' gat a bit smack frae the queer auld man. " Out cam the big blacksmith, a' smeekit and duddy, Out cam the fat butcher, a' greasy and bluidy, Out cam the auld cartwright, the wee drucken bodie, An' swore they would flaughter the queer auld man. Out cam the lang weaver, wi' his biggest shuttle, Out cam the short snab, wi' his sharp cutty whittle, Out cam the young herd, wi' a big tattie beetle, An' swore they would batter the queer auld man. I, THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. " The beggar he coost aff his wee wooden peg, An' he show'd them a brawny sturdy leg ; I wat but the carle was strappin an' gleg Saw ye e'er sic a brisk auld man ? He thumpit the blacksmith hame to his wife ; He dumpit the butcher, wha ran for his life ; He chased the wee wright wi' the butcher's sharp knife Saw ye e'er sic a brave auld man ? " He puff 'd on the weaver, he ran to his loom ; He shankit the snab hame to cobble his shoon ; He skelpit the herd, on his bog-reed to croon Saw ye e'er sic a strong auld man ? The wives o' the toun then a' gather'd about him, An' loudly an' blithely the bairnies did shout him ; They hooted the loons wha had threaten'd to clout him Kenn'd ye e'er sic a lucky auld man ? " THE AULD BEGGAR MAN. -^j^i^^^^i^g The auld cripple "beggar cam jumpin, jumpin, Hech how the bodie was ^^=j*E$3^g=^^^- stumpin, stumpin, His wee wooden leggie was thumpin', thumpin' ; Saw ye e'er sic a queer auld man ? An' aye he hirpled, and 3= % *+- i hoast - it, hoast - it. Aye he stampit his foot, and he boastit, t Jlk- a woman and maid he ac-cost-it, Saw ye e'er sic a queer auld man ? THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 15 NOTE. MY readers must not expect in the following pages a highly- wrought, spirit-stirring story, but a plain narrative of facts, in so far as these tend to develop the character introduced. Firmly believing that Nature is supreme, I shall endeavour at all times to avoid extravagance, satisfied that sketches faithfully given are better than exaggerated pictures, however highly finished. The practice of producing excitement by ransacking the records of crime is, I think, to be condemned ; and I am persuaded that it will further the cause we ought all to have in view, namely, the promotion of brotherly kindness, and the elevation of moral sentiment, to draw our illustrations of life from Character, not from Crime, and to exhibit the beauties of Virtue, rather than the deformities of Vice. 1 6 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. CHAPTER I. Bleak blaws the blast across the muir, Fleet flees the whirling drift, An' pelting hailstones, snell an' dour, Dash frae the choakit lift : Thick smooring wreaths o' snaw are cast Upon the stormy lea ; The wanderer bends before the blast, An' lays him doun to dee : God shield us a'. Old Ballad. CARNWATH MUIR, or the " Lang Whang," as that portion of it is called to which we have occasion more particularly to allude, is situated in the Upper Ward of Lanarkshire; and although our Scottish farmers, by dint of hard labour and persevering industry, have succeeded in driving cultivation to the very hill-tops in many parts of our naturally sterile country, and are daily making inroads in every direction on this ancient soil, and a few green crofts, with patches of corn, are to be seen rising here and there, still they form but a small pro- portion of this extensive morass, the greater part of which has lain undisturbed since the Flood, and, to the eye of a tra- veller, presents a very dreary and desolate appearance. Immense tracks of brown muirland stretch around you in every direction, adorned, it is true, with bright and beautiful heather, but affording scanty subsistence to the straggling sheep thinly scattered over its surface. Nothing in the shape of a human habitation is to be met with for miles, and with the exception of the hollow sound of the little rill, stealing along through the soft velvet course in the bosom of the black moss under which it is hurried, the solitary cry of a plover on the distant hills, or the husky whirr of a blackcock as he brushes past you on the wing, there is nothing living or moving with which you can claim acquaintance or feel sympathy. Never- theless this district is not destitute of interest to an enthusiastic THE GABERLUNZIE'S WALLET. 17 Scotsman. There are here and there to be seen clumps of trees and ruined gables, favouring the idea that at one period some of our feudal families may here have had their abode ; a supposition strengthened by the fact, that many of the small farm-houses lying amidst the brown muirs are dignified with high-sounding and characteristic Scotch names. As might be expected in such a secluded region, the people are primitive in their habits, and simple in their manners; the men are robust, bony, and muscular; the women blooming, tall, and graceful. The small farm system is here in full operation; the farmers and their servants, working and eating together, are upon the most familiar and intimate footing ; and it is a very common occurrence for the herd to marry his employer s daughter. Whatever effects this free and friendly intercourse between the employer and employed might have in more artificial states of society, certain it is that, in this natural and unsophisticated mode of life, it is productive of the most beneficial results labour is lightened by such cheering en- couragement, and the servant is anxiously alive at all times to the interest of an employer who treats him as if he were his fellow, and whose family regard him as if he were one of themselves. This principle of mutual assistance being usually acted on, operates very beneficially among all the members of this widely-scattered community. They have little intercourse with the world, and shut up among themselves, they get through the most toilsome operations with comparative ease, assisting each other in ploughing, reaping, sowing, and draining, with the greatest readiness ; and in the words of one of their own songs, exclaiming " What tho' we're few upon the muir, We lo'e each other mair ; And to the weary wandering puir, We've comfort aye to spare." Novel as the character of the people and scenery may appear to the eye of a traveller, forming, as they both do, a striking con- trast to the more refined circles of life, and the better cultivated portions of the country, still the muir is dreary, even in midsum- mer, and doubly so in the dead of winter, when snow and drift have completely covered the flat face of the country, and the hills lie like giants in their winding-sheets. At such a time did the Gaberlunzie and I once cross it, on our way to a farm-house B 1 8 THE GABERLUNZI&S WALLET. occupied by an old friend and acquaintance of my companion's. The air was raw and piercing, chilling everything that it touched in that high district. There > had been a heavy fall of snow some days previously, and it lay deep, but crisp and hard, so that we had a comparatively firm footing. We had passed along for some miles without having seen either herd's cot or farmhouse, when we were somewhat alarmed to see the sky assume that gray marled colour, which, as the Gaberlunzie observed, " boded a fresh storm brewing in the lift." Much fatigued in attempting to keep up with his now accelerated pace, and eager to introduce some topic that might excite his attention, and cause him to slacken his speed, I opened a conversation respecting the comforts of our English neighbours, and con- trasted their light and sunny clime with our own bleak and sterile country. With regard to the latter, I observed that it had often appeared strange to me how so much heart work had been carried on, and so many love songs sung in a climate fit to freeze the warmest blood that ever flowed in veins. I shall never forget the scornful scowl he gave me. " Gae wa," says he, " ye landlouper, and stay in the land ye lo'e best ; the bonny braes o' Scotland, the gray skies, the brown muirs an' the heathery hills, for me whaur the kindly heart an' the couthie hame gang thegither whaur the door is ne'er steekit on poortith, nor the ear deaf to the calls of affliction whaur mirth is lightsome an* glee harmless whaur the pure lowe o' luve and freendship blaze brightly thegither whaur, like the bracing mountain breeze, feeling is ever fresh, and thought is ever new whaur the burr-thistle that crowns the mountain's brow counts kin wi' the gowden gowans and silver bells that glisten amang the bonny green sward o' the glens and dells whaur the gray-haired rocks heave their heigh pows ower the merry-hearted waters that babble along, night and day, singing themsel's to sleep. What marvel is it that the peasantry of such a country, devout and full of heroism, should send forth from amongst them, at different periods, and under varied circum- stances, a Wallace, a Burns, and a Knox. Surely the fountain o' sang can never rin dry here, the web o' story can ne'er be worn oot, and until trees winna grow, and water winna row, there shall be, as there has been, a braid and ample field for pictures and songs, wherever there are hearts and heads qualified to conceive or enjoy them; even here, in sic a day as this, I THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 19 could sing. Look there," said he, as we passed a rudely enclosed churchyard, which was all covered up and levelled with snow, the few upright head-stones indicating by their curved outlines to his experienced eye their respective locali- ties, " on such a day as this, forty years ago, I saw the follow- ing scene." And in a broad and deep-set tone of voice, which rang across the frozen muir with a powerful effect, he recited THE SNAWY KIRKYARD. A' nature lay dead, save the cauld whistlin blast That chilled the bleak earth to the core as it passed, And heaved in high ridges the thick chokin drift That cam in wreathed swirls frae the white marled lift ; And winter's wild war wearied baith heart and ee, As we warstled richt sair, ower the drear muirland lea, And our feet skyted back on the road freezing hard, As we wended our way to the Snawy Kirkyard. Oh ! a' thing seemed dead even the skeleton trees Were shivering like death in the grasp of the breeze ; And the hills that in sunshine towered proudly on high, Seemed shrinking in fear frae the wrath-covered sky ; Nor birdie, nor beast, could the watery ee scan, A' were cowerin in corners, save grief-laden man ; Tho' the heart may be broken, the best maun be spared To make up a wreath in the Snawy Kirkyard. The wee muirland kirk, whaur the pure Word o' God Mak's warm the cauld heart, and mak's light the lang road, Whaur alang the brown footpaths, when summer blooms green, The plaids, gowns, and bonnets like wild-flowers were seen ; The sly hillside yill-house, whaur lasses meet lads, Whaur herds leave their collies, and lairds tie their yauds, Kirk-bell and house riggin, the white drift has squared, But there's ae yawning grave in the Snawy Kirkyard. When the coffin is shut, tho' the mourner may moan, The dead winna keep, and we're calm when they're gone ; For the colourless cheek, and the lustreless eye, Are all fitting trophies of death's victory ; We shrink from the sound of the first dirling clod, We long till the grave's covered up wi' the sod ; But skulls grinning ghastly amarig the green sward, Grin ghastlier still in a Snawy Kirkyard. 20 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. Through a' the hale parish, nae elder was known That was likit by a' like my grandfather John ; O drear was that day when we bore him awa, Wi' his gowd stores o' thought, and his haffits o' snaw ; And the strong and the feeble, the timid and brave, Cam through the black storm to lay him in his grave ; I was then a wee callant, rose cheek't and gowd-hair'd, When I laid his auld pow in the Snawy Kirkyard. weel do I mind, though its lang, lang sinsyne, And the world since* has cooled this then warm heart o' mine; Yet whiles, when I think on these times lang gane by, Saft thoughts soothe my soul, and sweet tears dim my eye, 1 see the auld man, when he clapp'd my wee head, While a sigh heaved his breast for my faither lang dead ; He nursed me, he schooled me ; how can I regard But wi' warm gushing heart tears a Snawy Kirkyard ? Now age wi' his hoar-frost has crispit my pow And my locks, ance sae gowden, are silvery now ; And tho' I can boast neither station nor power, I hae health for my portion, and truth for my dower ; For my hand hath been open, my heart hath been free, To dry the moist tear drops frae sorrow's dull ee ; And mony puir bodies my wallet hae shared, 'Twas my counsel frae him in the Snawy Kirkyard. In his breast there was love, in his soul there was grace, That could aye in frail nature some sma' virtue trace ; In soothing sad sorrow, in calming mad mirth, His breath, like the south wind, strewed balm on the earth ; And weary souls laden wi' grief aft were driven To seek comfort frae him, wha aye led them to Heaven ; Oh ! sweet were the seeds sown, and rich was the braird That sprung frae that stock in the Snawy Kirkyard ! THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 21 But now the storm which had lain hushed, as if listening to a chant so much akin with itself, burst forth in fearful fury. The snow, which had been gradually softening, now gathered itself into masses, and rushed across the muir with the stifling thickness of a simoom. The ocean of drift thus rapidly whirled around completely shut us up in darkness, and the only method of defence we could adopt was to wedge ourselves firmly together, draw our bonnets over our brows, wrap our plaids firmly around us, and stand stock-still. After having thus sus- tained many rough and furious shocks from the densely-charged blast, we at length got a partial glimpse of something like gray daylight, although, from the state of the air, it was evident that only a temporary calm could be expected. Keeping as near as we could to the high points which had been swept clean, although at times we were nearly buried to the necks in some of the snow-covered and white-faced hollows, we at last with much exertion reached the farm-house of Kelpie Cleugh, the residence of Thomas Braxholme, a muirland farmer, where we were welcomed with all the kindness for which that worthy was proverbial. The exterior of the house presented a mean appearance, compared with some of the modern edifices of our lowland farmers. The dwelling-house, out-houses, byre, stable, and dairy, were all on one line, and contained only a ground- floor. A huge peat-stack stood at the back, and a pig-sty at the end of the building. Two or three stunted trees, of ancient growth, rose on a circular knoll before the house, and there were the ruins of an old castle on the adjoining eminence, which, together with an old pigeon-house, a few stacks of corn, and a huge rick of meadow hay, completed the exterior pic- ture, so far as it could be seen through the snow, already drifted up to the sills of the small boles dignified with the name of windows. The rustic bridge, too, which crossed the frozen burn, was battered breast deep, and completely bedded in snow. Altogether the scene was so forbidding, and the blast so cold and scowling, that when the hospitable door was opened, and we were welcomed into the snug and comfortable kitchen, it was as if we had escaped from death to life, while the feeling which pervaded the whole interior presented a delightful contrast to the dreary desolation without. The fanner himself sat in an arm-chair, his limbs encased in strong gray rig-and-fur hoggers, his head covered with a Kil- 22 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. marnock cowl. The goodwife was watching the progress of a huge potful of potatoes, which hung suspended by the old- fashioned iron crook, from a beam that crossed the aperture, through which the clear smoke of the Carnwath Muir black peat rose heavily and slowly. One daughter was spinning at the old-fashioned Scotch wheel, and the other busy knitting, whilst the son was poring over a volume of Burns. The farmer, a " muirland man of uplands mak," rose on our entrance, and insisted on my companion taking his own chair. The goodwife, with a pale silvery face, which must have been at one time singularly beautiful, and a manner which denoted a refined and superior mind, received us with marked kindness. The young farmer, a tall, manly, and powerfully built youth, closed his book, and welcomed his old friend with both mouth and eyes. The two fair-haired blue-eyed girls arose blushing, as if he knew all their thoughts, and evidently longing for a quiet banter with the " Queer Auld Man " who knew everything ; even the colley, wagging his tail, and pushing his long nose forward, laid his head on the old man's knee, and sat down sagely and quietly gazing in his face, as if fully comprehending every change of expression. The whole interior of the apartment was arranged with taste, The shelf-ful of pewter shone like silver; the brass-handled awmrie was polished like a mirror; the press-bed doors, stools, tables, and other furniture, although formed only of common fir, and ridged with marks of age, looked remarkably clean ; while the white earthen floor, illumined by the cheerful light of the well heaped fire-place, shone bright and tidy ; and altogether it was impossible to conceive a more cheerful ingle-side, or a more delightful circle. We had scarcely exchanged compliments, when another traveller entered, apparently more dead than alive, and bending beneath a large wooden box or pack ; he also seemed a welcome guest, and, as usual on all such occasions in Scotland, was saluted by his full name. " Come awa, Peter Pinglepenny," said the farmer, " come awa ; but how hae ye managed to drag your sma' carcase, and that muckle box, through the snaw ? 'Od man, your soul maun hae mair in't than your body, or ye ne'er could hae cruppen through the drift wi' sic a lift. You maun hae wormed your road through the snaw like a mole screwing a' the way." " Indeed, gudeman," said the Gaberlunzie, "Peter has been THE GABERLUNZIE S WALLET. 23 a screw a' his days, and he'll no rest till he has either screwed himser into a coffin, or some bit biggin o' his ain, whaur he will mak siller, live respected, and dee regretted. Come awa, ye hap o' my thum, ye walking post-bag, ye paidling newspaper, and tell us a' the outgauns, incomings, dounpoorins, and aff- coupins in the parish ; what fairs, waddins, and trysts ye hae been at ; what sights ye hae seen, what clashes ye hae heard, what bogles, witches, ghaists, and brownies ye hae banished, what kelpies ye hae drowned ; out wi' your lang whud, dinna be feared for the auld Gaberlunzie." But Peter, who was evidently dexterous at warding off these side blows, and accustomed to this species of bantering, replied " Eh, man, I thought ye wad hae been the first to wish me joy on my escape frae that storm, in whilk mony weary wan- derers will meet their death ere mornin. I hae nae experienced onything like it since that nicht in my laddie days when I lost my pack in this same muir, and after wanderin aboot a' day and nicht in this snawy solitude, I crap doun this very lum, whaur I was treated as if I had been your ain son restored to you. I never can nor will forget that, nor how the Gaberlunzie, sitting in the same chair there, wi' his sparklin ee, and his jinglin wallet, was the first to help me to get a new pack. Since then I hae aye gane on my way rejoicin, ne'er looking ower my shouther, and I would hae likit ill to hae left my bit box, the bairn o' your ain fondling, lying in the snaw ; this was what nerved me to warstle wi' the foul-brewed storm, and to bring safe wi' me here for my dawties, the bonny young lassies, Nanny and Mary, the brawest, the newest, and the cheapest ribbons in the kingdom." u Come noo, Peter, nane o' your whilywhaaing nonsense e'enow," said the goodman ; " nae sooner hae ye gotten yerse? planted lownly by the ingle-cheek nor ye begin to pawn yere trash on the bits o' glaikit lassies, wha will tug at my pouch-strings, and wheedle me till they get me to wair on them a* the bits o' )awbees I have left ower after paying our Martinmas rent. Ye lae little need to do onything o' the kind ; this winter has set in on us early and snelly, and I'll hae aneugh ado to warstle through, without throwing awa siller on your nick-nack thin feckless happins." " Hoot, noo," said Peter, " gudeman, ye were ance young yersel', an' likit braws as weel's your neighbours. Mony a day 24 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. hae ye gane to Dunsyre Kirk in the deed o' winter, decked out in your yellow waistcoat and your wabs o' ruffles, when ye wantit to catch the ee o' your ain bonny lassie ; an' aiblins had ye no done that, for a' your good looks and your manly mak, ye couldna hae carried hame the sweetest an' the bonniest bride in a' the parish. I'm sure, gudewife, ye winna be against me showing the lassies my transparent gauze napkins, that are baith light an 7 warm ; they've been smuggled ower frae France. I gat them a dead bargain, an' ye shall hae them at what they cost me." So saying, he was about to open up his stock for exhibition, but was stopped by a peculiar look from the Gaberlunzie, who commenced chanting PATIE THE PACKMAN. TUNE " Ower the water to Charlie." O' a' the slee bodies that ever I saw, The sleeist was Patie the Packman ; I'll lay ye my lugs, ere he let ye awa, Ye'll hae cause to mind Patie the Packman ; He's a' outs an' ins, he's a' heads an' thraws, He's a sharp-pointed humph on his back man ; While a brass-banded box filled wi' uncas an* braws, Smooths the hummie o' Patie the Packman. THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 25 He trots oot an' in, he rins here and there, He's been at the moon, an's come back, man ; At bridal, at kirkin, at market, or fair, Ye'll never miss Patie the Packman. He's a j gate, kens a' thing, sae dinna ye think Ye'll ever get out o 1 his track, man ; Gin e'er your beglommered wi' love or wi' drink, Ye'll be nailed by slee Patie the Packman. In the bony grey gloamin, adown the green lane, Gin ye tak yere ain lassie to walk, man, When ye fain wad sit down on the auld mossy stane, There sits little Patie the Packman. Or gin the moonlicht wiles ye out 'mang the braird, Or sets ye ayont the haystack, man, What's sure to come hoastin across the barnyard, But " How are ye ?" frae Patie the Packman. Or whan the auld wives idly girn out their lives, An' their noddles are a' on the rack, man, Gin ony has seen Jockie crackin wi' Jean, They are seen by slee Patie the Packman. He is sleek in the tongue, he is gleg in the een, He is aye in the way for a crack, man ; An' there's never a knot o' true gossipers seen, But there chatters Patie the Packman. Be 't braws for the body, or food for the mind, Be 't gown, ribbon, ballant, or tract, man, Ye 're sure to get a' ye are wantin to find, In the stowed box o' Patie the Packman. The lasses gaun glaikit for men or for dress, The bairnies a' skirlin for "black man;" E'en wee buffy Jock, an' his daft titty Bess, A' yaummer for Patie the Packman. And he stots aye about, wi' his tongue and his pack, Ye ne'er catch him wairin a plack, man, Till a braw merchant's shop opens up in a crack, And there stands slee Patie the Packman. 26 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. Its gude to be pawkie, its braw to be odd, I'll no say slee Patie's a quack, man ; But mony wha fain wad tak up a' the road, Maun mak room for slee Patie the Packman. The farmer applauded this song with all his might, chuckling and rubbing his hard horny hands together with great glee, and exclaiming, " 'Od man, ye hae hit aff Peter till a shavin ; that's nearly as gude as your sang about me, made some score years since. Ah ! I was a wild stark wight then, but gudewife," said he, chucking her under the chin, " ye hae made a douce man and a staid faither o' the wild roving hellicat ' Braxy Tarn.' Mony a time do I thank Heaven for the gift, altho' whaur you and your gray-haired faither cam frae is mair than I ever could yet find oot ; ye were ne'er like ony here aboots, for there aye was a something aboot ye that charmed a'body, and aften it lookit strange that the same year ye cam to the muir, Gaber- lunzie cam too, and a thocht has often struck me ye kenned something anent her, ye auld pauky loon, although, God help me ! it maun just hae been a dream o' my daft pow, but we'll aiblins ken about it a' by and by; and to keep us in mind o' auld langsyne, ye'll maybe gie us ' Braxy Tarn.' " Whereupon the wandering minstrel, exchanging glances with the goodwife, and nothing loath to escape from the interrogations of the worthy farmer, set off with BAULD BRAXY TAM. O BAULD Braxy Tarn, he lives far in the west, Whaur the dreary Lang Whang heaves its brown heather crest; He's bauld as a lion, though calm as a lamb I rede ye nae rouse him, our bauld Braxy Tam. The strang stalwart loon wons upon the hill-tap, In a peat-biggit shieling wi' thin theekit hap Yet he ne'er wants a braxy, nor gude reestit ham, And snell is the stamack o' bauld Braxy Tam. See how his straught form, 'midst the storm-flicker'd lift, Stalks athwart the bleak muir, thro' the dark wreaths o' drift ; While the wowff o' the colley or bleat o' the ram, Are beacons o' light to guide bauld Braxy Tam. THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. When April comes in aye sae sleety and chill, And mony young lammie lies dead on the hill, Though missed by its owner, and left by its dam, It's gude gusty gear to ould bauld Braxy Tarn. Tho' some o' us think he gets mair than eneugh, That he finds them himseP whilk he cast in the heugh ; The bauldest amang us maun keep our sough calm He's a lang luggit deevil, our bauld Braxy Tarn. He ne'er parts wi' master, nor master wi' him, When the headsman looks sulky, the herdsman looks grim ; Syne they souther a' up wi' a flyte and a dram, For Tarn's like the master, the master's like Tarn. 27 Thro' a' our braid muirlands sae stunted and brown, There's nane fear'd nor lo'ed like the hellicat loon ; Our fair freckled maidens feel mony love dwaum, When milking the ewes o' our bauld Braxy Tarn. 28 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. For the wild-roving rogue has the gled in his ee, Twa three-neukit ee-brees aye louping wi' glee, Wi' a black bushy beard, and a liquory gam, O ! wha wad be kittled by bauld Braxy Tarn ! At the low'n ingle-cheek in the lang winter night, Tarn's welcomed wi' pleasure aye mingled wi' fright ; Queer sangs and ghaist stories a' thro' ither cram, In the big roomy noddle o' bauld Braxy Tarn. Then the weans coor in neuks frae the fancy-raised ghaist, And ilk lad faulds his arm round his ain lassie's waist ; The auld folks gaebed in an ill-natured sham, But the young gape till midnight round bauld Braxy Tarn. They would fain hae him married his courage to cowe, For he's fickle's the clouds, though he's het as the lowe ; He courts a' the lasses without e'er a qualm, Yet for nane by anither cares bauld Braxy Tarn ; But a puir auld sheep-farmer cam here to the muir, Wi' a daughter as fair as her faith er is puir ; She's pure as the dewdrap, an' sweet as the balm, And she's won the stout heart o' our bauld Braxy Tarn. During the singing of this song, " Braxy Tarn " had evidently got mounted on his ancient hobby, and the scenes of his youth- ful years were all dancing in bright array before him. The dreary nights he had spent alone on the hillside, or on the desolate muir ; the furious winter blasts he had braved, in guid- ing the poor sheep and cattle to some shelter from the storm ; the merry meetings among the hills between the lads and lasses on sheep-shearing and ewe-milking occasions ; together with the fireside circles he had enlivened, all arose as if by magic. Many faces long since faded away, even from the eye of memory, grew bright, and smiled fondly upon him in his waking dream, until he almost imagined that the buoyancy of youth had returned, and that he was as light-hearted and merry as ever. But boisterous mirth and rapturous joy fly away at the approach of age, and the glowing warmth of youthful affec- tion becomes mellowed and softened by time into a less excit- ing, but perhaps more pleasing emotion. Yet the mind in this state will over and over again recur to those romantic days THE GABERLUNZIE' S WALLET. 29 which were the forerunners of a long series of happy years ; and under the influence of this feeling, at the termination of the song, the honest and warm-hearted farmer exclaimed, " Aye, ye auld saul, now when I think on't, ye had a hand in makin my wifie and me acquaint when she cam here awa ; and she has proved the best bargain I e'er fell in wi'. Heaven bless ye baith !" " Weel, gudeman," said the Gaberlunzie, " it's a gude thing ye whiles gie me your benison, for ye're as aften bannin as blessing, but them wha ken ye best think the tane's as gude as the tither." " 'Deed," said the Packman, " they wad be ungrateful wha mind muckle what the gudeman says when his birse is up. Like a' honest-hearted folk, his noddle gets up like a tap o' tow, but his bark's waur than his bite ; and they wha get the bite should be blithe to tak the buffet alang wi't." " Gae wa', ye whuppersnapper," said the farmer, " what for will ye be sticking your ellwand into my ribs, and oiling my lugs wi' your slippery tongue at that rate ? How come ye to place my honoured friend, the Gaberlunzie, on a level wi' yoursel' ; he's neither a beggar o' awmons, nor a vendor o' sma' wares like you ? He comes blinkin ben wi' his blithesome countenance, an' the hale house is foil o' light ; he gangs, and he leaves us a' in darkness ; he reads us mony a lecture that's no easily forgottin ; he sings us sangs that gaur a' our bosoms quiver; and he tells us stories 'o' the deeds o' our forefathers, that gaur our hearts burn within us ; besides a' this, I'm muckle mair indebted to him than e'er I can repay ; and " Hoot, man, Tarn," said the Gaberlunzie, " what need ye be blusterin and routin at that rate ; there's nae use in a' the warld kennin what's between you an' me ; ye were misca'ing Peter for his slippery mou e'enow, an' ye're just as ill yoursel' ; it doesna become a farmer like you to lower yoursel' to a puir Gaberlunzie. What would the warld think to see or hear o't ?" " A fiddlestick for what the warld says or thinks ! wad ye sew up my tongue, like a needle in a pock, when it has sic an itch for waggin an' canna lie still, mair especially when I see your auld honoured face, 'an think o' bygane times, ca'd up e'enow by the sang ye sung ; besides, is there no a mystery hinging round ye and my bonny wee dame (for she's as bonny in my een as ever) ? Are ye no baith rowed up in mystery ? Weel 30 THE GABERLUNZI&S WALLET. do I mind that eerie time when her auld faither dee'd, an' ye took her and our first-born, then a wean, to Edinburgh, and keepit them awa frae me for a hale month. Od, I maistly tint my wits then, and my heart gat sae fou that it loupit and duntit till it burst forth in a sang, the humrmn o ? whilk eased my mind, and pleased her an' the weans mony a long day after that." Here was an opportunity for Peter which he could not resist. He knew this was one of the points on which the farmer was most easily flattered. He had seen enough of human nature to know, that nothing will rouse a man's vanity so readily as dignifying him with the name of Poet. He knew well that this was the first and the last of our worthy host's efforts at song- making, and that it was prized all the more on that account. Accordingly he began with "Ay, that's a sang that does honour to yoursel' an* your country. Rabbie Burns an' Jamie Hogg didna carry awa a' the poetry and sang on their shouthers; they left twa-three stray sprouts growing, and, among the lave, a sturdy burr-thistle in the middle o' Carnwath Muir. Indeed, gudeman, had ye continued as ye began, ye wad hae riven baith their raughens : and I trow I'm only askin what wud delight a' here, and this strange gentleman in parti- cular, when I ask ye to sing that sweet wee sang to your ain tune." This was a master-stroke of policy. The worthy farmer was over-reached here. No human being can withstand flattery when judiciously applied. The citadel was stormed, the fort taken. The Pedlar might now show his wares without inter- ruption ; well did he know this, and much did he profit by it. Our host's first and last song, dedicated to his dear wife, he never was weary of singing. All the house had heard it a hundred times, so had the Pedlar, so had the Gaberlunzie ; but I had not, Jot had not, it had not been jotted down. Burns' couplet, " A chield's amang ye taldn notes, And faith he'll print it," occurred to the farmer's memory, and feeling, as every poet does, a wish to see himself in print, persuaded as he was of the genuine feeling which had welled through his own bosom, and convinced that many of the best country songs were lost for THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 31 want of transcribers, he chanted, in a very affectionate and effective manner, the following effusion, the notes and words of which are jotted down exactly as he sung them. Wifie come hame, My couthie wee dame ; O but ye're far awa, Wifie come hame. Come wi' the young bloom o' morn on thy brow, Come wi' the low'n star o' love in thine ee, Come wi' the red cherries ripe on thy mou', A' glist' wi' balm, like the dew on the lea. Come wi' the gowd tassels fringing thy hair, Come wi' thy rose cheeks a' dimpled wi' glee, Come wi' thy wee step, and wifie-like air, O quickly come, and shed blessings on me. THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. Wifie come hame, My couthie wee dame ; O my heart wearies sair, Wifie come hame. Come wi' our love pledge, our dear little dawtie, Clasping my neck round, an' clambering my knee ; Come let me nestle and press the wee pettie, Gazing on ilka sweet feature o' thee. O but the house is a cauld hame without ye, Lanely and eerie's the life that I dre'e ; O come awa an' I'll dance round about ye, Yell ne'er again win frae my arms till I dee. WIFIE COME HAME. ^E^F Wif - ie come hame, my cou-thie wee dame, Oh but ye're far a - wa, i ' - Wif - ie come hame. Come wi' the young bloom o' morn on thy brow ; Kir j> * *- Come wi' the low'n star o' love in thine e'e, Come wi' the red cher - ries ripe on thy mou, A' glist' wi' balm, like the dew on the lea. Come wi' the gowd tas-sels fring-ing thy hair ; Come wi' thy rose cheeks a' Ml" V P E -M^^^^^^=^ i dun-pled wi' glee ; Come wi' thy wee step and wi f -ie - like air ; Oh quick - ly come, and shed bless-ing on me. THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 33 "Thank ye, thank ye, Tarn," exclaimed the Gaberlunzie. " That sang to your ain kind wifie, made when she was in Edinburgh nursing her dear faither, brings afore me the dear auld city, which, alas, is sadly changed now. Langsyne the low-browed wynds were lined wi' velvet and sedan chairs, and dignity didna disdain to step doun lang closes, an' up langer stairs, to couthy and comfortable dwellings. Now, alas ! the rage for levellin' will soon no leave an auld house, a crookit by-lane, or a steep gait, to remind us o' our auld associations. Time is also working sad havoc in the High Street, the brightest gem in the crown o' Auld Reekie. Workmen are busy pu'in 7 doun the biggins near the ancient dwellin' o' the glorious John Knox. Standing there lately, looking at the demolition of these ancient landmarks, and wishin' mysel' a stoop strong enough to uphaud them a', I felt as if every pick struck against the auld wa's was dug into my ain heart." And here the old man's eyes filled with tears, and he recited the following address to JOHN KNOX'S HOUSE, NETHERBOW. All hail ! thou ancient, tottering, bruckle biggin, Thou mouldie mass o' timmer, lime, and stane ; Thy in-kneed base, and bent three-neukit riggin, A' mouldering doun, can scantly stand alane ; Wi' a' thy time-worn hoary cronies gane, And thou thysel' just lootin to thy fa', Foul fa' the heart that winna mak a mane, And mourn thee sairly when thou art awa ; Alack ! we'll soon no hae an Auld Town mark ava. And thou wert ance auld Scotia's proudest boast, His hame wha never feared the face o' man, In days when Freedom scorned to count her cost, But boldly braved Oppression's bigot ban ; What though her tide full-flooded roughly ran, Sweeping o'er landmarks with its foaming crest ; Truth's glories arched the heavens with golden span, Waking to life Mind's ocean-heaving breast, While young Love's balmy breath lulled all the storm to rest. c 34 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. Ah ! wherefore should we scantly mete their praise, Who nobly stemmed Corruption's swelling flood, And tended Freedom in her infant days, Nursing her with their heart's devoted blood ; When Scotia's troubled voice was raised aloud, And with her wailing woe the air was rent ; While Nobles stood aloof, the common crowd, Led by a Hero, with a brow God -brent, To Freedom raised a shrine that clove the firmament. And now, while feudal buildings moulder round, The seats of mighty Nobles known no more, The spot thou standest on is holy ground, Embalmed for ever in our heart's deep core ; And he who lit Truth's glorious lamp of yore, Tho' humble was his guise and mean his name, Still stands a beacon on Time's stormy shore, Lighting the world with an immortal flame, Pure in his humble life, great in a deathless fame. THE GABERLUNZI&S WALLET. 35 Yes, Knox ! thy name shall be thy country's boast, Amid her skies shalt thou with Wallace float ; He who maintained her rights, when all but lost, By Nobles basely sold, by Prince forgot, Even then the Hero made the name of Scot Throughout all time a watchword for the free ; Though poor his state, and sad his hap, God wot, His patriot blood watered the sacred Tree That clothes our mountain tops with boughs of Liberty. Hail, Heavenly Tree ! that with thy flowery sweets Hath hallowed Scotia's bleak and sterile clime ; Whose beauties blossom where the tempest beats, Amid the golden broom and blushing thyme ; Even where our rocky mountains tower sublime, And native wild flowers kiss the sky-born air ; Steadfast throughout the changes of all Time, Unmoved by storms that swept Earth's bosom bare, The heaven-rapt throne of Freedom stands for ever there. It was interesting to observe the effect of this recitation on the various members of the party assembled. The farmer, not over regular in his religious exercises, swore it was worth a hundred sermons and a thousand homilies. His gentle mate sat silent, her eyes turned up to Heaven, and her whole soul apparently wrapt in devotion. Their manly son had gradually assumed an upright position, with his right foot thrown forward, and his left planted firmly on the ground, as if anxious to emu- late those heroic deeds which had kept alive patriotic feeling through so many ages. His sisters gazed on the minstrel with profound veneration, and a long deep-drawn sigh bursting spontaneously from their bosoms, seemed to indicate their regret that the whole world was not inspired with similar sentiments. Even the herd boy, and the little Benjamin of " Braxy's" old age, who had been dozing with their arms round each other's necks in the crib at the far corner of the fire-settle, awoke, and rubbing their eyes, came running forward to receive the old man's blessing, and to peep into his wallet for the pieces of gingerbread which, at this season of the year, he never failed to bring them. The Pedlar alone seemed unconcerned, save 36 THE GABERLUNZJES WALLET. about his own affairs, opening his pack, examining his goods, and now and then, as if by chance, allowing the showy corner of some bright-coloured piece of dress to escape from its con- finement, evidently with a view to attract the -attention of the gentle maidens. But now the homely supper, which had been preparing, was set before us. Mashed potatoes and milk, together with oaten- cake and rich sweet-milk cheese, for which Kelpie Cleugh was far famed, were heartily and plentifully distributed, and relished in a manner which none but those who have been similarly situated can properly appreciate. There was much merriment flashing around during supper ; a running fire of small shot was kept up, with considerable effect, between the old folk, while the young became more familiar and talkative. The occasional howl of the out-door blast, partially heard in fitful gusts rattling against the gable, served but to heighten our cheerfulness, to make us appreciate more highly our comforts, and to unite us all more closely together. Thus seated round the hearth, each with his wooden bicker and " cutty" spoon, we did such deeds as would have astonished some of our delicate friends who can- not sleep after supping, and who therefore seldom sup at all. Let them try the " Lang Whang" in a snow storm, and if they be fortunate enough to get into Kelpie Cleugh after nightfall, they will be able both to share the farmer's good cheer, and ready to exclaim with Fergusson, in his glorious poem of the " Farmer's Ingle," "On siccan food has mony a doughty deed By Caledonia's ancestors been done ; By this did mony a wight fu* weirlike bleed In brulzies frae the dawn to set o' sun ; 7 Twas this that braced their gardies, stiff an' strang, That bent the deidly yew in ancient days, Laid Denmark's daring sons on yird alang, Gar'd Scottish thristles bang the Roman bays : For near our crest their heads they doughtna raise." " These are capital potatoes o' yours, gudeman," said the Pedlar. " What wad ' the Brown Man o' the Muir' say if he saw the deep watery-bottomed moss, that cost him sae muckle feedin an' keepin up, changed by the pith o' your arm into a THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 37 soil dry enough to grow potatoes like these ? he wadna believe his ain een, I trow." * " Dinna ye be crawing ower crouse about the Brown Man o j the Muir, Patie," said Braxy, " he's maybe no sae far awa as ye imagine ; it taks a lang spoon to sup wi' the deil, and a laigh tongue to speak ill o' him, sae ye had better keep a calm sough. Gif the Brown Man was shootin his lang arm in through that bole at your back ay, ye needna start I'm o' opinion ye wad gie a' the hair o' your head to get quit o 7 him." " Hoot, man," said Peter, " I'm sae fu' o' your gude cheer e'enow, that I could warstle wi' the foul thief himsel' gif he daured to lay his black paws on me ; an' as for the * Brown Man,' he hasna been seen here awa for lang an' mony a year, unless by that puir witless creature, Feckless Phemie, wha says she helps him to water the roots o' the drained moss. It doesna look as he had muckle wit keeping company wi' a daft creature like her." " Puir Phemie," said Braxy, " what's come ower her in this awfu' night, I wonder ? I haena seen her for a week ; she'll be awa amang some o' the roofless shielins on the hills ; her life looks as gin it were witched, an' oh ! her fate has been hard. * There was a tradition current some time since among the old' country people anent this strange gentleman, which is illustrative of the inventive genius of the past age, the origin of the whole being easily traceable to the circumstance of a petrified body having been found buried in the moss some half century before. The story runs thus : When the Romans invaded Britain, this part of the country was covered with a thick forest, to which the ancient Caledonians retreated, and from whence they sallied to revenge themselves on the spoilers of their country. The Roman general being enraged at this, caused the wood to be hewn down, and triumphantly swore he Lad undenned the wild beasts at last. In the midst of his bravado, the genius of the country appeared, and told him, that die when he might, he would not rest in his grave until he saw the descendants of that very people, whose extinction he had attempted, raising rich crops and tall trees on that same spot, and living under a more civilized government than Rome could ever boast. The sturdy old Roman, determined not to be browbeaten, still proceeded in his work of devastation, and having hewed down a tree with his own hands, was killed by its fall. Accordingly, although he had lain here for two thousand years, until he was found as above, it was asserted that he had wandered about at night feeding the moss with water, but that the extensive draining which had been introduced had proved com- pletely successful in beating him off, and he had not been seen nor heard of since. The general belief was, that rather than see the prediction of Cale- donia fulfilled, his ghost had fairly fled the country. 38 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. I mind weel when she was the brawest and the proudest lass that gaed to kirk or market, and had mony a lover, gude men and true, that would hae dee'd for her; but a fause-hearted loun reaved her o' her wits, and met the fate he weel merited. " She grew puir, and he grew cauld, She was driven frae house an' hauld ; He grew rich, when she grew puir, And scowled the maiden frae his door. " Phemie comes, and Phemie goes, Scaithless 'mid each storm that blows ; Midnight whispers, ' Where is he ? ' Creaking swings the gallows tree. " Mary, let's hear the ballant that Phemie sings. God help us, I wish we had the puir thing snug within doors. She ne'er troubles ye wi' herseP or her wants, but looks in your face till the tear gathers in your ee, syne shakes her head, gies a moan, and sighs." FECKLESS PHEMIE. Feckless Phemie, sae witless an' puir, Gangs scaithless at night through the lang dark muir ; She owns nae wyle, and she spreads nae lure, But she wends alane wi' " the Man o' the Muir." She rises up when the stars lie down, When heaven's hung in black for the dead auld moon ; And she lights up a lowe for the hameless puir, That cheers the cauld heart o ; " the Man o' the Muir." She ance was the pride o' the lordly ha', Had father, an' brothers, an' lovers, an' a''; But poortith cam in, an' luve flew to the door, An' now she's nae friend but " the Man o' the Muir." Then, O gie the wanderer a hame for the day, When the e'enin gloams she'll be aff an' away ; An' some snell mornin, when nature is dour, She'll be found lying dead wi' " the Man o' the Muir." THE GABERLUNZIE S WALLET. 39 While the hard fate of Phemie interested us all, more par- ticularly after the feeling manner in which the song was sung by Mary, the Pedlar, who had kept nibbling away long after all the others were finished, and who seemed to have been trained in a similar school with the immortal Dugald Dalgetty, show- ing, like that worthy, a capability of eating quicker and longer than common, broke in, by way of excuse, with, " That's a bit grand kebbock o' yours, gudewife. Folks aften ferlie how your cheese is aye sae rich ; and Haurbraux, your next-door neighbour, whase cattle feed in the same meadow, maks nae- thing but dry fuzzionless trash, as tough's the woodie, an' as lean's a deal board." "Mair butter, mair butter still, Peter," whispered the Gaberlunzie. "What!" said Braxy, highly pleased with the compliment. " Peter, does a bodie like you, that kens a'thing, no ken that our gudewife sells nae butter? and, as the Gaberlunzie remarked ae night at Haurbraux, when they gae him butter to fatten their lean cheese, ' Foul fa' them wha sindered ye/ said he ' they hae little heart wad cast dryness between sic twin bre- thren, an' rob the tane to mak up the tither.' Tarn ! tak Jock wi' ye there, and look after the suppering o' the kye; we maunna forget the bread winners; it's ower stormy for the lasses venturing out ower the door; just waughle your way to the byre the best way ye can, and gie the poor brutes some- thing to keep them nibblin till morninV "Ah!" said Peter, "that accounts for your kye being a' gude milkers. " Hawkie mumps, an' Hawkie gies Milk an' butter, whey, and cheese ; But gin ye fill nae Hawkie's mou, Wha can blame the milkless cow ? " "Mair butter still, Peter; mair butter still," whispered the Gaberlunzie. While this conversation was being carried on between the farmer and pedlar, the young folks had gathered round the Gaberlunzie, who seemed to be a sort of mentor to them, handing them each some new book from his wallet, which they instantly began to peruse with avidity. The love of reading and thirst for knowledge are prevalent throughout all 42 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. With a head to think, and a heart to feel, He had nought to fear, and nought to conceal. And away on learning's road he rush'd, With furious fearless speed ; His compeers shook their heads, all hush'd, And thought of Faust's " Black Steed," For musty parchment, and mouldy tome, He knew as well as his own dear home. In sooth he was a gallant youth, High-blooded, frank, and gay, His eye all light, his heart all truth, His soul as clear as day ; Genius sat throned upon his brow, He learn'd, and learners marvell'd how. And matrimony spread her net, In that old gossiping town, And arch-eyed beauty's bow was set To bring the proud bird down ; And the love-shod shafts flew fleet as light, But reached him not in his strong wing'd flight. For his heart had flown far, far away, From the routs and festivals, And the heaving breasts of the fair and gay Who graced the joyous halls; All gave him up with a sigh and a moan, All vowing his heart was hard as stone. And so it was to the spangled charms Of a ball or concert room ; But ah ! his spirit was all in arms, For a creature of dazzling bloom ; The sun, the sky, and the pure blue ether, Were in her brightness all mingled together. Oh, she was all too perfect and fair To be sung in vulgar song ; Should I sing of her eyes, her cheeks, or her hair, Her lips would prate of the wrong ; Nature her utmost here had done, And centred all her charms in one. THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 43 Where was this radiant floweret hid, But where all beauty lies. Where the blushing blue-bell's twinkling lid Opes far from vulgar eyes ; While on its little velvet throne It courts the wanderer's gaze alone. So she courted the gaze of her lover's eye, She basked in its blessed light ; Nor the stars that jewell'd the midnight sky To her seem'd half so bright ; And they wander'd late, and they wander'd soon, In the blush of the morn or the light of the moon. And who is she that the proud youth's breast To holy love can win, But the serving-maid, all meanly drest, Of the poor Professor's kin ? The Priest the holy knot hath tied, Which death alone can e'er divide. To wait the table the damsel came, As she was wont before, But Harry's proud heart burst all a-flame, For he loved her more and more ; And he said, as he set her by his side, This lady is my wedded bride. The old Professor trembled through, Deep sorrow shook his frame, For the world, and the bridegroom's kin, he knew On him would cast the blame ; And the deed would bring down scorn and shame On his erewhile pure and spotless name. And he hath written a letter wide, And sign'd it with his seal, And a nimble youth must post and ride, Nor spare nor whip nor steel, Till the haughty Lady of Normandale Hath learn'd the strange and humble tale. 42 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. With a head to think, and a heart to feel, He had nought to fear, and nought to conceal. And away on learning's road he rush'd, With furious fearless speed ; His compeers shook their heads, all hush'd, And thought of Faust's " Black Steed," For musty parchment, and mouldy tome, He knew as well as his own dear home. In sooth he was a gallant youth, High-blooded, frank, and gay, His eye all light, his heart all truth, His soul as clear as day ; Genius sat throned upon his brow, He learn'd, and learners marvelFd how. And matrimony spread her net, In that old gossiping town, And arch-eyed beauty's bow was set To bring the proud bird down ; And the love-shod shafts flew fleet as light, But reach'd him not in his strong wing'd flight. For his heart had flown far, far away, From the routs and festivals, And the heaving breasts of the fair and gay Who graced the joyous halls; All gave him up with a sigh and a moan, All vowing his heart was hard as stone. And so it was to the spangled charms Of a ball or concert room ; But ah ! his spirit was all in arms, For a creature of dazzling bloom ; The sun, the sky, and the pure blue ether, Were in her brightness all mingled together. Oh, she was all too perfect and fair To be sung in vulgar song ; Should I sing of her eyes, her cheeks, or her hair, Her lips would prate of the wrong ; Nature her utmost here had done, And centred all her charms in one. THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 43 Where was this radiant floweret hid, But where all beauty lies. Where the blushing blue-bell's twinkling lid Opes far from vulgar eyes ; While on its little velvet throne It courts the wanderer's gaze alone. So she courted the gaze of her lover's eye, She basked in its blessed light ; Nor the stars that jewelFd the midnight sky To her seem'd half so bright ; And they wander'd late, and they wander'd soon, In the blush of the morn or the light of the moon. And who is she that the proud youth's breast To holy love can win, But the serving-maid, all meanly drest, Of the poor Professor's kin ? The Priest the holy knot hath tied, Which death alone can e'er divide. To wait the table the damsel came, As she was wont before, But Harry's proud heart burst all a-flame, For he loved her more and more ; And he said, as he set her by his side, This lady is my wedded bride. The old Professor trembled through, Deep sorrow shook his frame, For the world, and the bridegroom's kin, he knew On him would cast the blame ; And the deed would bring down scorn and shame On his erewhile pure and spotless name. And he hath written a letter wide, And sign'd it with his seal, And a nimble youth must post and ride, Nor spare nor whip nor steel, Till the haughty Lady of Normandale Hath learn'd the strange and humble tale. 44 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. The proud Dame towers erect and tall, Her bosom in burning fire, No one in all that princely hall Dare strive to soothe her ire ; But saddle and bridle, up and away, We cross the mountains of Scotland to-day. And Harry his mother had handed down, But she sprung from her charger's back : -'Approach me not, thou craven loon, To thy house a traitor black ; But away and lean on thy beggar bride, With her dower of poverty and pride." His haughty soul was rising high, Though he bowed to a parent's power \ But he knew full well the victory To be gained by his lowly flower ; And he inly felt that he soon should see Proud rank to beauty bend the knee. The hoary Sage the Dame receives At the threshold of his door, And mutters low how much he grieves That his dwelling is so poor ; But still the fire flash'd from her eyes, " Thy kin is poorer still, " she cries. A small door openeth in the north, Of an old house dull as night, And a lovely vision bursteth forth, Like a rosebud seeking light ; And lo ! in dazzled wonderment, Each eye is lit, and each knee is bent And as each charm still deeper blush'd, And her gold locks flew asunder, The Noble Matron forward rush'd, With a look of love and wonder ; Then kissing her cheek ; mid a tearful shower, Sigh'd, "This indeed is Beauty's Power." THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 45 It is edifying to observe the effect of his own productions on an author when they are recited by another ; how sedulous he is that the points should be well given; how rapidly he detects a misnamed word ; how admirably he plays the part of prompter. To see this in perfection, it is necessary that the author should be a song writer, listening to one of his favourite ditties chanted by a good singer. When the song is com- menced the author appears dreadfully agitated, his colour is pale as death, a cold sweat breaks over him, his heart beats thick, his eyes are dead-set on the ground, while the muscles of his face contract and relax with great rapidity. Anon a change comes over his spirit ; as the song advances his cheeks kindle into a flame ; he darts one of his kindest looks at the singer ; then, raising his eyes aloft, he fixes them on the ceiling, where, along with those of the melodious warbler, they remain spell-bound, his whole soul wrapt up in its greatness, and swelling in admiration of his own immortal emanation. The song is finished; a whisper goes round, that this delightful lyric is the newest piece of the most promising and rising lyrical poet of the age, Timothy Tinglelyre. From all quarters congratulations pour thick upon the minstrel, who receives the homage with much grace and apparent modesty; owns the soft impeachment ; but declares, with a patronizing air, that, but for the musical skill, rich voice, and exquisite taste of his young friend, that very song which the company are pleased to talk of so highly, might have been lost to the world for ever. This modest acknowledgment serves two purposes ; it gratifies the vanity of the singer, who thus spreads the poet's fame in every company where the great man is present ; and it leads the listeners to believe, that the author has many in store of equal merit, could he only sing them himself. The compliment which the poor singer receives in this case, be it observed, is very equivocal ; the general feeling being that song, singer, and music have been called into existence by the creative power of the great Timothy Tinglelyre. Living small poets have the advantage here over the illustrious dead : when the world listens to " Scots wha hae " by Braham, they talk of the singer, not of Burns. The Gaberlunzie, with all his experience and cool-headed sagacity, was not altogether free from the vanity above alluded to, as almost inseparable from his class. During the recital of 46 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. the Power of Beauty, while his falcon eye glanced around to ascertain its effect on the listeners, he was ready to check, in a whisper, any little mistake on the part of the eloquent reader, taking care not to awaken a blush on her cheek until she had concluded her task. Then she shrunk away into a corner, her face brightening to crimson as the Gaberlunzie expressed his delight with the exquisite feeling she had imparted to the ballad, and remarked that she had so identified herself with the heroine, that she would ever remain associated in his mind with the rosebud of beauty, who still continued to shed the fresh fra- grance of nature around her, and to grace the high circle to which the choice of her noble husband had called her. " Aye, and a noble fellow he was," said Patie ; " an' a proud triumph it was for him to see his simple Scottish lassie subdue his mother's pride wi' ae sweet look." " Ay, Peter, sic triumphs are no for your kind o' folk ; ye may weel look and admire, but ye canna enjoy. Ye are sae greedy that ye wadna marry ' the bonniest lass in a 7 the warld, unless she had siller.' Though nae spaewife, I ken whaur you will light; it will just be on our auld friend "LANGSIDE NANNY. TUNE " My mither's aye glourin' ower me." " Auld Nanny o' Langside, Has a right side an' a wrang side ; Wi' a smirk on her mou, An' a nick on her brow, A slee ane is Nanny o' Langside. " She's a kind word an' a dort ane, She's a lang leg an' a short ane ; She has massy silk braws, She has laces and gauze, An' a gowd-headed staff she can sport ane. " Round her neck a gowd necklace is hingin' ; Round her waist keys o' siller are swingin' ; While her hands shine like light, Wi' gowd rings sparklin' bright. An' her pouches wi' guineas are ringin*. THE GABERLUNZI&S WALLET. 47 " She gets aye the tither name-daughter, Ilka puir couple thinks they hae caught her; While baith far and near, For the auld bodie's gear, E'en gentles to parties hae sought her. " But Nanny, sae frugal an' canny, Lang has pantit an' sighed for a manie ; An' she'll gie her ringed han' To some pawky wee man, She was made for slee Pate Pinglepenny." "We'll surely get ribbons and gloves on that occasion, Peter," said the girls. " Ye'll be a braw man then, when ye get baith a rich wife an' a fu' pack. What will be your livery ? " "Blue, my dawties," answered Peter, "true blue never stains ; an' a true ship ne'er hoists false colours." " Atweel, Peter," said Braxy, " auld Nanny will need some- thing showy to set her aff. Like a' the lave o' her kind, she'll try to look young, but a bonny happie-ti-kick ye'll mak o't atween ye. You an' her gaun to the kirk wad need to get some auld sodger to pit ye thro' your facings afore ye can form a line, or keep the step thegether." Peter was about to answer, but was stopped by a violent knocking at the door, and a loud cry for help and admission. 48 THE GABERLUNZIE'S WALLET. CHAPTER II. Oh, ope the door and let me in, Oh dinna let your minstrel fa* ; An' dinna let his winding-sheet, Be naething but a wreath o' snaw. PICKERING. ALL the inmates rushed at once to the door, and were jostled aside by a tall amazon, almost shapeless with snow, who staggered in, with something rolled up in the folds of her mantle, which, from her manner of carrying it, seemed to be a child, but which, when she had unslung her cloak from her shoulders, proved to be a little old man, apparently dead. His appearance, as he lay in her arms, was well calculated to awaken sympathy. His eyes, which glared wide open, were piercing, black, and lustrous ; his wrinkled cheeks were livid and colourless ; his mouth was open, and the relaxed muscles of his under jaw were formed into hard wiry and deeply indented lines ; his grizzly beard seemed to be covered with hoar-frost, and his whole body so much reduced, that he looked more like a skeleton than a living being. The female, on the contrary, was a strong, bold, healthy looking personage, with an energetic decision in all her movements, and a tender affec- tion evinced by her for the poor creature who lay before us interested us all warmly in her favour. It seemed somewhat strange and unnatural, that so large a woman should be linked with such a fraction of a man ; but the slender lichen clings to the strong rock, and our self-pride is gratified in assisting those who cannot assist themselves. Indeed, without this wise pro- vision of nature, it is apparent that the weak would become weaker, and the strong stronger; until that fellow-feeling of imperfection which unites us together being altogether dissolved, the world would be worse than it is, and man would cease to acknowledge the relationship which subsists between him and his brethren. After the usual means of restoration had been applied for some time, the Gaberlunzie, who appeared well skilled in THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 49 matters of this kind, gave notice of returning animation. The breath of the prostrate object dimmed the little mirror brought from the room ; he was rolled up in warm blankets, and, in the arms of his affectionate helpmate, returned to life and con- sciousness. The diminutive hero was soon able to recognise all that was going on around him; his eyes glistened and twinkled, as if emitting sparks; his face got animated and flushed; he held forward his lips to his benefactress, who smacked them till the whole house rung again ; all eyes were filled with joy; even "Braxy" caught a tear trickling down his cheek, and exclaimed, " Od hang it, this is ower muckle .!" The little man, however, lay in the same position, gazing in the face of his protectress, who, nothing loath nor daunted, almost stifled him with her caresses, until, as if suddenly awakened from her dream of happiness to some painful reality, she exclaimed, " Oh, dearly as I lo'e to see my Willie weel again, yet I canna forget our puir companions in the storm, the auld Fiddler an' his silly laddie, that I was obliged to leave, and seek a shelter for my puir deeing Willie ! Puir creatures, had I haen the power as I had the will, I wud hae carried them baith on my back ; they wad hae helpit to fill that toom corner at the ingle-side; but, by this time, I fear they'll likely be straikit on a snawy wreath." Upon this being mentioned, the Gaberlunzie started up, and looking out on the night, said, "That if she could guide him near to the spot where she had left them, they might yet be saved. The old Fiddler," he added, "who had seen three generations away, had fought his way through many a rough storm ; and, if he was alive, and con- ceived himself within the reach of human hearing, now that the storm had passed, he would be endeavouring to attract atten- tion by his voice and fiddle, which, for sweetness and power, were unmatched in this part of the world." Upon this hint accordingly we prepared to accompany our leader, and, with the exception of the Pedlar, who was not willing, and " Willie," who was left in charge of our kind land- lady and her daughters, we sallied forth, to endeavour, if pos- sible, to discover and succour the storm-staid travellers. The light at first, with the reflection from the white snow, was sufficiently strong to let us see each other, and the moon shortly began to glimmer through the clouds. After an hour spent in clambering through masses of snow, and over hills of D 50 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. drift, we came to a large stream, which, although frozen, was dangerous to attempt crossing. We skirted along its banks for some time under the directions of the female, who at length told us that she thought we were near the point where she had parted from her fellow-travellers. Here we made a stand to consult about our farther proceeding, when the colley, who had come along with us, started off in the direction of the hill. Encouraged by this omen, the Gaberlunzie laid his ear on the end of his staff, and declared that he heard music in the same direction as that which the dog had taken. There was a deep hollow or glen between us and the commencement of the hill, which was somewhat dangerous, the snow in many parts of it being very deep; but, using every precaution, we suc- ceeded in finding our way across a rocky ridge which crossed this muirland strath, and soon the sound of a fiddle at no great distance was heard distinctly. " Braxy," who knew the locality, was not long in informing us that the Fiddler had found shelter in a peat-sheiling which stood on the hill- top, where the herds at times resided in summer, and where he had himself in early life spent many a merry night. Although now deserted, he said that it was still -fit to afford shelter from the angry elements in such a night ; but how the Fiddler had found his way thither, was at present to him a mystery. The moon, which now rose clear and dazzling, afforded us, on reaching the eminence, a full view of the hut, which certainly formed a picture of a singular and romantic character. It was partly unroofed, one of the gables was nearly down, and the whole walls were in a state of dilapidation. One turf seat re- mained; and the moonbeams struggling through the broken roof, fell full on the old man seated thereon, with his idiot boy, apparently unconscious of his situation, leaning on his grandfather's knee, listening to the blended melody of his voice and fiddle. There was something in all this which inspired us with awe, and created a mingled feeling of admiration and astonishment. The Fiddler was apparently very aged ; his white hair, which rivalled the silvery snow, fell in long straight lines down his back ; his forehead was high, and deeply furrowed ; his cheeks, which were very thin, sunk in the middle to a hollow, and again stretched out round his mouth in irregular circles of deeply THE GABERLUNZI&S WALLET. 51 indented lines; his eyes, which were fixed on his helpless charge, with a look of the most solicitous affection, were sunk far in their sockets, and shone with that lustrous brilliancy which is the sure index to a melancholy mind. Light grief finds its way in tears down the cheek ; heavy grief lies buried in the heart, and glasses itself in the eye, in which can always be detected the fitful flashes of the hidden and consuming flame. When we approached, he had just commenced to sing and play the following song and melody, his face varying its ex- pression at every point, and his head bent forward as if in communion with the sounds which came from the bosom of his Tichly-toned fiddle. MY FIDDLE AN' ME. NATURE is bonny an' blythsome to see, Wi' the gowd on her brow, an' the light in her ee ; An' sweet is her summer sang rollin' in glee, As it thrills the heart-strings o' my fiddle an' me. When the young morning blinks through amang the black cluds, An' the southland breeze rustles out through the green wuds ; The lark in the lift, and the merl on the tree, Baith strike the key-note to my fiddle an' me. When amang the crisp heather upon the hillside, Mine ee fou o' rapture, my soul fou o' pride j The wee heather lintie an' wild hinny-bee A' join in the strain wi' my fiddle an' me. When daunderin at e'en doun the dark dowie dells, To cheer the wee gowans, an' charm the wee bells The sweet purling rill wimples doun to the sea, Dancing light to the notes o' my fiddle an' me. At kirn or at weddin', at tryst or at fair, There's nae saul-felt music unless we be there ; Wi' a spark in my heart, an' a drap in my ee, The verra floor loups to my fiddle an' me. 52 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. E'en now, when the cauld drift sweeps ower the bleak hill, An' mony stout hearts sink beneath the fell chill, What keeps my puir callant alive on my knee, But twa three blythe staves frae my fiddle an 7 me. My fiddle's my life-spring, my fiddle's my a', She clings to me close when a' else are awa ; Time may force friends to part, he may wyle faes to gree, Death only can part my auld fiddle an' me. MY FIDDLE AN' ME. Moderately (Zf Slow, with < -/ft Feeling. (JJ O Na - ture is bon-ny an' blithesome to see, Wi' the gowd on her brow, an' the light in her ee ; An' sweet is her sum-mer sang roll - in' in glee, As it thrills the heart-strings o' my fid-die an' me. When the young morning blinks thro' amang the black duds, An' the southland breeze rustles out ;* as through the green wuds ; The lark in the lift, an' the merl on the tree, Baith n fc ft ^ 4 . *- strike the key - note to my fid - die an' me. THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 53 While this song was being sung, we all stood still, as if afraid to breathe, or lose a single word or tone. Although the voice of the singer was tremulous, and at some points nearly in- audible, still the notes were so beautifully blended with the tones of the fiddle, that every word was heard, as if distinctly pronounced both by the enthusiastic musician and his har- monious instrument. So much were we charmed by this effu- sion, that we had almost wholly forgotten our situation and the purport of our visit ; nor ha 1 we recovered presence of mind to move forward, when we were still farther astonished and charmed by a voice, which is med from the dark corner of the shieling, and as if echoing the melody which still rang in our ears, chanted the following v/ild and plaintive burden, evi- dently the outpouring of a diser^sed and woe-stricken mind : SING O'N, SING ON. ING on, sing on, the wanderer's near, Cold scowls the night, and the blast howls drear : Sing on, or my woe-worn heart will break ; Sing on ! sing on ! till my love awake. Sing on, while the Kelpie's ford is dry, Will-o'-wisp's obscured by the stars on high : The boughs their silvery feathers shake ; Sing on ! sing on ! till my love awake. Sing on, sing on, tho' the snow-wreathed moss Like fading old age be hoar and cross : Spring gives new bloom to the ferny brake ; Sing on ! sing on ! till my love awake. Sing on, sing on, tho' the creaking tree On the lonely moor swings drearily : He shakes from his brow each snowy flake ; Sing on ! sing on ! till my love awake. Climb ye the mountain, seek ye the dell, Bid mirth good-night, and pleasure farewell : Yet life shall float over death's dark lake ; Sing on ! sing on ! till my love awake. 54 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. The Robin sits on the graveyard skull, Chirping away with his small heart full : The sweet bird sings at the dead man's wake ; Sing on ! sing on ! or my heart will break. Sing on, sing on, the wanderer's near, Cold scowls the night, and the blast howls drear : Sing on, or my woe-worn heart will break ; Sing on ! sing on ! till my love awake. All Nature acknowledges the influence of music ; man bends before its power, and even the inferior animals own its dominion. The deep-toned organ, as it peals through the groined and richly-fretted arches of the lofty cathedral, wafts the soul to heaven on the wings of melody, and elevates the devotional feeling of the sincere worshipper. The clear tinkle of the solitary church-bell in the Sabbath morn, as it echoes among the hills, is felt and responded to by the well-attuned hearts of those who, impressed with its old and sacred associations, repair, at its summons, from their distant homes, to hold sweet converse with their God, in the same church where their fore- fathers often had met together in the olden time. The sad sound of the pibroch deepens the gloom of the Highland glen. The muffled drum hushes to stillness the noisy voice of the crowded street through which passes the funeral procession of the poor soldier. The blind vocalist, whose voice awakens the dull and silent lane at nightfall, like a spirit wailing among the habitations of the dead, leads after him, in the cold winter time, groups of merry little creatures, who, chained by the ear, follow him through half the town, regardless of the punish- ment that awaits them on their return home from their nocturnal perambulations. Bands of musicians find encouragement suffi- cient to induce them to serenade and enliven the darkest and closest alleys of the city. In the poorest districts of large towns, where nothing but squalid misery abounds, the itinerant ballad singer finds purchasers for his woeful ditties. The most popular street songs are chanted loudest by the friendless wretches, seated on outshot shelving stairs, poor homeless beings who have their dwellings in the streets, and who can look forward to the grave only for a home, where " the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest." The child, THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 55 as he lisps and prattles on his nurse's knee, leaps bounding to a lively air, or is hushed asleep by a gentle lullaby. Old frail wrecks of humanity, whose dancing days have long since passed away, will beat time with their staff to the sound of the fiddle. Nations have been conquered, battles have been won, by the influence of music ; and many a wounded soldier has shed his last sigh, and fallen asleep in the- arms of death, amid dreams of home and friends, conjured up by a melody associated with " Life's morning march, when his bosom was young." Strong as is the influence of music over the mind at all times, its power is much increased by the stillness of the night. The ^Eolian harp, breathed upon by the invisible spirits of the air, makes every heart echo to its irregular and fitful cadences j and many a hard pillow is softened, and many an aching head is soothed to slumber, by the gentle and pleasing strains of the nightwaits. Was it, then, to be wondered at, that while the foregoing songs were being sung in so singular a manner, the party from Kelpie Cleugh should stand, silent and still, riveted to the spot with admiration ? Ere we had awakened from our trance-like stupor, or were able to shake off the spell in which we were bound, the singer of the last song came forth from the shadowy corner of the hut in which she had been concealed from our view, and the feel- ing of awe which had crept over us was increased by the appearance of the figure who now stood revealed. Her person was thin and tall ; a gray hill-plaid hung over her left arm ; her hair escaped in irregular ringlets from beneath a small bonnet, which, although it partially shaded, did not conceal any one feature of her very remarkable face. Her colour was pale ; the expression of her eyes subdued and tender. There was no trace of derangement about her, but she seemed rather the victim of mental suffering and broken-hearted grief. Yet her step was firm and elastic ; and He who stills the stormy wave to the weary mariner, and tempers the wind to the shorn lamb, had given her a frame capable of enduring the fatigue to which the restless and unsettled state of her mind frequently sub- jected her. While we still stood gazing on this very singular personage, the old Fiddler, apparently much delighted with the wild and flowing melody she had just sung, began, to play it on his 56 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. fiddle, which so affected the singer that we observed large glistening tears running down her cheeks ; at the pause, how- ever, she seemed to awake to a sense of the danger to which they were all exposed, and again addressed herself to the listeners. There is beauty below, there is beauty above, The earth beams with light, and the sky glows with love, The snow sparkles white, and the stars twinkle gay, All mingling and blending like Morning with Day ; Then follow me, follow me, through the long muir, There's a home for the friendless, a friend for the poor ! Tho' the sky is all clear, yet the birds are all fled ; Tho' the earth's deck'd in white, yet the flowers are all dead ; Tho' the brave heart of manhood beats dauntless and bold, Yet old age and childhood will shiver a-cold. Then follow me, follow me, through the long muir, There's a home for the friendless, a friend for the poor ! " Ay, and ye shall find them baith at Kelpie Cleugh, my kind-hearted dawtie ! " exclaimed the farmer, unable longer to restrain himself. " My puir faithfu' feckless creature, God help us ! it wad be telling us a', if folks wha are reputed great, gude, an' wise, had a tithe o 7 your kindness. Come awa, come awa, ye shall hae the biennest corner o' the ingle-cheek, the best bite in the pantry, the blythest blink o' my wifie's ee, and the warmest welcome I can gie ye." This exclamation startled the whole three listeners, particu- larly Phemie, who shrunk into the corner whence she had issued ; and it was not until our worthy host had convinced her of his identity that she could be induced again to come forth. The fiddler and his boy received us with loud cheers, and every possible demonstration of merriment. The face of the former had quite a changed expression ; he leaped up, skipped about, twanged his fiddle-string with his finger, shouted out again and again, clasped the farmer round the neck, and em- braced us all, not even our conductress escaping his caresses. The chief expression of joy, however, was reserved for the last. When the Gaberlunzie, who had kept in the background, made THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 57 his appearance, the Fiddler started back, clasped his hands to- gether, knelt down, and throwing his arras round the knees of our old friend, looked up in his face as if he had been pre- serving life for half a century just to see him, and now felt contented to die. The boy also seemed deeply affected, and when the Gaberlunzie patted him on the head, and applied to him the familiar epithet of " puir fallow," he felt him all over, looked him close in the face, and, amid unintelligible sounds and wild gestures, endeavoured to express how very happy he was. The two old men seemed acquaintances of long stand- ing ; they retired together for some moments, and conversed with each other in a very animated manner, though all their conversation was carried on in an undertone. They also kept close together on our way to Kelpie Cleugh, and maintained a similar conversation the whole road, apparently questioning and answering each other with a feeling of deep interest. This convinced us all that there was some connecting link between them, some mutual attraction that did not extend to the circle around them. With all this demonstration of joy on the part of the old "Fiddler, he did not manifest nor express that surprise which might have been expected from one in his situation. He told us that, after having been left by his two companions, he had struggled hard to follow them, but that his boy, weakly at all times, had sunk down completely exhausted ; that having at last got to the leeside of a crag, which afforded a partial shelter from the storm, he had resolved there to abide his fate ; that knowing the power of his bow-hand, he had begun to play a tune, thinking to attract the attention of some of the shepherds or farmers, if, perchance, any of their cottages should be within hearing distance ; that shortly after he began to play, Feckless Phemie had come to his assistance ; that the storm had abated in severity; and that she had conducted him to the shieling where we had found him, carrying the poor boy herself all the way. Thus, during the half hour they had remained there, they had been singing and cheering each other in the way we had found them, although much against Phemie's will, who had been anxious to convey them to Kelpie Cleugh ; but the boy still being weak and weary, and the shieling affording sufficient shelter, he had resolved to stay a short time, and try the effect of his fiddle, to see whether or not it might bring 58 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. some one to assist them, ere they again ventured to cross the snow wreaths alone. " And by my troth," said he, "I screwed up the auld jaud's heart-strings, and gaured her speak; and sweet is the music o' a tongue that could bring sae mony kind friends round me at sic a seasonable time, wi' sic help an' relief : " so saying, he tossed off the " quaich of mountain dew " now handed him by the farmer, and thus again apostrophized his fiddle : Winter's frost and snaw Ne'er wi' me can meddle, While sic notes I draw Frae my dear auld fiddle. Far I rise aboon A' this world's widdle, Wi' a hamely tune Frae my tunefu' fiddle. Then link an' laugh awa While my elbows diddle ; Weel I lo'e ye a', But better far my fiddle ! Lassies lo'e a kiss, Gallants lo'e a cuddle, But they ken nae bliss Like dancing to my fiddle. Sweet's the maiden's tear 'At her sister's bridal, But ah ! the dew-blob's dear That's drappit on my fiddle. Then link an' laugh awa While my elbows diddle ; Weel I lo'e ye a', But better far my fiddle ! His fiddle was evidently the goddess of the old man's idolatry, and it was needless at present to endeavour to in- fringe, in the slightest degree, on a friendship of such long standing, or to direct his attention to his kind-hearted com- panion and our willing conductress, to whose exertions, in the first instance, he owed our present visit. We now set out on our return towards Kelpie Cleugh, and THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 59 on our way thither felt the full force of the old proverb, " That a good deed lightens a heavy heart, and agreeable company shortens a long road." The night was now one of singular beauty. The sky, lighted up with the moon and stars, was like one sheet of silver, studded with sparkling diamonds; while the Milky Way stretched across, like a deeply imbedded seam of jewels, glimmering and losing themselves in each other's light. The snow, which had been wound into waving and circular wreaths, was crystallized by the frost, and reflected from innumerable little mirrors, with increased effect, the lustrous brilliancy of the sky. Some of the gray crags and knolls, which had been swept bare, peeped out here and there from among the mass of glittering white, relieving and giving variety to a landscape of great beauty, and more like enchant- ment than reality. As we approached within sight of the house, the beauty of the scene was still further heightened. The skeleton branches of the trees were all loaded with glistening snow. The ruins of the old castle now seemed older than ever ; and one or two tall fragments of wall which still remained standing, looked like some fantastically shaped giants of antiquity, their heads hoary with extreme age, and their bodies bending beneath the load of years. The dense volume of smoke which rose from the farm-house slowly and gradually wound itself into large circles of thin clouds, and threw a fine gray shadow over the white roof. As the cloud ascended to an immense height in an undulating and semi-transparent column, the rays of light, playing on its edges, and piercing its thin body, gave it a delicacy of tint, and a richness of colour, which might have been imagined to attend the ascent or descent of some super- natural being. We found our kind hostess and her family awaiting our arrival with great anxiety. Our little hero, Willie, now quite recovered, was seated, chatting with the Pedlar, and seemed to be amusing the company with his lively conversation. He came running out to meet his helpmate, and ere we had all got seated, or had time to receive the warm congratulations which were poured thick upon us from all quarters, he welcomed his better half with the following affectionate effusion : 6o THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. WILLIE AND MAGGY. TUNE " Whistle an' I'll come to you, my lad." CHORUS. Oh ! what wad I do gin my Maggy were dead ? Oh ! what wad I do gin my Maggy were dead ? This wild e'en be a wearifu' warld indeed To me, gin my ain canny Maggy were dead. Bairns brought up thegither, baith nursed on ae knee, Baith slung ower ae cuddy, fu' weel did we gree ; Tho' I was born armless, an' aye unco wee, My Maggy was muckle, an' bunted for me. Oh ! what wad I do, &c. When she grew a woman, an' I grew a man, She graspit my stump, for I hadna a han' ; An' we plighted our troth ower a big bag o' skran, Thegither true-hearted to beg thro' the Ian'. Oh ! what wad I do, &c. THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 61 Tho' whiles when the skran and the siller are rife, We baith may get fou, yet we never hae strife ; To me she ne'er lifted her han' in her life, An' whaur is the loon that can brag sic a wife ? Oh ! what wad I do, &c. Oh ! Maggy is pure as a young Papist nun, An 7 she's fond o' her Will, as the wean o' its fun, As the wight o' his drink, or the wit o' his pun There's no sic anither Meg under the sun. Oh ! what wad I do, &c. Mony big loons hae hechted to wyle her awa, Baith thimblers, and tumblers, and tinklers an* a* ; But she jeers them, an' tells them her Willie, though sma', Has mair in his bulk than the best o' them a'. Oh ! what wad I do, &c. I'm feckless an' frien'less, distorted and wee, Canna cast my ain claes, nor yet claw my ain knee ; But she kens a' my wants, an' does a'thing for me, Gin I wantit my Maggy I'm sure I wad dee. Then what wad I do gin my Maggy were dead ? Oh ! what wad I do gin my Maggy were dead ? This wad e'en be a wearifu' warld indeed To me, gin my ain canny Maggy were dead. " Weel done, my wee game-cock," exclaimed Braxy; u Od, I like to see a man that loves his wife, and can tell her o' her qualities afore her ain face, an' afore a' the warld; and ye hae a right ane, wha .weel deserves a' your atten- tion, and weel worth having half-a-dozen o' sangs chanted in her praise. But for the gude steeve stuff she's made o', baith in body and mind, my fire-neuk wad hae been toomer the night, and they might hae been takin' their last sleep on the muir wha are singing like summer birds round the blythsome blink o' our ingle lowe. Troth, gudewife," con- tinued he, addressing his " bonny wee dame," " I couldna help comparing myseP to Noah filling his ark the night, as I cam ower the muir wi' my freends ahint me, and a dainty cleckin o' 62 THE GABERLUNZIE' S WALLET. chickens I hae gathered thegither, I trow. I question gif yell get sic a collection o' sangsters under ae roof-tree in a' braid Scotland at the present moment. The bits o' birdies outby e'enow, puir things, are e'en blythe to pick up twa three crumbs frae the window-sole, or aff the barn-floor, an' I whiles think the wee bit chirm their leader Robin gies is bonnier than the blythest lays o' the lark in the simmer mornin. I wadna want their kindly chirp for a barnfu' o' corn ; an' gin the burdies canna nor maunna be forgotten, neither shall the door o' Kelpie Cleugh be steekit against the traveller, however poor. We hae muckle need to help ane anither in this warld; it's but a warstle at the best, and we hae aneugh ado to get through with- out warstling wi' our ain brithers, or steeking our heart against ony son o' Adam, however far awa he may be removed frae us in kin, or however laigh may be his station in life." " I like ye for that, man, Tarn ; I like ye for that," said the Gaberlunzie, grasping him by the hand ; " I like ye for that far mair than for a' your ither qualities : it was that kindly feeling o' yours for the wants o' ithers", that desire to render them assist- ance, ,that first made me tak a liking to you ; and amid a' the daffin, deevilry, and quaffing glee that you used to gang on wi' in your young days, your kindly disposition was aye letting itsel' out in some shape or ither j and I hae nae doubt that this did mair to gain ye the heart o' her wha's now been sae lang your helpmate, than a' the wabs o' ruffles and braw dresses that the Pedlar yelps about." " Baith's best," said Peter, " baith's best ; a kind heart beats as warm aneath a ruffled sark as a coarse piece o' sackclaith ; and even marble's nane the waur o' haeing a wee bit glister on't." " Ah, Peter," said the Gaberlunzie, " he kens little o' nature wha kens nae that the tree wi' the rough bark may hae a sound core ; and the Carnwath Muir folks ken weel that the blackest peat sends forth the brightest lowe, and gies the maist heat. But the gieing hand is unca seldom toom, our worthy host has been aye unca weel provided for a' his days ; and it shall gang hard wi' me an' mine, if some day or other he disna get a mensefu' return for this and other kindnesses." " Hoot, awa' wi' your havers ! think ye that I either expect or seek a return for gieing a night's quarters to sic a set o jolly fellows in Kelpie Cleugh? Od, man, the hale bundle o' ye, THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 63 although staying a' the winter wi' us, wadna consume the pickle aits that grow on the bit auld moss that young Tam there has drained this year wi' his ain flaughter-spade. We're aye gettin the langer the richer. Carnwath Muir will soon be changed into Carnwath Garden. I, wha ance had enough ado to mak a living for the gudewife and myseF aff the farm, that then could barely keep half-a-dozen o' kye, hae brought up my bonny sonsy family in a mensefu' way, and can let ye see now as decent a dairy as ye'll find in mony places. True," added he, lifting up his little boy, and hold- ing him at armslength above his head, " it -will tak a while or this wee fellow be able to do for himsel'; but He wha has minded the faither winna forget the wee sprout o j his auld age. Ye are a' welcome; sae come awa, gudewife, see what ye hae to gie the puir bodies, they maun e'en be hungry an' cauld eneugh ; see ye gie them something to warm them." The best that was to be had was accordingly placed before the hungry and weary travellers. We were now in an excellent condition to stand a winter's blockade ; we had comfortable quarters ; a company, although smacking a little of what our host had humorously alluded to when he mentioned Noah's ark, never- theless containing great diversity of character, and possessing a sufficient fund of amusement to beguile the long nights. There was Peter, a perfect ubiquity; there was Willie with, according to report, a host of stories ; there was our host and his family, as fine a picture of Scottish peasantry as could be found anywhere ; there was Feckless Phemie, with her wild and irregular snatches of songs; there was the old and enthusiastic Fiddler; and, last not least, the Gaberlunzie, who, although not, strictly speaking, a " wight of Homer's craft," was a rhymer in his own way, sung his own songs, recited his own ballads, and made his own observations on men and manners with a considerable degree of terse vigour and broad humour. In- tensely national in his feelings, and with a voice naturally rich and mellifluous, he sung or recited his own productions with a breadth and strength which rendered them most effective, and without which our dear vernacular is shorn of all its characteristic beauty. When thus privileged to hear him, we were at no loss to account for the powerful effect which the songs of the wandering minstrels of Scotland had on the burly barons and gentle dames of the past ages. He, however, disclaimed all 64 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. praise on account of his qualifications in this line, and stated, as reasons for his having become a rhymer, that he was sorry to see the vigorous songs of his early days, and the witty jest books of a more recent period, banishing from the shelves of the farmhouses; and, although he professed all due respect for the useful knowledge contained in the penny publications which had been substituted, he hinted that it was a pity they possessed so little of the power of their predecessors ; so that, endeavouring to keep clear of the coarseness of the one, and the tameness of the other, he had strung together a few staves which had been well received, and had procured him many a kind look and good meal, together with comfortable quarters " Ay," said he, " an* some o' them hae cruppen into hearts, and nestled themsel's in bosoms whaur they are safely enshrined during the author's natural life, and nae gangrel bodie like me can expect or desire langer fame ; if ilka ane serves his time and his turn as weel as I hae dune, he'll hae little cause to complain, for the ' best o' folks are never miss'd,' far less we humble rhymers." THE BEST O' FOLK ARE NEVER MISS'D. WHEREFORE should man, though e'er so great In art or science, rank or state, Think muckle o' himsel', When he such humbling truths may read From the mute mansions of the dead ? Hark how the echoes swell ! When man is laid in death's cauld kist : E'en let him gang, he's never miss'd. Yet still he strives, and strives in vain, The top of Fame's high mount to gain. An' mak himsel' immortal ; Vain thought, whene'er life's taper's out, The strongest, sternest, loon maun lout An' pass thro' death's dark portal, And there maun lie an' tak his rest : The lave live on, he's never miss'd. THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. Thus man moves on year after year, Still in the same jog-trot career, Nor yet ae jot the better; Although in each succeeding age, There may have been some worthy sage, Wha's left the world his debtor ; The debt's unpaid, he little wist, When he was gane, he'd ne'er be miss'd. For proof vain mortals clamour loud. What ? doth not every funeral shroud The solemn truth proclaim, That soaring, sinking, wavering man Aspiring, only grasps a span, And dies with all his fame ; 66 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. Glory and fame, and honour's crest : Baubles begone ! ye're never miss'd. See yonder self-conceited fop, His mother's joy, his father's hope, Tho' doited, dull, and shilpit ; Had learn'd (great deed) to write and count, Got routh o' Greek to gaur him mount Into some patron's pulpit ; His schulin dune, he Tibby kiss'd, Took the red coat an' ne'er was miss'd. Ah ! see the orphan bairn, the herd, Lie wi' a book upon the sward, Teaching himsel' to read ; And in the course o' after years The same plilosopher appears Science and art to lead ; By Nature's students loved and bless'd : Death claims him, and he's never miss'd. See, see, the strong and stalwart swain In muscle, sinew, nerve, and bane, Like Hercules himsel' ; Just let the loon within the ring. An' sic a swanking blow he'll bring As might Goliath fell ; Yet, tho' even giants fear his fist, He's fell'd at last, and never miss'd. Or see the thundering son of Mars, The hero of a - hundred wars, Wha ance had a' mankind Led captive at his chariot wheels ; But now he glegly taks his heels. And scours aff like the wind ; His laurell'd pow lies soil'd in dust, And the great hero's never miss'd. THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 67 Behold the saint, whose eagle eye Pierces the clouds that shroud the sky, And who on faith's bright wing Can travel from earth's dark abode To the bright presence of his God, And, taught by heaven's Great King, Proclaimeth peace to all that list, Yet when he's gone he's never miss'd. Mark the Astronomer, whose skill O'er heaven's vast concave roams at will After each wandering star, Foretelling for a thousand years Each blazing comet that appears, Though in its light afar; His wondrous science shines confess'd, Yet the great Prophet's never miss'd. Or list the Bard, whose searching ken Surveys the hearts and homes of men, In every land and clime ; His heaven-concentred rays of light Illume the earth with radiance bright, And kindle thought sublime ; His magic power none can resist, Yet Nature's lover's never miss'd. Behold the Painter's vivid art Makes Nature from her canvas start In every varied hue ; Each placid vale and mountain storm, Each manly face and angel form, To life he pencils true, And lights each eye, and warms each breast, Yet, when he dies, he's never miss'd. List the Musician's seraph strain ! That thrills the heart in every vein With wild mysterious might, Recalls old scenes long, long gone by, Rouses the soul to raptures high, Or lulls it in delight ; 68 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. Alas ! the heaven-born melodist, When dead and gane, is never miss'd. But, lo ! our metaphysic frien's, Wha range men's minds like spats o' prins On paper sparkling white ; Conceited gowks ! they canna see The thoughts that rush through you and me, As swift as air and light ; Our mind's our ain, sae haud your whisht, E'en let them guess, they'll ne'er be miss'd. Behold the Patriot Saint, whose blood Water'd, as with a spring-tide flood, Sweet Freedom's sacred flower, His hallowed name is soon forgot, (O man, thou art a heartless sot, For all thy boasted power) ; Well may Heaven honour such a guest, For by the earth he's never miss'd. Behold yon ancient Abbey wall, Nodding and tottering to its fall, Bending to meet the earth ; Each time-worn, mossy, green grave-stone, With all its mock immortals gone, Each name, each death, each birth ; From all attempts at fame desist, Frail mortals, here you'll ne'er be miss'd! What could have induced our worthy old friend to give utterance to an epistle so long, prosy, and apparently out of place, at such a time, is more than we can account for. Per- haps he thought that too much importance is generally attached to small matters, and wanted to caution all present against the vainglory with which we are apt to cover ourselves, when conscious of having done something even of minor importance. Whatever might have been his motive, or however just his observations, certain it is, that his long catalogue of facts, which could not be easily confuted, was received very coldly by the party at Kelpie Cleugh. Even Feckless Phemie, who THE GABERLUNZI&S WALLET. , 69 had as usual retired behind backs, where she sat listless and quiet, commenced to chant in an under tone Tho' summer hath past, and the winter blast The death-knell of Nature hath rung ; Tho' chilling and cold be the blood of the old,. Yet warm is the breath of the young. And the woods shall ring with the voice of spring, And summer shall wake again ; And thought new-born shall light Life's morn, Till Time shall cry, Amen, Amen ; And Echo shall sigh, Amen. Human nature is exceedingly averse to contemplating its own dissolution. We all cling to the idea that we shall, in some shape or other, live hereafter ; and every one has a desire for celebrity in some particular department ; a love to attract the attention of his fellows. Whether it be self-esteem, or the love of approbation, that prompts us onward in our career, is of little moment, seeing that the result, even when attained, is but a temporary triumph; and often a fame highly prized by its possessor, is very limited both in time and space* Accord- ing to the Gaberlunzie, "the best o' folk are never miss'd;" but the most of us feel ourselves of some importance to the welfare of the community, and this perhaps furnishes the strongest incentive to human exertion. Hence, although we are all builders of airy castles,, without foundation or body, we do not love to be told that the structure which we have taken such delight in rearing has not a shadow of reality about it ; that the temple which had appeared to us a building strong enough to laugh at time, and defy the elements, is but " the baseless fabric of a vision ;" that the cloud-borne column, which had risen before us like a pillar of fire, shall fade away into thin air ; that with all our lofty aspirations and fond ima- ginings, we are little better than the bonny bairn building 70 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. CASTLES IN THE AIR. The bonnie, bonnie bairn, wha sits pokin' in the ase, Glowerin' in the fire wi' his wee round face ; Laughin' at the fufrm' lowe what sees he there ? Ha ! the young dreamer's biggin' castles in the air ! His wee chubby face, an' his touzie curly pow, Are laughin' an' noddin' to the dancin' lowe ; He'll brown his rosy cheeks, an' singe his sunny hair, Glow'rin' at the imps wi' their castles in the air. He sees muckle castles towerin' to the moon, He sees little sodgers pu'in' them a' doun ; Warlds whomling up an' down, bleezin' wi' a flare ; Losh, how he loups as they glimmer in the air ! For a 7 sae sage he looks, what can the laddie ken ? He's thinkin' upon naething, like mony mighty men ; A wee thing maks us think, a sma' thing maks us stare, There are mair folk than him biggin' castles in the air. Sic a night in winter may weel mak him cauld. His chin upon his buffy hand will soon mak him auld ; His brow is brent sae braid O pray that Daddy Care Wad let the wean alane, wi' his castles in the air. He'll glower at the fire, an' he'll keek at the light, But mony sparkling stars are swallow'd up by night ; Aulder een than his are glamour'd by a glare ; Hearts are broken heads are turn'd wi' castles in the air ! THE GABERLUNZI&S WALLET. 71 CHAPTER III. Change the song, and change the measure, Churlish Care gives way to Pleasure ; Chequering sunbeams kiss the glade, Light flies hand in hand with shade ; Rosy morning chases night, Farewell darkness, welcome light. Madrigal. THE old Fiddler, who, like most self-educated men of talent, had an exaggerated opinion of his own importance, and to whom the idea of annihilation was peculiarly obnoxious, treated all such notions with supreme contempt. He firmly believed that his melodies would live for ever, and that his name would endure along with them. It would have been cruel to annoy him, by expressing a doubt of what he so firmly believed ; and we must confess that he had almost made us a convert to his opinions, when, with much enthusiasm, and in the most emphatic manner, he thus addressed the Gaberlunzie " How can ye talk sae lightly o' fame, an' sae sneeringly about the forgetfulness o' man, when you yoursel' bear evi- dence to the contrary ? Will your countrymen ever forget you and your warld o' worth? Will they e'er forget your sangs an' your sayings? Na, na, forgetfulness may seek a hame whaur it can find ane; it has nae resting-place in braid Scot- land!" " I wad just observe," said wee Willie, " that the present time's ours ; and as you wise folks are no very sure about the future, ye should just enjoy yoursel's as weel as ye can e'now." "A vera gude remark, Willie," said Peter, "and a pawky ane ; wha wad hae thought that ye could hae gi'en the gude- man sic a slee hint about his bottle ? I'm sure I couldna hae done it." " Od, Peter, ye're right," roared our landlord. "Gudewife, see if ye can mak us a wee drap tovy warm stuff." 72 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. " In the meantime, Fiddler, ye'll maybe gie us a sang while the water's warming; our gudewife an' the lassies, I'm sure, wad like to hear ye." " Atweel ye shanna want that, my dawties ; and just to let ye hae a specimen o' my sangs, and to clear awa the cluds frae my auld freend's brow, I'll e'en try what I can do to burnish up the mirror o' my auld memory, so as to let him see himseP!" So saying, he sung the following song to an original melody, accompanied on the fiddle : THE GABERLUNZIE. BLYTHE be the auld Gaberlunzie man, Wi' his wallet o' wit, he fills a' the Ian' ; Wi' his blinks o' fun, and his blauds o' lear, O' a'thing that's gude he has walth to spare ; Has a warm Scotch heart, and a braid Scotch tongue. He has a' the auld sangs that ever were sung ; His daffin and quafnn, his glory and glee, Lichts up the auld spunk o' the North Countrie. His face bright wi' joy as the full harvest moon, Has braid lines o' grandeur he canna keep doun ; When his ae ee is muckle, his ither is wee, Baith set in his face like a balance ajee ; Keekin up, keekin down, keekin back, keekin fore, Wi' darts that through quarries o' whinstane might bore ; While his wide massy brow is sae towering an' high, O bauld is the Cock o' the North Countrie. He ne'er wants a friend, for he ne'er maks a foe, He's first to help poortith, and first to soothe woe ; While his bearing's so manly, his looks are so gay, Ye wad think that thro' life he had laugh'd a' the way ; INTERIOR OF KELPIE CLEUCH o'~Uai~, 'i,to spccre/; THE GABERLUNZIE S WALLET. 73 He seeks nae for crime, an' few fauts can he find, For he fain wad think weel o' the hail o' mankind ; An' he's a'body's body, baith muckle and wee, The couthie Auld Cock o' the North Countrie. For the blythe he's a smile, for the sad he's a tear, Nae ferlie we a' haud his blessin' sae dear ; For his hale haly heart's beated up wi' a lowe, That rays like a glory around his white pow, And glimmers like sunlight upon the white snaw ; He's the boast o' his kin, he's the pride o' us a' ; Gae search a' the world, an' ye's get a proud fee, Gin ye match the Auld Cock o' the North Countrie. This welcome effusion, which was sung and played in the fiddler's best style, was applauded in a manner to satisfy the Gaberlunzie that the estimate which his old friend and acquaint- ance had formed of his character was not overrated ; and that his merits were duly appreciated by the happy group which at present encircled him. His face, which during the progress of the song had been gradually resuming its wonted benignity of expression, was now lighted up with a brilliancy that contrasted finely with the cold indifference with which he had professed to look on all marks of distinction. He was proud of the song, and proud of the manner in which it was received. He was happy with himself, and consequently happy with all around him. He shook the Fiddler warmly by the hand, saying " Od man, ye play the fiddle as weel as e'er ye did ; ye're a second David, I declare ; ye hae chased awa the dark spirit that was hovering ower me ; and I'm now sae light-hearted, I could dance like a five-year-auld." " Hoot, man, I hae wyled a laverock frae the lift afore now/' said the Fiddler ; " I was sure I could soon heeze you out o' the slough o' despond, and gaur ye shake aff the gloomy burden that was weighing you doun ; whene'er I gat ye hookit fairly by the lug, I kenned ye wad change your tune." " Gie your fiddle the credit o't," said the Gaberlunzie. " Ay, but the bow was weel rosin'd," said the Fiddler. Wi' butter," said the Pedlar. " Sweeter than yours, or I couldna hae swallowed it," said the Gaberlunzie. 74 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. ^ " Needfu' folk are seldom nice," retorted the Pedlar. " Ye'll aiblins be glad o' mine, tho' it be a wee thing sautish, when ye canna get better." " Stap your ain gabby mou wi't e'now," said the Gaberlun- zie ; " here is something mair to my liking ; see ye that, man," said he, turning round to the two fair girls who seemed listen- ing with great delight, and sharing largely in the general admiration ; " ye see the auld Gaberlunzie is yet able to win the good graces o' the fair an' young. Come awa, my bonny dawties, an' gie us ane o' your muirland sangs ; nane e'er sound sae sweetly in my ears as the sangs o' our ain bonnie Scotch lassies, that they sing at their wark outby in the lang days o' simmer, or at the ingle-cheek in the lang nights o' winter ; so let's hear your twa voices mingling thegither as gin they were ane." The two sisters, who sat blushing intensely as all eyes were turned on them, after a little trepidation, and not a little press- ing, sung in delightful harmony the following song : THE GRAY HILL PLAID. HO' cauld and drear our muirland hame Amang the wreathes o' snaw, Yet love here lowes wi' purer flame Than lights the lordly ha' j For ilka shepherd's chequered plaid Has room enough for twa, And coshly shields his mountain maid Frae a' the blasts that blaw. Then hey the plaid ! the gray hill plaid, That haps the hearts sae true ; Dear, dear, to every mountain maid Are plaid and bonnet blue. What tho' we're few upon the muir, We lo'e each other mair, And to the weary wanderin puir We've comfort aye to spare. THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 75 The heart that feels for ithers' woes Can ne'er keep love awa ; And twa young hearts when beating close Can never lang be twa. Then hey the plaid ! the gray hill plaid, That haps the heart sae true ; Dear, dear, to every mountain maid Are plaid and bonnet blue. Why should I have felt uneasy at the singing of this song, which was delightfully warbled by two as sweet voices as ever mingled together? What had I to do with "The Gray Hill Plaid " but jot it down ? Why should I have been annoyed at the idea that Twa fond hearts when beating close Can never lang be twa ? How should such a sentiment, coming from the pure lips of the fair sisters, have roused the wrath, or stirred the jealousy, of the scribbler ? Ah, gentle reader ! it is high time thou shouldst know that, in visiting Kelpie Cleugh, he had some other object in view than merely to jot down what took place there for thy amusement. Had this not been the case, this narrative, tedious though it may be, would have been much more so. Yes, truth must out, and thou must imagine a mantling blush spread over the face of the humble lad, when he acknowledges that love had led, had dragged, him thither. The gentle nature, the Hebe form, the soft blue eyes, the glossy ringlets of Mary, which no man with life-blood in his veins could resist, had long, long ago, even at the dawning of those charms, now approaching maturity, made an impression, which every moment, during this eventful evening, was becoming stronger and deeper. Every kind look which she sent past him, even to his friend the Gaberlunzie, was watched by him with envious and scrupulous jealousy ; while lie continued in- wardly to curse his own awkward bashfulness, which prevented him from being able to do anything to attract her attention, or win a single approving smile. Oh ! love, love, what an incomprehensible, incorrigible, little vagabond art thou ! Thy birth, thy death, thy beginning, and 76 THE GABERLUNZIE'S WALLET. thy end, are alike shrouded in mystery ! Thy quips, thy cranks, thy fidgettings, thy crosses, and thy heart-burnings, make years of happiness seem moments, and little half-hour fits of jealousy seem ages ! Poets call thee blind, philosophers call thee foolish, lovers call thee cruel, yet all court thy smiles ; all breasts are laid bare to thy weapons ! Thou poor little wandering vagrant boy, who hast such nicknames applied to thee, yet still art able to make thyself a home in every heart, receiving a warm welcome from the dark eye of beauty, and a kindly reception from the open and manly face of thought ! Go to ! the boy is neither blind, foolish, nor cruel ; he is the most gentle monarch that ever swayed a sceptre, although nothing will serve him but sole and undivided dominion over the whole human family. Poets acknowledge that his aim is sure, and that his darts kill, where their paper-feathered shafts fall blunted and harm- less. Wise men confess that his foolishness is more than a match for their wisdom. Maidens, while they call him cruel, pat him on the cheek, or clasp him fondly to their bosoms. Buxom widows are an easy prey to the sly knave ; with his sun-bright wings he brushes the tear-drops of sorrow from their cheeks, or converts them into gems, to brighten the glowing eye of the twice-wedded bride. The old miser, who has spent three-quarters of a century in clutching the red gold, opens up, with his rusty keys, his strong box, to array the young and blushing bride, whose eyes have penetrated through the cran- nies of his narrow and contracted bosom, and illuminated his dark soul with a few glimpses of light and happiness previous to his taking leave of life for ever. The plodding man of busi- ness, who has reached middle life, without being annoyed by the tiny urchin, is arrested midway in his career by some tochered beauty, who shortly presents him with an image of himself, in due time qualified to take his father's place behind the counter, and marry, as his father did before him. Even young boys or girls who are only fit to be his own playmates, will Cupid attack, and wound their little hearts deeply, all in sport. As little Love was wandering, On a sultry summer day, He alighted to rest his weary wing Beside two children at play. THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 77 The one was a fair-hair'd, blue-eyed girl, The other a dark-eyed boy ; And they romp'd and wheel'd in a merry whirl, Till they fell asleep with joy. And Cupid the laughing urchin crept, As in slumber they smiling lay ; And he pierced their little breasts as they slept, Then flew unseen away. Long years, like rivers, swift will rush, And by the altar's side, To the Priest's " Wilt thou ?" with a sigh and a blush, Answers the gentle Bride. And the Bridegroom's "Yea," and the Priest's "Amen," Ring through the vaulted aisle ; While a Spirit repeats the tones again, As if whispering, " Hail, all hail !" On the altar's top sits Little Love, And he gives loud laughters three ; " My chains are wove in the regions above, What Priest can bind like me." Now Heaven preserve the King of Hearts, His burden is light to bear ; Were it not for his kissing and blessing arts, What mortal would tarry here ! Like the children in the foregoing ballad, at a very early period of my life I had become a prey to the snares of love. While girl and boy, Mary and I had been playmates, neigh- bours had called us sweethearts, and we believed them. My feelings remained unchanged, and it never had occurred to me that Mary's sentiments could, by any possibility, have become altered, and that she might now entertain for some manly lover a more womanly affection than she could be expected to feel for a boyish companion, of whom, during a number of years, she had heard little and seen nothing. A long period had elapsed since our parting, but her image still dwelt in my 78 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. memory as distinctly portrayed as at that moment when, with tears running down our cheeks, we kissed and murmured fare- well ; and I had set it down as a necessary consequence that she retained a similar recollection of me. We are too apt to believe what we hope. We are prone to conclude that others feel as we do ourselves ; and as some of our old friends had told us that " we were so like," that marriages were made in heaven, and tha't we seemed destined for each other, it had become a fixed point in my belief that, some day or other, this end would be accomplished. True, I had no reason for enter- taining this idea ; but love never reasons such a proceeding would be inconsistent with its character. The youthful heart, when steadily fixed on the object of its first adoration, con- tinually finds some new charm to arrest its attention, and to enchain its affections ; distance also helps to make assurance doubly sure in idea, and personal vanity is never wanting to assist hope in concluding that the passion is mutual, that the interchange of feeling is reciprocal. When lovers are about to meet again, after having been long separated, a world of doubts and fears begin to afflict, nay, to agonize them; every little circumstance or occurrence from their first meeting to their last parting is recalled to memory, and then, strange to say, the sky which hope had lit up so brilliantly becomes clouded and obscure. Reader, I appeal to yourself for you may at some period or other of life have been similarly circumstanced whether you have not, after having spent a long period, it may be many years, in a dreamy state of happiness, begun suddenly to recollect, upon approaching the spot which con- tained the treasure of your soul, that she had grown, since you last saw her, from a romping girl of twelve to a modest maiden of nineteen ? It is probable, also, if like me your lot has been cast in a large town, and your fair enslaver has resided in the country, that you may begin to feel, as you approach her habitation, surrounded with fresh nature and natural beauty, that it is impossible the beautiful and blooming cottage maid could ever feel happy in the pent-up domiciles of a crowded city. Perhaps, also, you may have occasion to recollect, that you can only offer her for a residence some lofty attic, from the windows of which, no doubt, you can command a charming prospect of hill and dale and valley ; yet so very highly exalted is this sky cradle of yours, that it requires considerable exertion THE GABERLUNZIE'S WALLET. 79 to reach it, and when once up, there is little inducement to bring you down again ; or perchance the view which, from such an altitude, you might naturally be expected to have, is shut out by some tall, broad, and uncouth chinney-stalk, which pre- vents you getting even a bird's-eye peep of the charming land- scape lying beyond it ; while you can only indulge in a forlorn hope that the spire-rocking storm will some time or other hurl to the earth the black and dingy object of your detestation. Such thoughts as these are sure to rise in your mind when, after a long absence, instead of being greeted with the warm shake of the hand, the glowing kiss, the clear and soft eyes peering into your face, all of which have dwelt in your memory since your last parting, you are received with a downcast look, a modest blush, and a respectful though distant courtesy. Jealousy instantly replaces love, and you are plunged at once into the midst of grief, trouble, and confusion. The very bash- fulness which is the never-failing accompaniment of love, and to which that elevating passion, when matured, always gives birth, partially extinguishes, by its apparent coldness, a flame which may be visible to all but those in whose breast it blazes most purely and brightly. In this position was I placed on the present occasion. I had been delighted with the first glance I had obtained of my old companion, though somewhat astonished to find the sylph-like form of my little playmate rounded and filled up into a perfect specimen of a Scotch beauty. Her figure was rather short, but finely proportioned ; her complexion clear and fair ; her blue eyes were beaming with rich, soft, and warm light. The crim- son which suffused her cheeks was a combination of delicacy and freshness, which you seldom see blended together, but in the face of a country girl. The under part of her countenance was round; her forehead, although not high, was broad and ample, and its extreme whiteness was finely relieved by the little black velvet band which confined her golden hair, while a few stray ringlets fell upon her transparent neck. She wore a light blue kerchief, and a short gown of pale tint, and her arms, as seen through the slight draping,' were tapered away with the most exquisite symmetry as they approached her little white hands. She was, in short, the very being I had pictured in imagina- tion, when, in the first burst of warm feeling, fired by youthful 8o THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. affection, I had made my first attempt at rhyme, and produced the following effusion, which had been as carefully treasured up in my memory, as the form of Mary had been indelibly engraven on my heart : MY BONNY MARY. O SAFT is the blink o' thine ee, lassie, Saft is the blink o' thine ee ; An' a bonny wee sun glimmers on its blue orb As kindly it glints upon me. The ringlets that twine round thy brow, lassie, Are gowden as gowden may be ; Like the wee curly cluds that play round the sun When he's just gaun to drap in the sea. Thou hast a bonny wee mou, lassie, As sweet as a body may pree ; An' fondly I'll pree that wee hinny mou E'en tho' thou shouldst frown upon me. Thou hast a lily white hand, lassie, As fair as a body may see ; An' saft is the touch o' that wee genty hand, At eve when thou partest wi' me. THE GABERLUNZIE S WALLET. 81 Thy thoughts are sae haly and pure, lassie, Thy heart is sae kind an' sae free ; That the bright sun o' heaven is nae pleased wi' himsel', Till he glasses himsel' in thine ee. O thou art a'thing to me, lassie, O thou art a'thing to me ; What care I altho' fortune should frown, Gin I gain the blythe blink o' thine ee ! I did not gain the blythe blink of Mary's eye at this particular time, however, and the cool and modest reception which she gave me produced a corresponding degree of bashfulness on my part. Every kind look which she sent past me, even to the 1 Gaberlunzie, I regarded with envy and jealousy; and although a looker on might have seen that Mary's confusion very much resembled mine, and that it might have proceeded from a similar cause, to me it assumed a very different aspect ; and when the Gaberlunzie praised her for the part she had taken in the singing of the Gray Hill Plaid, and applauded the sentiments embodied in the song, I could have looked Mary into annihila- tion, and cordially wished him anywhere but at Kelpie Cleugh. " Ay, ay," said he, " hillside wooing's best, pure and holy feelings can be best gi'en vent to whaur they are generated, and love can be best exchanged between twa young hearts, in the gloaming o' a simmer night, far awa frae aught but themsel's. How can love," he continued, " be made in a drawing-room, where Turkey carpet, rosewood furniture, silk hangings, sentimental albums, and braw painted French artificial flowers, strive in vain to rival the wild and sweet buds o' beauty bloom- ing outby ? When Papa and Mamma leave the room, and after a few preliminary hems, the starched candidate for matrimonial honours turns up the white of his eyes, looks his intended in the face, utters a few unintelligible sentences, gets on his knees, and beseeches the mistress of his soul to have compassion on him, while she, good kind dear, with half-averted looks, utters a few encouraging words, and refers her lover to Pa for farther explanation. Pa enters at the moment, sees what has been going on, leads his young friend into the dining-room, fills a bumper, and, with a sly leer, proposes married life. This may do, maun do," continued he, " for toun birkies, wha ken nae F 82 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. better ; but commend me to the gray plaid and the hillside, whaur wi' your arms round your lassie's waist, without uttering a word, your ee tells the sweet tale o' love, and your breast is like to burst wi 7 smothered an' stifled sobs o' joy. Here love, always most eloquent when silent, holds purest and holiest communion." This was a direct lunge at me, and I felt it deeply, although I managed effectually to conceal my feelings, and to join in the laugh against myself -with apparent good humour. My pride, however, was much mortified at being made the butt of such a company, and it was not until the young farmer, who had been requested 'to sing, had proceeded some length with the following song, that I began to find myself sufficiently at ease to perceive that his was a breast from which I might expect sympathy : he was evidently in love, and deeply. " A fellow feeling makes us wondrous kind," and I loved him. OH, WHAT IS THIS THAT RACKS MY BREAST? Oh, .what is this that racks my breast, And fleys my peace o* mind a - wa, An* j^- 1 mor - ning daw? maks me tyne my night ly rest, And wea - ry I daun-der doun the dow - ie glen, I lin - ger on the lane ly lea. An' in some dark an* ee - rie den, I fain wad lay me doun an' dee. OH, what is this that racks my breast, And fleys my peace o' mind awa, An' maks me tyne my nightly rest, An' weary for the morning daw? I daunder doun the dowie glen, I linger on the lanely lee, An' in some dark an' eerie den I fain wad lay me doun .an' dee. THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 83 I heave nae sigh, I mak nae mane, I let nae tear bedim my ee, But mix wi' follies light an' vain, To wyle awa my misery. Few ken the hearts they meet wi' here, Few trow there's grief they canna see ; And e'en the maid I lo'e sae dear Shall never guess the dool I dree. 'Tis hopeless love an' sad despair, Cast by the glamour o' thine ee, That cluds my waukrife dreams wi' care, And maks the daylight dark to me. I canna hope nor ask for mair Than ae wee pearly tear frae thee ; An' gin thy een hae ane to spare, In pity let it fa' for me. What an endless variety of tastes and dispositions is to be met with among mankind I One class love comedy, another tragedy, and another nothing. The last are the worst : nothing pleases, nothing displeases them ; they carry about the same unmeaning stare with them at all times, and look so provokingly quiet and unruffled, that a man who in a towering passion would fain grasp them by the coat-collar, and shake them to pieces, has no resource but to turn on himself and tear his own clothes to tatters instead of theirs. Although we had none of this latter stamp at Kelpie Cleugh, we neither lacked variety of taste nor diversity of character ; the one always accompanies the other, and the singing of the foregoing verses gave rise to the expression of various opinions. For my own part, I was perfectly enraptured with the song, and thought I could discern a corresponding sentiment in the face of Mary, as she raised her eyes from her brother, on whom they had been reposing, and cast a momentary glance on me. Instantaneous though it was, it shot through me like lightning ; and I felt my whole frame vibrating with emotion, and my heart beating quick and loud within me. What would I have given for a word of explanation, for one half-hour in the Gray Hill Plaid ? The song, however, seemed to have a very different effect on our host : to him it was evidently a sickener ; and he thus pro- 84 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. ceeded " Hech, man, ye are a sapless branch of the auld stock; ye senseless sumph, is that the way to win a lassie, blubberin' that gait ? Od, at your age I wadna hae sang a sang o' that kind for a Highland Society premium. I aye wooed an' won my lassie wi' a merry face an' a light heart ; and gin she did get a wee thing gyte whiles at my daffin, a chuck under the chin, a leer o' the ee, an' a smirk o' the mou, soon made our quarrel up again. My fegs, the auld times and the auld chiels had the best o't; but then we didna stand at trifles. In those days, instead o' mumping ower the fire at night, I hae seen me think nae mair o' crossing seven miles o' muir after nightfa' to see my lassie, than ye wad do o' takin' your supper, ye lazy loun ! Od, girnin' folk are aye lazy." " Hoot, ye maunna be ower hard on your son," said the Gaberlunzie ; " the young heart has aye mair sentiment than the head has wit, an' I like the heart that feels better than the tongue that's aye gaun." " Ay, but when baith gang thegither, it's mair profitable and edifying," interponed the Pedlar. "Ye auld farrant, warldly-minded creature," said the Gaberlunzie, " wad ye hae folks to buy an' sell hearts as ye do ribbons, aye wi' an ee to profit? Na, na; true love an' selfishness canna bide in ae breast thegither. When ye begin to count cost, yere a trafficker in gear ; love canna be bartered awa like an auld horse : the heart maun be gi'en freely, or it's no worth haeing ; and I'm no very sure but our ain gudeman had gi'en his in this way, or ever he kenned whether or no he had gotten that ane in return, which has now throbbed beside his warmly and fondly for sae mony years." " I'm no disputing what ye say," said Tarn, " but out wi't ; tell the lassie ye like her, and there's an end o't. Gin she gies ye a naysay, be done wi' her, an' tell her to tak her ain way o't ; leave her to the freedom o' her ain will, an' she'll maybe throw hersel' in your way after a'." " That she will," said Peter; " she may pass ye ance or twice, wi' her head ajee, and her neck bent like a swan; but watch her weel, and gin ye catch a slee corner o' her ee keekin at ye, cross ye the road half-way to meet her ; it's better aye to halve the difference at a niffer than to part as ye met, ilka ane bearin hame wi' him what he brought to the market for sale. He's a silly chapman wha winna rather come and gang a wee than THE GABERLUNZIE S WALLET. 85 keep his goods and let a' his trouble and travel gang for naething." " I wadna grudge ony trouble to please a lassie," said Tarn ; " but gin she canna be wooed wi' coaxing, she winna be won wi' greetin ; and gin ye canna raise a smile on her face, ye shouldna try to draw a tear frae her ee." "Ay; but every ane canna conquer wi' a look like you," said the Gaberlunzie. " I hae seen glibber mou'd louns than you tongue-tackit on sic occasions ; even our toun-bred birkie, Jot there, looks as beglomered like enow, as gin he had seen a warlock, and as mini as gin he had haen his tongue whiskit out of his mou by some wee witch or ither." I must have looked daggers at the speaker, but I said nothing. " My young friend," said the farmer, " will find his tongue some time, an' to purpose. I hae heard him when he was but a bairn beat his auld maiden aunty in Edinburgh yonder to sticks ; and it's no easy gettin the last word o' her, puir body, wi' her lang tongue and her lang stories. My sang, Peter, ye wad hae nae chance wi' her ; I wad gie something to see you an' her yokit." "They wha can beat yoursel', gudeman, hae jist anither to beat," said Peter. " Saftly, sweetly, Peter," whispered the Gaberlunzie. " But now," said the Pedlar, turning to me, " there's ae advice I hae to gie ye : my young friend, ye maunna keep your breast locked up without tellin her wha keeps the keys o't, else how is she to ken it's in her keepin ? Meantime, as ye hae a' been sae hard on the young folk, and hae set the very lasses a blushing (so they were, especially Mary), and as ye hae a 7 been singing sae bonnily, I'll e'en volunteer ye a sang mysel' ; and as the young folk hae had sae muckle o't, I'll try and gie ye something that will be relished by the auld anes. What ^think ye o' 86 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. "OLD AGE'S GARLAND? " O CAULD maun the heart be that's no set a-lowe, When honour's green wreath circles eild's snawy pow ; THE GABERLUNZIE S WALLET. 87 And dim maun the ee be that glists nae to see The young green buds sproutin 7 frae out the auld tree : O ripe is the fruit on the steive tree o 7 age, Tho' age wad be young, an' tho' youth wad be sage ; There's nought half sae haly in a' Nature's plan, As a white-headed, warm-hearted, couthie auld man. " When friends m. auld age hae been cronies in youth, On baith sides there's honour, on baith sides there's truth ; When white pow and white pow forgather wi' ither, Wha life's stormy billows hae breasted thegither : The lown lowe o' virtue, Time's chilly sky warms, And Truth is borne upwards in Hope's loving arms ; For Time's but a footstep, and Life's but a span, But Heaven's the hame o' ilk couthie auld man. " And friendship's pure flame never sparkled more bright Than around this kind circle of friendship to-night ; And the healths that we pledge, and the bumpers we drain, Shall oft be repeated by warm hearts again : When a couthie auld friend, at the quiet chimney-neuk, Spends an hour wi' a friend, and an hour wi' a beuk, An' whiles steps abroad to keep right a' the Ian', O wha wadna be sic a couthie auld man ! " This song enlivened the hearts of all the company ; the old folks were particularly joyous, and another bumper was drained to auld friends, auld langsyne, and better acquaintance. The Gaberlunzie and Fiddler seemed-, to feel the green leaves rustling round their brows ; Willie and Maggy were in high spirits ; the Fiddler tuned his fiddle, the floor was cleared, and we commenced to foot it away right merrily ; the Gaberlunzie and the goodwife, the landlord and Maggy, being the most im- portant' personages, led off as a matter of course the first reel. Willie and Peter elicited much applause by their nimble performance ; both being small in stature, a sort of rivalry seemed to spring up between them. Armless Willie made up for the want of thumbs to crack, by making his feet clatter like a pair of castanets. Peter's hunchback was almost straightened by the way he elevated his head, and threw back his shoulders, and there he bobbed away, like one of those little jumping- 88 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. jacks to be seen in toy-shops, kicking and throwing about their legs and arms with the most astonishing agility. The girls and their brother also skipped away with great spirit and elegance through the long stretches of reels and strathspeys which seemed to grow under the fiddler's bow-hand; I of course became as mad as the others ; and after a few electric touches of Mary's hand as we crossed and set in the dance, I was almost as happy as if I had been the owner of the Gray Hill Plaid. I felt a returning confidence that her heart was still my own ; and such a strange compound of joy and woe are we here were the young farmer and myself, who half an hour before seemed sinking in despair, now footing it away as merrily and lightly as if care had never crossed our paths ! All was madness and merriment. " We reel'd, we set, we crossed, we cleekit," until tables and chairs seemed to be leaping as merrily as ever trees danced to Orpheus. The very cows in the outhouses seemed to be startled with the noise, and bellowed most lustily, as well as they might. This was none of your prim and demure dress ball parties, but a family circle of Scotch men and women, lads and lassies, dancing with all their vigour genuine Scotch reels and strathspeys on the earthen floor of a Carnwath farmer's kitchen. In the brief disquisition on music formerly given, I omitted to notice its effects on the Scotch (a nation proverbially fond of melody), but shall afterwards have opportunities of doing so, when describing Scotch weddings, kirns, and other merry- making occasions where broad-browed and broad-shouldered ploughmen exhibit as much mettle in their heels as would wear the wind out of a dozen Highland pipers. A few of these scenes may be expected to be met with in our travels, when I shall have occasion to notice the national peculiarities in this particular above alluded to. In the meantime, alas ! I am called away from this description to record one of those touch- ing and melancholy incidents with which Providence, in its inscrutable wisdom, sees fit to cloud the brightest scenes of our existence. Poor Feckless Phemie, who at the commencement of the dance had shrunk aside from observation, was now amissing, and the honest farmer and fiddler, both of whom blamed THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 89 themselves for having frightened her away with their boisterous mirth, immediately had the house searched in every corner for her, but in vain : the outhouses were explored with a similar result, but footsteps were traced to the old castle, on one of the old fragments of which she was discovered seated, singing in a low voice Tho' the morning of life be flooded with light, Sparkling with glory, and breathing with balm, Yet the evening of life should be still as the night, All imbued with a holy calm. Then come sweet death, With thy gentle breath, Hush me asleep on the midnight heath ! She spoke no more, she moved not at our call, and when we approached her death had indeed come to her on the mid- night heath, and Feckless Phemie was no more. An event like this happening at such a time changed the scene of merriment to one of wailing and woe ; the faces which had but the instant before been lighted up with smiles were now bedewed with tears ; those whose mirth had been most boisterous were loudest in their lamentations. Death, at whatever time he comes, is always an unwelcome guest ; but when he unexpectedly and suddenly obtrudes himself into the midst of gaiety, his appearance is peculiarly appalling. The whole festivity of the scene was at an end; all held their breaths as they gazed on the dead body, then looked at each other with awe-stricken countenances. The poor idiot boy, who had been asleep, awoke, and not comprehending the change which had taken place on his deliverer, began to shake her hand and to pat her cheek, evidently expecting her to open her eyes and smile on him. It was with great difficulty we could tear him away ; and when he did get some glimmering of the truth, he laid his head on his grandfather's knee, and sobbed as if his heart were breaking. The strong emotion betrayed by the old Fiddler deeply affected us all; he gazed in the face of the deceased, and pressed her hand between his with much tenderness ; his whole frame heaved with strong internal commotion ; and the deep- seated melancholy, which has been elsewhere adverted to as 90 THE GABERLUNZIE S WALLET. indicated in his face, now assumed a gloomier and sterner character. So great was the change of expression, that we were scarcely able to recognise him as the same being who, but a few minutes before, had been the leader in our merry and light-hearted sport. After having gazed long and eagerly on the features of the poor lifeless creature, a stream of tears at length came coursing down his furrowed cheeks, and, amid broken sighs, he exclaimed, " Poor wounded bird, thy broken heart hath now ceased to beat ; the throbbings of thy swelling breast are now at rest for ever ; thy woes have been pitied ; thy wrongs have been avenged ! Wherefore should I live longer ? Would that I had died with thee, my poor dead Phemie ! " He sunk back in a swoon, and only recovered to fall into a dis- turbed slumber, out of which he frequently started, as if aroused by some horrible recollection. " Rest, weary wanderer, rest !" said the Gaberlunzie, contem- plating the unconscious musician with a look of deep sympathy, " many have been thy trials ; thy long journey through life hath been one of sorrow and trouble, and although now in all pro- bability near a conclusion, the future shows but a dark prospect, without one ray of hope to enliven the scene ; and poor Phemie hath what few can boast of a faithful and sincere mourner." With this unexpected and heavy dispensation in the house, it was impossible that any of us could think of going to bed, and the morning dawn saw us all seated where we had passed the night. At a very late hour, when we were nigh worn out, the Gaberlunzie roused us from our lethargy by reciting the following ballad of Mary Hay, a poor maiden in an adjoining county, whose fate, he said, bore some resemblance to that of Feckless Phemie : THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 91 MARY HAY. WEET flowers will blow, sweet flowers will fade, The fleeter that they're fair. And Mary Hay was the fairest maid In all the shire of Ayr ; And bold Sir Hugh was as true a Knight As ever worshipp'd Beauty bright. What tho' his home was the castle high, And hers the cottage low ? The sparkling dart from Beauty's eye Is match for valour's bow ; Heaven bends to earth full fraught with love, And earth seeks love in heaven above. And Matthew Hay was a fearless man, Chief of a daring crew, Who pledged him their troth o'er a flowing can, And dubb'd him the Old True Blue; And over the ocean and over the land His will was the law, and his wish the command. What tho' he traffick'd in contraband goods, Braving the law's strong ban ; How many of our nobles may trace their bloods To some bold and fearless man ! And bold and fearless he e'en must be Who achieves his own nobility. Sir Hugh traced his kin to a distant time ; Matthew swore he would found a race, And build a strong castle of stone and lime, Where future ages might trace In sculptured story what deeds he could dare, To leave such a dower to his daughter fair. 92 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. Tho' fortune often favours the brave, The battle's not aye to the strong ; And Matthew danced o'er the dancing wave On the end of a hempen thong ; For why? the law was stronger than he, And swung him afoft on his own cross-tree. There is a passion that God hath bless'd, 'Tis born in Heaven above ; No feeling that lurks in the human breast Can match a parent's love ; When love and light from the Earth hath flown, A child shall ask bread and find a stone. And Matthew had been to Mary Hay A father fond and true ; And ah ! should the flower be cast away, Though in the wild it grew : Oh ! nourish it in thy warmest bower, And none shall bloom like the mountain-flower. So the Baron felt, and the Baron said, And he kept by his plighted troth ; For he prized above price for his peerless maid, And he valued his heart-sworn oath : And well he knew that scandal's tongue Dared ne'er be breathed while his falchion rung. The day was set, and her kindred met, And Mary was dress'd in white ; And her eyes, half-hid in their fringes of jet, Were sparkling in joyous light, Illumining all hearts with each glance and gleam> Like the straggling light of a stray sunbeam. And the Priest was there ; and the Bridesmaid fair Was slyly jibing the Bride, As the hour past by and no Bridegroom came nigh, " Must maids such freaks abide? Another minute, and then, and then, I'd shut my heart against love and men ! " THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 93 The old Mother, too, had doff d her black On her daughter's bridal day ; And though her heart was sad, alack ! She smiled through her locks of gray : And " Mary, Mary dear," she cried, " It was not thus when I was a bride." Another hour, and the day grows dark, It is a December day; No Bridegroom yet no horse-hoofs. Hark ! 'Tis his ; ah ! well-away, 'Tis Hope's ear drinking the rushing air, For neither rider nor steed is there. And Mary hath fled from her kindred's gaze Into her little room ; And as hope fled with his glittering rays, Still darker grew the gloom ; And scowled each brow, and swelled each form, Like the gathering wrath of a mountain storm. " Now speed thee onward, my gallant gray, From the ice strike sparkling fire ; And this night I shall wed my Mary Hay Despite my kindred's ire ; For my mother, grammercy, the croaking crone,- Hath scarced me with bodings till day hath gone.'* The steed he flew like the wild-fire flight Scorching the mountain brow : Sir Hugh, Sir Hugh, approach not to-night That house of wrath and woe; Thine own sweet Mary is not there, Nor aught but the wailing of dark despair. She is gone ; they seek her east and west, They call her up and down ; But away, heart-struck from her parent's nest, The mateless bird hath flown : Alack ! and the cold December night Is an ominous time for a maiden's flight. 94 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. They have sought, and searched, and track'd in vain The land and the half-frozen river ; They can trace no footsteps over the plain She is lost, she is lost for ever ; But hope still nerves the lover's heart, " We perish together, but never part." He is all alone on the frozen lea, He hath cross'd the crackling ford, And her fairy footprints he can see, Now Glory to the Lord ; For the moon, and the snow, make a silvery day, And he traces her steps in the flickering ray. And lo ! a shuddering chills his frame, As, ascending the snow-clad hill, He hears in whispers his well-known name Waking the silence still ; Softly floating, like seraph's song, While hush'd ; he listeth, and stealeth along. And on the hill top, like a spirit all white, In her bridal robes array'd, Gazing upon the moon's pale light, Sitteth the love-lorn maid ; Pressing her hand on her throbbing heart, That leaps, as it fain from her bosom would start. " Mary ! Mary ! " but still she sate Gazing at the moon ; " In my bridal chamber here I wait And my lover cometh soon ; My brain is a-fire, the snow is a-cold, And love dances light on the pearly wold." " Mary ! " he cried, and the maid awoke (Ah, Love hath potent charms) ; But alas ! her wounded heart had broke, And she fell all dead in his arms ; And a cold dead bride to his bosom he strains, Chilling the blood that flow'd thro' his veins. THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET 95 Some bosoms will sigh, and their sighs will burst In gushing fountains of tears ; But is not the burning heart accurst Which can live through long, long years, Without a sigh, without a tear ? Alas ! griefs living grave is here. Sir Hugh sits in his Baron's Hall Draining the goblet deep, Till the guests at the gorgeous festival Are all dead fast asleep ; And he gazeth upon the vacant chair, Till Mary's sainted form is there. God wot but the lights shed a ghastly glare, Blending the quick and the dead ; When the Baron fell back in his high oaken chair, And, as his spirit fled, A whisper was heard, faintly dying away, I come I come rny Mary Hay J 96 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. CHAPTER IV. Bring May flowers And July showers, Strew them o'er December snow ; Joy will weep, Grief will sleep, Heigh ho ! how the wind will blow. Old Chant. MANY of the readers of this homely story must long ago have been weary of Kelpie Cleugh ; and it must be confessed there is little inducement to remain longer there at present. Very few love to linger in the house of mourning ; and being, like most others, more partial to the sweet than the bitter in the cup of life, I shall not attempt to moralize on what every day's experience teaches, namely, the uncertainty of life, and the universal mortality of man. One such scene as had just been witnessed makes a more lasting impression than many homilies ; and to pain the mind by useless comment is neither salutary nor wise. The voice of wisdom is seldom heard attempting to comfort the mourner while his wounds are fresh and green, and the noisy tongue of the fool falls like the blazing thorn crackling to the ground. The silent tear, the sympathetic pressure of the hand, the kind look, does more to soothe sorrow than the sound of the most mellifluous voice; and the oppressed heart finds relief only in solitude and silence. Accordingly, following the course most in unison with the general feelings and experience of human nature, I leave Kelpie Cleugh with a sigh and a tear, and have now to introduce on the scene of action several other characters,- who are destined to figure in the pages of this faithful and veracious narrative. Novelty and variety perhaps constitute the chief charms of existence. Nothing tends so much to detract from the value of anything intrinsically good as frequent repetition. Every picturesque view, when first looked on, produces a sensation felt at no future visit ; every new discovery in science or art produces a similar effect on the mind of the discoverer. The THE GABERLUNZI&S WALLET. 97 freshness of the country is relished most by the inhabitants of cities; and what can exceed the unsophisticated pleasure expressed in those honest country faces we see staring at the shop windows in large towns? It is well therefore that, in accordance with such sentiments, the course of this story renders it necessary to leave for a time the remote district of Carnwath Muir, for the Queen of the North, the old and romantic capital of Scotland, which I take leave to introduce to my readers with the Gaberlunzie's ADDRESS TO EDINBURGH. jLL hail ! proud boast of Scotia's heart, Mistress of Learning, Queen of Art, Supreme thou art alone ; Thy lofty brow all girt with bays, While glory with a thousand rays Lights up thy mountain throne ; Thy queenly form, now wrapt in storm, Now mass'd in sunny splendour, While flitting hues and varied views Add to thy regal grandeur ; Now darkling, now sparkling, 'Twixt shadow, shade, and light ; Now chequering, now flickering, In beauty beaming bright. Arouse, sweet damsel ! like yourseP, E'en blooming like a bonny belle, On each cheek show a dimple , Open your mou, lift up your brow, An' let your glances glamour through, Wi' sunny twinkling wimple ; 98 THE GABERLUNZI&S WALLET. To kindle up the loving hearts O' a' thy buirdly bairns, Wha are as proud o' thy deserts As Highlanders o' cairns ; Thus beaming, and streaming, Strike thou thyself the lyre, Enlightening and brightening Our souls with kindred fire. Bold, towering high aboon the lave, Facing the storm erect and brave, Heaves high thy Castle Rock ; Wee wild flowers clustering, blossom fair, Among the ridges bleak an' bare, Hew'd at ae thunder stroke ; While tiny fissures flickering through, Break up the rock's bold lines, And the strong wall around its brow A coronet entwines ; Embedded and braided With many a gurly gun ; While lowering and towering High turrets kiss the sun. Yet up within that stalwart wall Rises the grated arsenal, Death's* dark and deadly store ; With guns and cannon, swords and balls, Enough to send a million sauls To Pluto's dreary shore ; And ranging round the summit high, In buildings stern and strong, A thousand gallant heroes lie Piping the peaceful song ; While far past their war blast Is heard in distant tones, Still lengthened and strengthen'd By foeman's dying groans. Two hills stretch forth from east to west, Each raising high his lofty crest, THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 99 Each rivalling the other ; One boasts a town all young and gay, One bears a city old and gray, The daughter and the mother ; Here antique Art's gigantic form Her lofty grandeur rears ; There modern Art all uniform Like one day's work appears ; While joining them, and twining them, Sweet Nature reigns as queen, Embowering and flowering The lovely vale between. Look on that strath of beauty bright, Now sparkling in the sunny light Of Day's emblazoned King ; With giant rock and grassy hill In one broad mass reposing still, In shadow slumbering ; And in the vale, all glistening green, Fair flowers and leafy trees Are dancing in the sunny sheen, Or waving in the breeze ; Enraptured and captured Beams every ravish'd eye, While welling and swelling Each breast is heaving high. Along the southern ridge survey These stern old buildings, gaunt and gray, Huge piles that mount on high ; And 'mid the hoary ancient town See old Saint Giles' imperial crown Majestic top the sky; While tufted turret, leaf, and flower Gleam in the sunbeams bright, And sombre aisle and buttressed tower Throw shadows dark as night ; The mind here may find here Food for instructive lore, While wandering and pondering O'er busy scenes of yore. ioo THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. Strong pile ! thou hast a witness been To many a dark and bloody scene Of blind sectarian rage \ Still steadfast as th' Eternal Truth, Thou standst erect as in thy youth, Though silver'd o'er with age ; So shall the glorious Lamp of Life, Fann'd by the breath of peace, Blaze bright, when all sectarian strife And bigot war shall cease ; The Truth then, in youth then, Unchoked by party spleen, With light showers and bright flowers Shall blossom evergreen. Amid the noisy floods of strife That swell the tide of human life Around on every side, Old gloomy mansions meet the eye, Stern monuments of times gone by, Of ancient pomp and pride ; Each shelving stair, each slanting close, Each low-brow'd dusky wynd, Recalls old tales that kindle throes In every patriot mind ; We grieve them, we leave them, In sad and silent mood, To gaze on and muse on The sacred Holyrood. Is there a Scot but feels his heart Pierced to the core by sorrow's dart, While gazing sadly on These ancient mouldering Abbey walls, Those lone deserted Palace halls, That vacant kingless throne ! The seat of Scotia's doughty Kings, And hapless lovely Queen, Where Pleasure spread her fairy wings O'er many a festal scene ; THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. And there then, all fair then, Were Dame and Lady bright ; All warded and guarded By burly Lord and Knight. Those were the ever-hallow'd days When manhood's might and beauty's blaze Bedeck'd old Holyrood ; When Genius, Learning, Wit, and Worth, Enrich'd our Palace of the North With all the great and good ; Alack ! no native sovereign now Will feed our native fire ; Our very thistle 'gins to dow, Our auld tongue to expire ; Our sports a', our courts a', Are now but scant an' sma' \ Our lealty, our fealty, The Southerns hae awa. Our Palace in its gloaming gray, Like age at close o' life's long day, A stranger stands alone ; These ancient massy mansions round, Where nobles joy'd, now echoing sound With poortith's hollow moan ; God help the poor, and help their cause r Or else they're sair deserted ; And we but gaze on mouldering wa's, To dream o' days departed ; Our Town now will soon now. Its life and vigour gane, Be runnin to Lunnin, A' but the lime an' stane. Say, is it just, or wise, or fair, To strip Auld Scotland's back sae bare ? Why should we stand it langer ? Edina's Sons, but back ye me, An' in a trice we'll let them see We hae just cause for anger THE GABERLUNZIES WALLE2. Is there nae Scot to take our part Amang Saint Stephen's thrang, Wha'll gie tongue to his country's heart,- An' gaur them right her wrang ? All aimless, and flameless, Will none of ye arouse ? For shame, men ! the theme, men, Even dumbies' tongues might lowse ! Proclaim aloud in brow-knit mood, How it were for all the nation's good, And for her Gentry's pleasure, That in each capital were spent By Queen, and Court, and Parliament, Part o' their time and treasure ; But swelling up an o'ergrown wen, Feeding an o'erfed maw, I'm heart-sick dreaming o' the den, Let's off Muse and awa ; Arising, rejoicing, Among our native hills ; Ascending, expanding, Each eye and bosom fills. Up to the Lion, Arthur's Seat ; . Up with the sun, ere yet his heat Hath parch'd up hill and vale ; Ascend, Muse, with these clouds of dew, That rise from every mountain's brow, Dissolving thin and pale ; Gaze forth upon the glorious scene, Wood, water, dale, and down, The landscape lit with gold and green, The dun and dusky town ; Surrounded and bounded This airy region seems ; All teeming and streaming With heaven's ethereal beams. The morning sun now glances bright In one broad sparkling stream of light THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 103 Athwart the sleeping sea ; Tipping with flame each mast and sail Reposing on Forth's liquid vale In slumber drowsily ; As morning breaks all Nature wakes, Earth, ocean lives anew ; And infant Day, rosy and gay, Laughs in the concave blue ; While liralling and carolling, The Lark and Linnet sweet, All tingling and mingling, In warbling concert meet. Now all around those distant hills, South, east, and west the vision fills With one great mountain chain ; While tufted woods are waving green, And rivers, lakes, and streams are seen Meandering to the main ; And many a dark and lonely glade That mocks the lowland gaze, Is seen emerging from the shade, Or chequering through the haze ; And nooks sweet, where brooks meet, Now hail the eye of day ; Where roaming at gloaming Fond lovers unseen stray. Behold that hill which towers sublime. Gay, green as Youth, and dark as Time, Bank, slope, and ridge appear ; While Temple, Tower, and Monument, In one bold rugged outline blent, Their lofty heads appear ; One new-born Temple caps its top, To Scotland's bosom dear, Yet, while her breast swells high with hope, She sheds a silent tear ; Lest all her tried valour No other meed should gain, To story her glory Than this unfinish'd fane. 104 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. Awake my country, why delay ? Ye slumber in the blaze of day, All shameless in your shame ; To let this noble fragment stand A wreck, unfinish'd, and a brand Upon the Scottish name ; While strangers as they pass it by Thus sneeringly deride " There stands old Scotland's Poverty, And poor old Scotland's Pride." Come, start men, show heart, men, Be soul and sinew strain'd, Till ample, this temple, Shall tell the conquest gain'd. Come forth with throbbing breasts and hearts, Come forth like men and play your parts, Come forth in patriot bands j Let Highland heart and Lowland breast Swell proudly as the mountain crest On which that temple stands ; Resume your noble work of love, Stint not your country's fame, Until her glory gleams above In characters of flame j Then flourishing, and nourishing Art, science, love, and peace, Our north home shall forth come, And rival ancient Greece ! THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 105 XTTLE more than a quarter of a century has elapsed since the Old Town of Edinburgh pre- sented an interesting picture of the peculiar habits of our ancestors. Their modes of living - and thinking their political and domestic economy their public and private character were all more or less distinctly shadowed forth by the over- crowded and incongruous, though unique and picturesque, buildings to be met with in every quarter of the ancient city. An anxiety on the part of the citizens in old times to locate under protection of the Castle, as well as a desire to afford each other mutual assist- ance, seems to have been the chief reason why they wedged their dwellings so closely together, raising pile on pile, till they had reached the dizzy heights still retained by many an airy attic, whose substructure rivals in ruggedness and boldness the rocks on which they are founded. Their descendants, our more immediate ancestors, had no idea of extending the boundaries of the City to meet the demands of the increasing population ; and there can be little doubt that, for a time, they were sorely put to their shifts for lack of room. They had lost a considerable portion of the daring spirit of their progenitors, and seem to have been afraid that if they attempted to add any thing to the height of those very old houses they might tumble down about their ears like the Tower of Babel, burying the unfortunate builders in the ruins. They were rapidly exchang- ing the sword for the shuttle, becoming men of business instead of men of war. They were beginning to accumulate wealth, and to appreciate its true value in procuring the comforts of life ; and the clink of coin began to sound more agreeably in their ears than the voice of the brazen -throated trumpet. Accordingly, when at their wits' end for want of accommoda- tion, the propriety of cutting down a forest in the vicinity of the city was suggested, and allowing the inhabitants to use it in adding wooden projecting fronts to the fine old stone structures. The rage for building, even with wood, once set a-going, is not io6 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. easily stopped ; and in many instances six and eight storeys of wooden tenements were attached to the hewn-stone edifices which had originally fronted the High Street. Besides these projecting balconies and cased fronts,* other structures of strange form were raised in the centre of the most public thoroughfares ; and the consequence was, that the High Street, which had been at one time unmatched in Europe, was dis- figured, and its uniformity completely destroyed, by these un- couth erections. Those unacquainted with the social and domestic statistics of ancient Edinburgh would, when looking at the buildings which are still crowded together in many parts of the Old Town, be apt to conclude that their inhabitants could have enjoyed but little of either health or comfort in such dark and dingy domiciles. One, however, who knew a little better, and who looked more closely, would see much to induce him to form a very different opinion. He would find that those old houses were constructed in every particular with a strict regard to com- fort he would find in many portions of them specimens of art not excelled in the present age he would stumble often in some of the darkest and closest alleys on door-lintels surmounted with ducal coronets and crests, finely carved in stone, indicating that the buildings which they adorned had once been the residence of nobility he would observe, after ascending the flight of shelved and broken steps, remnants of fine old mahogany balustrades and handrails he would find in apartments, now perhaps the abodes of extreme poverty, richly carved mantel- pieces, and beautifully ornamented hand-modelled plaster ceil- ings, and when he began to contrast the character of the present inmates of these houses with that of their ancient occupants, and to reflect on the changes which must have attended their transition from the one to the other extreme, he would have no difficulty in believing that those ruinous dens, now the squalid abodes of want and wretchedness, might, under the magic influence of wealth, have been at once elegant, and, in the language of the Gaberlunzie, "couthie dwellings." Although by no means blind to the improvements which * These additions, and the original buildings, may be still seen in many parts of the High Street. Where the wooden fronts have been removed, the old walls and several curious old inscriptions have recently come to light. THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 107 have been effected in the condition of man by the progress of civilisation, and though not overlooking the many additions which modern inventions have made to the luxuries and ele- gancies of life, still I have so much of the old leaven about me, that, in common with the majority of my countrymen, I deeply venerate all the antique characteristics of such a town as Edin- burgh, and look with jealousy on every levelling project which threatens the destruction of any of these ancient landmarks. One old house is generally found supporting or leaning on another; and thus, when one is taken down, the adjoining tenements are almost sure to follow. Hence, I always look on the removal of the first old house in a street with a similar feeling to The wifie wha sits on her ain man's knee, An 7 keeks in his face wi' her slee black ee ; Losh how the body will wauken an' stare, Gin she see in his pow the first gray hair ! Ere the leaves o' the forest hae withered or dow'd, When the fields are a' wimpling an' waving in gowd ; Losh how the farmer will shiver an' shake Gin he see at his feet the first snaw-flake ! When the Winter hath past, an' the bonnie young buds Wad fain deck in green a' the auld black wuds ; Losh how the wee things will wither an' dee, Gin the bark fa' awa frae their parent tree ! When fortune is smiling, and friendship is kind, An' your wife an' your weanies are just to your mind ; Ah ! how you feel gin death mak his first ca', An' taks e'en your youngest bit tottum awa ! When we keep close thegither, even auld age grows strang, Auld folks an' auld houses will stand twice as lang ; But ah ! gin ane totter, or ane slip awa, How the lave o' their cronies will totter an' fa' ! Yet we canna weel grieve though they a' fade away, Though aye now an' then we see marks o' decay ; On the earth we can only but stay for a wee, But in heaven there's naething can wither or dee. io8 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. The buildings in old Parliament Square, or Close as it was more generally called, presented the strongest possible contrast to the elegant and classic architecture of the edifices which now form that locality. The dead wall of the old Parliament House was partially broken up, with sundry motley patches of ornament, and surmounted with a barbarous embrasured bal- cony, terminated at the corners with turrets of a similar char- acter. The statue of King Charles graced the centre of the square. On the south was to be seen, towering to the clouds, a certain lofty tenement, in its day one of the lions of Edin- burgh, containing above a dozen storeys, all densely peopled by a respectable class of inhabitants. On the east side was the fine old house or land, which was burned down in 1824, with its piazza walk, under which was situated John's Coffee- house, once the resort of Dr Pitcairn and other wits of the day ; and farther on were situated the shops of the principal jewellers, goldsmiths, and booksellers, wherein were wont to congregate daily the great and learned of the land. To the spectator, who should turn his back to the south, and look towards the grand central point, the magnificent structure of St Giles, with its lofty imperial crown, of a dull gray colour, the whole scene was singularly romantic and impressive. The sunlight falling on the venerable and rich old Gothic windows, or playing among the upper portions of the projecting buttresses, seemed as if desirous of showing off to advantage the finer features of the ancient edifice. The under part of the structure was surrounded with little shops and houses of two and three storeys, erected against, and clinging to its walls, their plaster fronts, daubed over with party-coloured paint, and glittering with gold-lettered sign-boards ; their windows all sparkling with rich jewellery and other showy articles. Long red chimneys were seen creeping up the recesses, to the very top of the old Cathedral, while above the flat roofs of these nest-like tenements, were occasionally to be seen ropes swung across, with their loads of bright coloured kerchiefs, frills, and caps, shading or throwing reflected light on the windows of the church. So great at that time was the thoroughfare here, and so urgent the demand for places of business, that every little corner was converted into one of these booths or shops, some of which were so small, that one customer had to wait until the other came out, the place not being large enough to accommodate two ' 'he. scene. i.rtn.oitrZa.^Ttnfcnatijjn or"t}vn aaes.'ba i ik(!fyihih.a2as! fire, no* acne, njr era: The cLostLpa^d litrlt- ,'h^ps. wihjheirsprucf;3apper.cockedr 1 ,-.: hi pi. //?//;/. -7^ it were, the focal peculiarities zrul self-unportance. ofrlw times. The venerable rfj pile., tuwpruu) 7rrtih/ over all. &UL adjoining Tnali- THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 109 persons at a time. All this part of the scene exhibited a combination of two ages, both of which, alas ! are now gone for ever. The close packed little shops, with their spruce, dapper, cock-hatted occupants, typifying, as it were, the local peculiarities and self-importance of the times. The venerable old pile, towering loftily over all the adjoining buildings, look- ing like some gigantic remnant of past ages, carried the mind back to the earliest records of Edina's glory. Those little shops, and their busy owners, have all been removed. The architecture of the Cathedral has been restored to its primitive purity. The square is now surrounded with beautiful buildings, and the most perfect uniformity prevails, where formerly all was irregularity and confusion; but the scene is dull, lifeless, and entirely wanting in the cheerful ex- citement of the stirring, gossiping times of old ; and we miss the busy bustling personages who were wont to crowd and throng the Parliament Square in the sunny days " O' auld lang syne." Hoary Saint Giles, as he towers in height, Shines like a monarch enthroned in light ; His bright crown blends with the sunny sky, He gazeth aloft with gleaming eye ; He rings his bells with a merry chime, Nodding and laughing at Father Time. Proudly he towers, exulting and gay, But his old companions, where are they ? Old men and dwellings have come and gone, The place which held them is void and lone ; Still the old Saint, as in youthful prime, Noddeth and laugheth to Father Time. The old Saint looks and smiles at decay, While those he propped have all pass'd away; Jails once built for the lawless and bold, Lie with clutchers and venders of gold ; " Go to/' cries the Saint, " treasure and crime Are not fitting mates for Father Time ! " I'm the Preacher and Teacher of Peace, I stand till stormy passion shall cease ; Till men see God in the sky above, And seek no screen from His eye of love; Then shall I sink in the vast sublime I bow to Eternity, not to Time." no THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. The tradesmen and merchants who occupied the little booths surrounding the Square and Cathedral were all of the class called " bien bodies," men who lived within their incomes, and maintained perfect integrity in all their business transac- tions. Their shops and houses were low rented, speculation was unheard of, and ostentatious parade not deemed necessary. They seemed to act upon the principle recommended by Nicol Jarvie, senior, " of never putting out their hand farther than they could draw it easily back again ;" and followed the advice contained in the following old nursery rhyme : Creep awa, my bairnie, creep afore ye gang. Cock ye baith your lugs to your auld grannie's sang ; Gin ye gang as far ye will think the road lang Creep awa, my bairnie, creep afore ye gang. THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. in Creep awa, my bairnie, ye're ower young to learn To tot up and down yet, my bonnie wee bairn ; Better creepin' cannie than fa'in wi' a bang, Duntin' a' your wee brow creep afore ye gang. Ye'll creep, an' ye' 11 hotch, an' ye'll nod to your mither, Watchin' ilka step o' your wee donsy brither ; Rest ye on the floor till your wee limbs grow strang, An' ye'll be a braw chiel yet creep afore ye gang. The wee birdie fa's when it tries ower soon to flee, Folks are sure to tumble when they climb ower hie; They wha canna walk right, are sure to come to wrang \ Creep awa, my bairnie, creep afore ye gang ! While the worthy citizens in those days, however, lived in the most economical manner, they did not by any means deny themselves the necessary recreation which a town life requires to secure health. All early risers, they got early through with their work, and generally devoted a considerable portion of the day to amusement Many of them, indeed, very frequently shut their shops after three o'clock in the afternoon, leaving a laconic notice on their doors, announcing that they were "gone to the Links to play at gowff," and would be back at six o'clock. Notwithstanding this apparently easy way of con- ducting business, some of them realized fortunes ; and several of our most respectable Edinburgh firms had their origin in the Parliament Close. Some of the occupants of these booths were, or had been, civic functionaries, and were on terms of intimacy with the dignitaries of the Courts, with whom they were in the habit of conversing in the most familiar manner. Indeed, it was no uncommon sight at midday to see the gentlemen of the long robe, in company with the cock-hatted burghers, stepping over to Metcalf s or Johnnie Bowie's, to get their " twal hours ; "- even the Magistrates of the City, and the Lords on the Bench, thinking it no derogation of their dignity to step down from their high places to associate with their more humble brethren in their forenoon potations. These habits are now much changed, and the idea of tasting strong liquors in a forenoon is happily never thought of in respectable society. Then, however, not only " meridians," but "mornings," were common, even among ii2 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. the higher classes ; and the learned members of the Bench and Bar, on their way to the Parliament House, deemed it no sacri- fice of character to go into a tav.ern and swallow their glass of cold brandy, to dissipate, as they said, the fumes of the previous evening's debauch. Tastes are as much changed as" habits, and the refined palates of our modern merchants would not relish the glass of usquebaugh and small beer, which was wont to be the favourite beverage of the Edinburgh shopkeepers of the last century, We hear much of liberty and equality in our day, but in so far as the practical application of the liberal principle is con- cerned, our forefathers were certainly before us. The different classes, although as well-defined then as now, associated more with each other, a better feeling was kept up between the higher and lower orders ; and even the junior members of the community profited by the friendly and familiar intercourse which existed among all ranks and grades of society. In this way was it that the boys were allowed to play their favourite games, even among the feet of the great men, in the Parliament Square; and although they were frequently menaced, and sometimes chased by the City Guardsman, who stood sen- tinel over the statue of " King Charles," they were to be seen in the summer mornings driving away at ball against the dead wall of the Parliament House, or breaking shins with shinty knocks in the centre of the square. The Old Post-office Stairs, and Back Stairs, which led down to the Cowgate, and the President Stairs, which led down to the Royal Bank Close and Old Fishmarket, were the chief places of rendezvous for apprentice boys at their breakfast and dinner hours, and during the whole day stragglers were to be seen playing at their favourite games. Many a barber's wig-box, shoemaker's bag, or tailor's bundle, lay here for hours, while the thoughtless young rogue, to whose care it had been committed, was busily engaged in some pitch-and-toss speculation. Fathers, mothers, schoolmasters, and employers were to be seen stealing down the broad steps on tiptoes, each seizing his or her victim by the ears, wresting from him the implements of the game with which he had been playing ; and, amid his half-terrified, half- amused companions, emptying the little gambler's pockets of his equivocal gains a punishment to whirh was generally superadded a sound thrashing. THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 113 The Goldsmith's Hall, Council Chamber, and Parliament House, contained the most of the great men in town, and on all occasions of public festivity the square was the general resort of the inhabitants. On the King's birthdays, when there were bonfires and rejoicings in every part of the city, the Lords of Council and Session, the Barons of Exchequer, and Com- missaries, together with the Lord Provost, Magistrates, Dea- cons, and others of the more respectable citizens, arrayed in their robes of office, preceded by their trumpeters, macers, and city officers, decked in their curious antique dresses, and pro- tected by their faithful servants the City Guard, marched from the Council Chamber to the Hall of the Parliament House. The procession moved through the square with slow and stately steps, and marched round the statue of Charles, which was decorated with flowers by the apprentice boys in the square. After being all arranged in the great hall, the Lord Provost proposed the King's health, which was immediately pledged by the company in a bumper of wine ; the trumpets sounded, and mingling with the cheering of the assemblage, reverberated through the lofty hall ; the Town Guard stationed outside fired a volley ; the Castle guns answered in voices of thunder ; and loud and hearty were the cheers of the loyal and delighted populace. Many a merry scene was witnessed in the Parlia- ment Square on that day, and in the evening it was kept in one continued blaze with rockets, squibs, and crackers. One of the reasons, and perhaps the chief one, why I have been thus particular in describing this once favourite resort of the citizens of Edinburgh, is, that within its precincts a much loved and much respected uncle, one of the personages destined to figure in our pages, spent the greater part of his life. Those of the inhabitants of Auld Reekie who are old enough to remember the period to which I refer, will recollect a certain little shop, which was a favourite lounge of some of the most influential citizens of the day, and which was occu- pied by Walter Hepburn, jeweller, my worthy relative. Mr Hepburn was the very soul of local greatness, a fine specimen of a worthy and wealthy Edinburgh tradesman ; he had retired from business while I was a mere child, but the good which some men do is not soon forgotten ; and some of his quondam friends to whom I take this opportunity of expressing my gratitude have, from time to time, communicated to me slight H ii 4 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. touches of his life and character, which coincide with my own experience, and have enabled me to lay before my readers a tolerably faithful portrait of my good and kind uncle. The old man had begun and ended his business career in the same shop, and only left it in consequence of its being about to be taken down to make way for some process of renovating the cathedral. He could not find heart to lock his shop for the last time, and said, " That he was thankful he had as muckle as wad keep him, as he couldna think of moving to ane o' the new high-roofed an' gousty toom-looking shops, that were fitter for singing sangs in than selling jewellery." What a picture the spruce lively old man must have been in his knee-buckled breeches and cocked hat, as he closed his half-door behind him, and strutted over to the Council Chamber to discuss with its officials some important local question, perchance the splicing of the Tron Church bell-rope, or the patching of the worn-out clothing of the City Guard ! In the eyes of my aunt, his beloved sister, my uncle was the greatest statesman of his age ; and when an account was read to her from the Caledonian Mercury, of an angry discussion which had taken place at the first meeting of the Town Council after his retirement from office, " Ah !" said my worthy aunt, shrugging her shoulders, " it's easily seen our Watty wasna there ! " Perfection is not to be expected in this sublunary sphere, and there was one point in my uncle's character which used to ex- cite the suspicion and dislike of some of his neighbours. He was, and had always been, a most inveterate black-neb (Anglid, democrat); and I have heard it rumoured that he narrowly escaped being apprehended as one of the ringleaders of the conspiracy, as it was called, of the " Friends of the People." During the French war, when some of our victories were celebrated by public rejoicings and illuminations, instead of sympathizing with the general feeling, and being neighbour-like, he, by way of expressing his contempt, had stuck one very small candle in each of his upper windows, heroically braving the fury of the mob, who signified their disapprobation of his republican principles by breaking every pane of glass in his house to shivers. Notwithstanding, however, the unpopularity of my uncle's political creed, he was much esteemed and respected by all his immediate friends, and the circle of his acquaintance, which was THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 115 very large. He was a great favourite with the poor of the neighbourhood, and on Saturday mornings the pensioners who surrounded his shop-door were almost as numerous as those seen besetting the Excise Office on quarter days. He acted as treasurer and adviser to many young men, who afterwards had cause to remember the service he had done them with gratitude ; and in those days when there were no savings banks, he formed the nucleus of many a heavy purse, afterwards deposited, and still remaining, in " Sir Willie's," his favourite bank. He also most religiously attended all funerals, more especially those of the poor ; and it was his common remark, that if it were not for himself and " Jamie Duff" (a well-known idiot who used to attend all funerals), " mony a puir bodie wadna hae ane to lay their heads aneath the yird." This kindly disposition on the part of my uncle, added to his numerous other good qualities, overbalanced in the estimation of his fellow-citizens the obloquy at that time attached to persons holding such political opinions as he owned, and induced his fellow-craftsmen to elect him their deacon, presenting an unprecedented exception to the general rule in all Edinburgh electioneering matters, he being unanimously elected deacon convener of the good town, at a time when the party whose political principles he had espoused so warmly was very limited in numbers, and low in public es- timation. With the exception of his peculiar views anent government, then reckoned singular, but now much more prevalent, he was well entitled to this mark of distinction. He had evinced much energy and public spirit on every occasion wherein the welfare of the city of Edinburgh was concerned, and it was but be- coming that his fellow-citizens should, in the language of the country bailie, elevate him " to the highest pinnacle of human glory.' 7 My uncle had been one of the original members of the Edinburgh Defensive Band, or Fusileers, as they were frequently called, a volunteer corps formed by the heroic citizens at the time of the threatened invasion. He had girded on his sword, shouldered his musket, and marched down with his corps to the rendezvous at the Citadel of Leith, to oppose the landing of the celebrated Paul Jones. He complained loudly of Paul's escape, and hinted pretty plainly that the rapid flight of the sea-rover down the Frith was not so much caused by the wind said to have been raised by the intervention of the Reverend n6 THE GABERLUNZI&S WALLET. Mr Shirriff of Kirkcaldy, as by the determined and valorous spirit displayed on the occasion by the citizens of Edinburgh and the immortal Fusileer corps to which he belonged. Mr Shirriff did not coincide altogether with this opinion, although he modestly declined to accept all the honours showered on him by his kind friends. " True," he said, " the blast had come in gude stead, but he only had prayed ; the Lord had sent the wind." Several of my uncle's old companions alleged that he had been more active than zealous at that great and ever-memorable muster ; but as the matter had turned out, his prowess had not been put to the test, and he could talk as loudly as his contemporaries, of what they would have done, had not Paul so uncere- moniously given them the slip. On their anniversary meetings, too, which a number of old associates kept up, my uncle, who sung well, was always called on to sing the following song, which had been composed for them by some rhyming member of .the corps ; THE AULD FUSILEERS. THE auld Fusileers, the auld Fusileers, What corps ere could match wi' the auld Fusileers? Nae Yankie sharpshooters, nor French Halberteers, Could stand the dead shot o' the auld Fusileers. What tho' their brave deeds are but kenn'd here at hame, The greatest and best oft are joukit by fame; But the burly Paul Jones soon gae way till his fears, An' ran when he heard o' the auld Fusileers. Wi' their stieve doughty pith they keep up the Gude Toon, They heezed Freedom up and dang Tyranny doun ; An' the ophans wi' smiles and the widows wi' tears Aye blessed the kind hearts o' the auld Fusileers. But alack Time has nibbled their manhood awa, An' the louns ance sae strappin' are feckless and sma' ; Yet the last o' the corps, tho' now far gane in years, Meet here to tell tales o' the auld Fusileers. THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 117 Auld Reekie's been lang on the tyne and the wane, Yet we'll pray that her auld pith may come back again ; For her hoary auld trunk still some green blossoms bears, That may ripen to men like the auld Fusileers.. The auld Fusileers, the auld Fusileers,. We hae still a' the pluck o' the auld Fusileers ; Gin war's trumpet touts we'll gang a' volunteers,. An' our callants shall learn frae the auld Fusileers. To hear this song sung as I have heard it in a company of white-headed old men, some of whom had lived in the world nearly a century; to listen to them talking of their youthful feats, with the enthusiasm which early recollections always awaken ; to hear them casually mention some circumstance which you are aware took place at least three-quarters of a century ago, while all the intervening period between the present and past, pregnant with such great events to man, appears to them little else than a dreary void, excites strange feelings in the mind, and makes you begin to doubt how far a long protracted life is desirable. You wonder if man learns nothing after his boyish days have past ; and this feeling is heightened, when,, with a clear though tremulous voice, one of the oldest members. of the company sings a song which was a favourite in his early days. You see at once that the vigour of mind developed in the works of Burns, Scott, and we may add Hogg, has been lost to him, and that he still, as in his youth; considers Allan Ramsay Scotland's chief, if not only poet. It may be told us that man, as he advances in life, betakes himself to graver pursuits than learning songs. Alas ! alas ! I fear that most of our other attainments of any value or utility will be found to have been also acquired in our youthful years. Yet with these convictions vividly impressed on your mind,, you feel that old age must always have claims on your respect. Every white head is a holy book, whereon is written in impres- sive characters man's universal mortality ; every old house is a touching memorial of times long gone by. Yet these are the connecting links which bind us to the past, and even through such wrecks of time we hold converse with the great spirits of other ages, who being dead yet speak. Is there not here a convincing proof of the soul's immortality, when in one instant, n8 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. with one glance, the mind can travel back for centuries, and feel that thought generated in a far distant age has withstood the ravages of time, and still blooms as bright and fair as ever? Is it not good, then, to look on old age with reverence and respect? There surely is little to be admired in the man who calls his father a fool ; and he who looks with indifference on the abodes of his ancestors, however dreary, desolate, or humble they may be, is dead to the finest feelings of human nature. I have formerly stated, that my uncle had retired from business when I was a mere boy. Previous to that period, I had neither seen much of him nor of his sister, my beloved aunt. But when my affectionate widowed mother died, leaving me an orphan totally unprovided for, they took me home to live with them ; and, with the exception of the name, they were the same to me as if they had been my own parents. They themselves had also been left orphans at an early age, and had been brought up, the one in George Heriot's, the other in the Merchants' Maiden Hospital. After serving his apprenticeship as a goldsmith in the shop once occupied by George Heriot, my uncle took up house, opened a shop, and brought his sister home to live with him. They were both industrious in their habits, frugal in their living, and amiable in their dispositions. Then, as now, industry was rewarded, and they realised a sufficient competency to allow them to retire in good time to enjoy the fruits of their industry and frugality. I have been told by some of their old friends, that my aunt, who must at one time have been very good looking, if not absolutely pretty, had many tempting offers, and that my uncle had many opportu- nities of marrying to advantage, but, from the affection which they entertained for each other, they could not a moment endure the idea of separation ; and accordingly they had continued to live together. No love could have been more pure than theirs, no affection more exalted ; and the delightful import, the full meaning of the terms " brother " and " sister," was never more thoroughly appreciated than by my kind old maiden aunt and her bachelor brother. As might have been expected from such a correct business man, my uncle had all the most notable public events which had taken place during his life chronicled in his memory with the most accurate fidelity, and his authority was quoted anent THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 119 dates as confidently as an almanac. He was a great favourite in the clubs with which he was connected, and all disputes were uniformly referred to his decision. His chief enjoyments were all of the old school. He regularly spent his afternoons at the bracing and manly game of golf on Burntsfield Links, and frequently the early part of his evenings in some favourite High Street tavern, although he was always home betimes, as he took much pleasure in sitting by our own delightful kitchen fireside, chatting away with his sister about old stories, which he did with an unction that never failed to awaken correspond- ing feelings in those privileged to listen to him. My worthy uncle was also the very pink of politeness ; and when, arrayed in his cocked hat, tight single-breasted coat, long vest, large frilled breast, ruffled wrists, knee-breeches, silk hose, with silver knee and shoe buckles, he strutted forth, lightly leaning on his gold-headed cane, he was the beau ideal of a bachelor of the old school. His devotion and attention to the fair sex was also most exemplary, and few young gallants could lead off a dance, or hand a lady to a chair, with such ease and grace as my octogenarian relative. My aunt was considerably more precise in her manner than her brother. She was, moreover, sarcastic, shrewd, and clever, had a thorough contempt for modern innovations, and, in spite of the changes of fashion, adhered to the old style of dressing wore long-waisted gowns with short sleeves, and white satin shoes with high heels. Her head-dress was the envy of many a dame, whose head was plumed with an array of colours as various and brilliant as those of a pea- cock's tail, but whose gaudy array failed to attract the attention or admiration of any portion of the company when seen beside the beautifully smooth brushed hair, and the small, elegant, and towering cap, which rested like a coronet on the intelligent forehead of my maiden aunt. She was, moreover, too sensible a woman to believe herself a young maiden, and not foolish enough to be ashamed of being called an old one. Our residence, situated in one of the closes on the north side of the High Street, was an old-fashioned, snug, little self-con- tained house, surrounded by a small piece of garden-ground, containing a few fruit-trees, and a plot of green grass, which looked all the brighter for the contrast with the tall, dark, and dingy houses by which it was surrounded. There was also a prettily laid out pebbled walk, and a sweet little summer-house 120 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. in the south-east corner, in which my aunt was wont to knit stockings, and my uncle to read the newspapers in the summer afternoons, when the bright sun, as if anxious to gaze on such a benevolent, worthy, and loving couple, came sweeping round the corner of the adjoining tall houses, and lit up the grass- plot, or chequered the summer-house with his beams, until called away to some other quarter of the earth, to light up perhaps a fairer, but certainly not a happier scene. Under the peculiar management of such a woman as my aunt, it will be readily believed that the interior of the house exhibited a corresponding degree of neatness, and that every- thing was always kept in the highest order my aunt having a strong antipathy to footmarks on her well-brushed carpets, and to stains on her brightly polished mahogany furniture. The apartments were, with one exception, small, yet, as everything was kept in its proper place, we never felt any inconvenience for lack of room. I was the only disturber of the harmony of this well-regulated household ; for, as my aunt expressed it, " The thoughtless callant wadna learn to put his ain things by, but dang a'thing tapsalteerie, and keepit his duds lying hither and thither thro' a' parts o' the house ; but," continued she, in a low voice, " he'll learn mair mense by-and-by ; we canna pit an auld head on young shouthers." The visitors who from time to time dropped in upon us were of a kind not often met with now-a-days, old, warm-hearted, loquacious, busy, bustling, self-important personages. Many a merry bout and pleasant party have I seen in that old-fashioned parlour, consisting of deacons, bailies, provosts, captains of fifties, and corporals of tens, in the glorious and immortal corps in which my uncle also had distinguished himself. Then were old jokes cracked, old songs sung, old stories told, old times revived, and old men became young again. Among all these old associates of my worthy uncle, his chief crony, indeed his inseparable companion, was a personage con- siderably his senior, who generally went under the cognomen of " Laird Nairn." The development of this worthy character was altogether broader than that of my uncle. His features were more strongly marked, and his hair rivalled in whiteness the powder with which the collar of his coat was so plentifully bedaubed. His whole figure, dress, and appearance were of an antique cast, and his character was strictly in keeping with THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 121 these external indications. He was an enthusiastic local anti- quarian ; knew every old house, stair, wynd, and close, which in former times had been the scenes of remarkable events, or wherein had resided any of the Scottish nobility. He was well read in Scottish history ; and what my uncle was with regard to the dates of great local events, he was in respect to the aristocratic genealogy of Scotland. He could trace the descent and connections of every noble family in the kingdom, and was deeply versed in all their private histories. He had a good deal of the Jacobite spirit about him, and might often have been seen wandering alone through the desolate court of Holyrood in the dusk, or sauntering in the summer after- noons about the romantic heights of Salisbury Crags. Nothing he so much delighted in as in hearing chanted "The auld Stuarts back again ; " and although his voice was not quite so firm as it had once been, he sung with great vigour and energy, " The wee, wee German Lairdie." Often have I thought that my uncle, whose principles were so opposite to the Laird's in many points, would have fallen out with him, but they were both possessed of too much practical philosophy to allow politics to gain an ascendancy over their better natures ; and Nairn, who was past that age when he could be fired with political fuel, always avoided discussion, although he freely stated his opinions, leaving to my uncle all the glory of confuting them to his own entire satisfaction. Nairn's mind was of the most benevolent kind, his disposition open and generous to a fault : he never would listen to an evil report of his neighbour's fame ; and he checked all attempts at slander with a shrug of the shoulders, a fidgety look of impatience, and his favourite expression, " We cam nae here to speak ill o' our neighbours." Hallowed be his blessed spirit, glory to the memory of his name, which, like the dew falling on the young herb, or the sun upon the flower, even yet refreshes, and sheds a halo over the old scenes of his existence, calling forth from many eyes and hearts the tears of gratitude and love for the memory of 123 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. THE LAST LAIRD O' THE MINT ! AULD Willie Nairn, the last Laird o' the Mint, Had an auld-farrant pow, an 7 auld-farrant thoughts in't ; There ne'er was before sic a body in print, As auld Willie Nairn, the last Laird o' the Mint. So list and ye'll find ye hae muckle to learn, An' ye'll still be but childer to auld Willie Nairn. Auld Nanse, an auld maid, kept his house clean an' happy, For the body was tidy, though fond o' a drappy ; THE GABERLUNZI&S WALLET. 123 An' aye when the Laird charged the siller-taed cappy, That on great occasions made ca'ers aye nappy, , When the bicker gaed round, Nanny aye got a sharin' There are few siclike masters as auld Willie Nairn. He'd twa muckle tabbies, ane black an' ane white, That purr'd at his side by the fire ilka night, And gazed in the embers wi' sagelike delight, While he ne'er took a meal, but they baith gat a bite ; For baith beast an' bodie aye gat their full sairin He could ne'er feed alane, couthie auld Willie Nairn ! He had mony auld queer things, frae queer places brought He had rusty auld swords, whilk Ferrara had wrought He had axes, wi' whilk Bruce an' Wallace had fought An' auld Roman bauchles, wi' auld bawbees bought ; For aye in the Cowgate, for auld nick-nacks staring Day after day daunder'd auld sage Willie Nairn. There are gross gadding gluttons, and pimping wine-bibbers, That are fed for their scandal, and calPd pleasant fibbers ; But the only thanks Willie gae them for their labours, Were " We cam nae here to speak ill o' our neighbours." O ! truth wad be bolder, an' falsehood less darin', Gin ilk ane wad treat them like auld Willie Nairn. His snaw-flaiket locks, and his lang pouther'd cue, Commanded assent to ilk word frae his mou ; Though a leer in his ee, an' a lirk in his brow, Made ye ferlie gin he thought his ain stories true ; But he minded o' Charlie when he'd been a bairn, An' wha but Bob Chalmers could thraw Willie Nairn ! Gin ye speer'd him anent ony auld hoary house, He cock'd his head heigh, an' he set his staff crouse, Syne gazed through his specks, till his heart-springs brak loose, Then 'mid tears in saft whispers wad scarce wake a mouse, He told you some tale o't, wad mak your heart yearn To hear mair auld stories frae auld Willie Nairn. E'en wee snarling dogs gae a kind yowfrin bark, As he daunder'd doun closes baith ourie an' dark ; 124 THE GABERLUNZIE S WALLET. For he kend ilka doorstane and auld-warld mark, An' even amid darkness his love lit a spark ; For mony sad scene that wad melted cauld aim, Was relieved by the kind heart o' auld Willie Nairn. The laddies ran to him to redd ilka quarrel, An' he souther'd a' up wi' a snap or a farl : While Vice that had daur'd to stain Virtue's pure laurel, Shrunk cow'd frae the glance o' the stalwart auld carl ; Wi' the weak he was wae, wi' the strong he was stern For dear, dear was virtue to auld Willie Nairn. O ! we'll ne'er see his like again, -now he's awa ! There are hunders mair rich, there are thousands mair braw, But he gae a' his gifts, an' they whiles werena sma', Wi' a grace made them lightly on puir shouthers fa' ; An' he gae in the dark, when nae rude ee was glarin' There was deep-hidden pathos in auld Willie Nairn ! Among those who occasionally made my uncle's house their home was our friend the Gaberlunzie. They had been acquainted for some time before I came to reside with the for- mer, or was of an age to pay attention to anything else than play. About the time, however, when I began to take an interest in graver matters, and when to listen to, or read of, adventures by flood and field became a delight, the Gaberlunzie was a frequent visitor, and to me was worth all the rest ; he was so kind too, so communicative, had so much to entertain and awaken the young fancy, that every word he spoke was reli- giously believed, every story he told carefully treasured up in the memory. At the time alluded to, he was a fine, fresh, old carl, with a clear brown healthy complexion ; had an eye like a falcon, and a brow like a tower, full, broad, and ample, without a single wrinkle to denote either the presence of care or the advances of old age ; his person was tall and erect ; he wore a broad blue bonnet, and a heavy square-skirted, old fashioned coat, with broad flaps over the pockets, and adorned with huge metal buttons ; he wielded a sturdy rung, and generally came home from his travels carrying a huge wallet slung over his shoulders. Notwithstanding this never-failing accompaniment, the sign of his profession, there was nothing else about him that THE GABERLUNZIE S WALLET. 125 would lead any one to suppose him a beggar. He did not wear the badge with which the bluegowns were wont to be ticketed ; neither was he, nor could he be, treated or looked on but with respect. His whole appearance was so commanding, and his information on every topic so various and extensive, that many of my uncle's friends, who were seldom in the habit of visiting us. came frequently when notice was given them that the Gaberlunzie was with us. He was intimately and familiarly acquainted with the most remarkable events connected with the general history of the country; and had all the knowledge of localities and dates possessed by Nairn and my uncle, with an intellect of far greater grasp than either ; hence he had the knack of blending amusing anecdote with minute and faithful description. He had a knowledge of men and manners, to which neither my relative nor the Laird could make any pretensions; while scintillations of humour and pathos gleaming through his conversation made him a most fascinating companion. He had, moreover, tra- velled over all Scotland ; had visited all the scenes of her ancient glory ; her castles, cathedrals, and palaces ; had scaled her highest mountains, explored her wildest glens, and traced the source of her most majestic rivers; had made pilgrimages to all the more celebrated portions of her classic ground ; had collected many ancient and curious legends ; was deeply versed in all the mysteries of the supernatural world, and knew all the peculiarities of its inhabitants from a giant to a fairy. What rendered the Gaberlunzie more endearing and interesting to me than all his other acquirements, was his warm poetic tempera- ment, and his intense admiration of the earlier Scottish poets. He had all Blind Harry at his tongue's end, and was familiar with Lindsay, Dunbar, and other fathers of Scottish song. His own rhyming propensities, and the genial fire of poesy in which all his feelings were wrapped, imparted their influence to all around him, and made him especially dear to me, whom he had inspired with a share, however humble, of his poetic tempera- ment ; and when in a walk over Braid Hills one day, he knelt down, and thus apostrophized a beautiful Scotch thistle, which grew on the face of the hill, I bent my young knees beside him, and joined him, sympathetically at least, in this outpouring of a fervent and patriotic spirit. 126 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. ODE TO A THISTLE. OUGH, sturdy, beardy, fire-crown'd king, Thou jaggy, kittly, gleg wee thing, Wha dares to brave the piercing sting O' Scotia's thistle, Soon scamper aff, hap, stap, an' fling, Wi' couring fustle. 'Midst scenes o' war, in days o' yore, When the grund swat wi' life's red gore, And Scotia's land, frae shore to shore Groan'd sair wi' waes, Thy form dim seen, 'midst battle's roai, Aft scared her faes. When Wallace, sturdy patriot wight, His trusty broads word glancing bright Gar'd Southron reivers scour like fright Frae Scotland's braes, Thou snelly shot thy horns o' might. An' brogg'd their taes. When Bruce at Bannockburn's red field Made Edward's doughty army yield, An' Southrons down in thousands reel'd, Stark, stiff, an' dour, The vera weans did thistles wield, An fought like stour. Since then no foe hath dared to tread Upon thy guarded, crimson head, But proudly from thy mountain bed Thy head thou rear'st, By flowing springs of freedom fed, No blast thou fear'st. THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 127 Thy native land is free as air, Her sons are bold, her daughters fair, Bright soul'd, warm-hearted, fond to share The social smile ; Pure love, true friendship, glorious pair, Adorn the soil. Rear high thy head, thou symbol dear, Sae meek in peace, sae bauld in weir, Mine ee dimm'd wi j a full proud tear, I bow before thee, An' while life's pulse beats warm, I swear Still to adore thee ! It may readily be conceived how, under such tutorage, and in such company, I was early imbued with a deep veneration for everything connected or associated with the olden times, and should have become, in my anxiety to preserve old build- ings, old habits, old customs, and old feelings, a sort of senti- mental conservative. Nairn, the Gaberlunzie, and my uncle walked together daily; talked of their old feats, fought over their old battles, told their old stories, and lived half a century back in a world conjured up by their old associations. There could not, in truth, have been a finer group of characters, all contrasting, yet finely harmonizing, with each other, than the dapper figure of my uncle, the older and heavier Nairn, and the Gaberlunzie with his firm step, his healthy countenance, and stately bearing. When they had reached and taken pos- session of one of the seats in the green and sequestered Meadow Walk, and when in earnest conversation their heads were all inclined toward each other, they presented as fine a group of octogenarian characters as could well be conceived. Busy- bodies were wont to shrug up their shoulders, and express their astonishment at seeing Nairn and my uncle, both of whom were known to be a little pompous in their way, associ- ating so intimately with one in the Gaberlunzie's station in life, but were always put to silence and shame by these two worthy old gentlemen, who very significantly and quaintly stated, that it was not the coat nor the wallet, but the man, who was their companion. Although my honoured uncle, and his worthy friend Nairn, 128 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. did not choose to give their reasons for entertaining a man in the Gaberlunzie's condition of life with so much respect, yet I feel it as an obligation on me to let my readers into the secret cause of that intimacy ; and as one good turn deserves another, I trust they will pardon the irregularity of the narrative, and extend their indulgence to the narrator, while I carry them back to the time when my uncle had his shop in the Parliament Square, and attempt to give a description of the first interview of the Gaberlunzie with his friends William Nairn and Walter Hepburn. But as this is an event which may help my novel- loving friends to solve some of the apparent mystery which hangs over a considerable portion of the preceding story, and is pregnant with some importance to more than one of the parties therewith connected, I reserve it for another chapter. THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 129 CHAPTER V. Whaur gat ye that ring, ye carl sae bauld ? Whaur gat ye that ring o' gowd : That ring maun hae graced a hand lang cauld, Whaur can ye hae had it stowed ? A fine wee thing is an auld gowd ring To mak sic a wark about ; Ye maunna think though 'mang gowd ye clink, Ye hae hammer'd the quarry out. Old Ballad. IT was nearly twenty years previous to the date of our visit to Kelpie Cleugh, when, as my uncle, who was at that time in the heyday of his popularity, and in the full blaze of his local glory, sat on a fine summer forenoon in his little shop, working away at some curious antique piece of jewellery he was repair- ing, there came to the shop window a hale-looking country man, carrying a huge wallet, and dressed in a blue coat and corduroy unmentionables; his sturdy legs encased in a pair of those homely-looking but comfortable stockings, known in Scotland by the name of rig-and-fur. The sturdy carl, after carefully scanning the jewellery that lay in the window, pushed up the little half-door of the shop, entered, and presenting a large massive gold ring, asked my uncle if he could repair it. "Repair that, man?" said my uncle; "we can repair any- thing here but broken reputations, an' they are no easily southered ; but ye hae sic an honest looking face, and seem to be made o 7 sic genuine stuff a'thegither, that it wadna be ill, I daresay, to mend you, gin ye were out o' order. But what's this on't ! " he exclaimed in a tone of great surprise, after clapping his working glass to his eye, and looking earnestly through it at a family crest which was cut upon the ring, " How cam ye by this, gudeman ? This is the crest o' the chief o' my ain name, the Hepburns o' Keith, an' it's mony a lang year since onybody was entitled to wear it." I 130 THE GABERLUNZIE S WALLET. " Dinna ye be feared," said the carl, who was no other than our friend the Gaberlunzie, " I cam by the ring in nae wrang way \ and gin I'm no mista'en, it was ance worn on a hand o' whase stoop an' stay you an' yours hae been the better." " What ! " exclaimed my uncle, taking first another long look at the ring, and then looking hard at the Gaberlunzie ; " ye dinna mean to say that ring belanged to him wha fell in the Forty-five?" "To nae ither," replied the Gaberlunzie; "and a mair patriotic gentleman ne'er drew sword in defence o' his country. When puir auld Scotland's back was at the wa', he fought for her wi' a gallantry that weel merited a better fate, sharing in the noble spirit that brought the brave Highlanders from their mountain fastnesses to make, alas ! a vain attempt to regain our national independence, and restore an injured Prince to the throne o' his ancestors." "Although," replied my uncle, " I am o' a different opinion regarding the consequences that wad hae followed, had the party with which he was connected at that time gained the ascendency, still there can only be ae opinion as to the motives which induced him to tak the part he did ; an' every one must respect him for the wish he expressed, and the efforts he made, to free his country frae the humiliating effects o' the Union, and to restore a Scottish gentleman to his proper rank an' station in society. Although branded wi' the name o' Jacobite, he had as loyal a heart as e'er beat beneath a Scottish plaid." u I am proud to hear you speak sae highly o' him," said the Gaberlunzie. " Highly ! I canna talk highly eneugh o' him," replied the grateful jeweller; "but for him and his family I could ne'er hae been what I am this day. My twin sister an' myseP were brought up on the presentations to twa o' our best institutions, which they purchased and bequeathed for the upbringing and education o' puir orphans bearing their ain name, an' through them we thus gat the best o' schoolin' and keepin', when we hadna a relative left wha could gie us a bite to put in ourmou. Proud wad I be should Providence e'er pit it in my power to show my gratitude for the benefits my sister an' I received frae that excellent and benevolent family." " I'm delighted to hear ye say sae," said the Gaberlunzie ; "mony a ane has received as muckle an' mair through them, wha THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 131 now think shame to acknowledge the obligation ; and unless ye had haen a heart worthy the name ye bear, sic a warm and kind return could scarcely have been expected. Folks that are brought up on charity often in after years exercise that virtue least, and seem anxious to impose the belief that they hae been brought up in the lap o' wealth." "Awa wi' your high-headed, cauld-hearted wretches, wha think shame to own their humble origin, an' refuse to acknow- ledge the hand that helped an' the arm that succoured them ! they whase pride get the better o' their judgment sae far that they canna see the merit they themsel's hae in scrambling up the hill frae a low foundation ! Awa wi' sic fools an' knaves ! Just let ye me see how I can mak ony return to that respected family, and see gin it be nae done. Od, I could gang through fire an' water to serve them ; but I suspect they are a' gane. I ne'er could find ony speering o' them, despite o' a' my anxious inquiries." " The king may come in the cadger's gate some day," re- joined the Gaberlunzie; "and gin we cast our bread on the waters, it is written that in many days hence we shall find it. The descendants o' that house are still alive, and happy am I to be the bearer o' sic gude news to sae true a friend." u How or whaur hae they been silent sae lang?" eagerly inquired my uncle. " There's a time for a' thing," replied the Gaberlunzie. " There's a time for silence and a time for speaking ; an' some- thing has lately occurred which renders it necessary for them to bespeak a' the friendly help they can find ; so on their parts I chap ye at your word, in their name accept your friendly offer ; and gin ye can spare me half-an-hour, I shall be glad to let ye ken a' about them, and leave it wi' yourself to discover how ye can be o' use to them." " Hoolie, hoolie, a wee !" exclaimed my uncle, "this is ower serious a business to crack ower dry-mou'ed. Stay till I lock this precious ring (whilk I am proud to hae the honour o' haeing in my possession) up in my cabinet. Wow, but ye are queer chields, you Gaberlunzies ; ye pick up strange ferlies now an' then ; neither gossip nor gowd escapes ye. Now, we'll put this in here," he said, taking out the smallest inner drawer of his tortoiseshell lined cabinet, "an' T shall let ye see a job o't that wadna do ony discredit to Jingling Geordie himselV I 3 2 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. " I hae nae fear o' that, or ye wadna hae gotten the job," said the Gaberlunzie. "A jeweller like you, wha has your name on the plate o 1 half the nobility in the country, is just as great a man in your day as George Heriot was in his, although ye hae nae sovereign staying at Holyrood now, like King James, to come up an' gossip wi' ye, an* borrow siller, and so forth. Scotland now-a-days canna afford to mak mony tradesmen as rich as Jingling Geordie." " Aye, he had the time o't," said my uncle, highly flattered by the com- pliment paid to his professional skill; " but, in the meantime, wi' your leave, we'll drap that subject, and ye'll aiblins step ower wi' me a wee to Johnnie Bowie's, whaur we can get a quiet corner to crack in." Before my uncle could leave the shop to enjoy a tete- a-tete which he looked forward to with so much relish, there was another party to consult. This was no less a personage than my worthy aunt, without whose permission, asked and obtained, he never left his business even for an instant. At that time their dwelling-house consisted of the small apartments over the shop, with which they communicated by a little old-fashioned wooden stair, almost perpendicular, but with which habit had made the inmates so familiar, that they could run up and down like cats. Upon that forenoon my aunt, as was her wont, sat upstairs at her little favourite window which looked into the square, arrayed in her neat frilled cap, and bending with earnest purpose and absorbing interest over some fine cambric which she was busily engaged converting into hand-ruffles for her THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 133 beloved brother. This had been her usual seat in the fore- noons for many years ; and some octogenarians of the legal profession may perhaps remember with what a pleasant smile she would open the window when called up to pay them back their compliments in their own coin, inquire after their families, drop a courtesy, shut the casement, and resume her labours. On the present occasion she was interrupted in her task, and summoned from her favourite forenoon seat, by my uncle, who, having taken down his cocked hat from the peg on which it hung, put it on his head with a due regard to effect, and having taken his gold-headed tasselled staff in his hand, called up to his sister " Matty, will ye come down a wee, hinnie, and keep the shop till I come back ? I am gaun out wi' this friend o' mine upon some particular business." " Hoot awa, Watty," said my aunt, in a tone of jocular sarcasm, as she peeped down, leaning over the railing of the little staircase ; "ye hae aye friends to meet wi', an' particular business to do, at this time o' day outby ; can ye no just say at ance that you are gaun to get your twall hours?" " Atweel, Matty, my tittie, ye're no a'thegither right e'now, although it maim be confessed ye're seldom a'thegither wrang. I'll no promise but we may hae a weetin ; we canna tak up the folks' house for naething ; but we hae something to talk about that ye'll be blythe to hear anent. This honest carl brings me news o' them we hae been sae often and anxiously inquiring after our kind patrons, the Hepburns o' Keith." " What o' them, what o' them ! " exclaimed my aunt, much excited ; " are there still some o' them to the fore ? Whaur's Laird Nairn ? He, I trow, wad loup out o' his skin gin he kenned sic a disclosure was gaun on. He'll be here in a wee, it's just about his time ; and I'm sae anxious to hear about them my- sel', ye might just step up the stair and let's hear a' about it. We'll let the laddie till his dinner ; I'll put the bell on the halt door, and watch the shop frae the tap window; naebody shall disturb ye ; and ye'll get your twall hours here as comfortably as at Johnnie Bowie's. I ferlie what way you men folk are aye sae fond o' the public-house ; the whisky maun surely taste sweeter there because it's dearer. What we get cheaply we prize lightly." " We dinna value either you or your bottle lightly, my ae 134 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. sister, as ye shall find in the afternoon when we come back ; but ye ken weel that wa's hae lugs. I like aye to be cautious ; and gin Laird Nairn were comin in, and hearing suddenly o* the affair, wi' that free outspoken nature common to his rela- tives, and for whilk they hae paid sae dearly, he wad be in sic a flurry, and his lang tongue wad yelp sae loudly, that we might as weel get the town-crier and gaur him tingle his bell in the middle o' the square at ance ; then we wad hae lawyers sur- rounding us like midges, ilka ane greedier for a bite than anither; besides a' this, ye ken the Laird wad hae an adjourn- ment and a sederunt that wad last the feck o' the day, and ye wadna see us back till night ; sae ye'll get it sooner frae me at second-hand, when we come in at twa o'clock to our dinner. See that the lassie disna let the cockie-leekie burn." " She kens her wark better than to do ony sic thing," said my aunt, " I tak some credit to mysel' for learning her how to cook ; but the young things are a' sae glaikit now-a-days, that it's no easy learning them ony thing ; dress, dress is a' their care; and there's little wonder, for the silks are sae cheap that a quean wha can scantly afford to gie her mother a pickle tea, or her father a pickle snuff at term time, maun hae a silk gown to catch the ee o' some bit joe as witless as hersel'. It was otherwise in my young days : servant lassies and trades- men's wives wore linsey-woolsey ; silk gowns were only to be seen on ladies o' rank an' quality." " Atweel ye're as muckle to blame as her," said my uncle. " Gin it hadna been for you the creature wadna hae been sae pridefu' n Gin a lassie get even a cast-aff dress o' her mistress's to wear, it's no to be expected she'll be content wi' onything less fine afterwards ; they wha set their hearts on a silk gown are sure to get the sleeve o't, and I like to see the bit lassie tidy and mensfu' like ; but we're putting aff time claiverin here, sae pap ye down and look after the shop. If Nairn comes in, invite him to pat-luck at twa, and we'll be back afore that time, an' gie ye a' the story." " Aweel, mind your time," said my aunt, as she descended the stair. " See ye dinna be behind twa o'clock ; hae mercy on my female curiosity that ye hae waukened up sae." Away now went the two worthies to honest Johnnie Dowie's tavern, which being then in all its glory, and an excellent specimen of the houses of entertainment in the last century, is worthy of a somewhat detailed description. THE GABERLUNZIE'S WALLET. 135 Nothing 'so much astonishes an explorer of the steep old lanes and alleys in Edinburgh as the very small quantity of daylight which our forefathers could manage to see with. In the darker closes, where you have to stretch your neck ere you get a glimpse of the blue speck of sky that gleams like a top- light far overhead, the windows are all of a small size, and the frames of great thickness and strength. Even this peculiarity, however, I have heard praised by some of my ancient friends, who declare that they "ne'er required the aid of spectacles, until the pride o' their bairns had forced them to flit to big, toom, cauld houses, a' windows thegither, an' wi' gas lamps in them like suns, that had fairly blinded them wi' light; ay, and say they, what wi' the lang straight streets, and the muckle windows, the young folk will soon be a' blind and broken windit thegither." But to return from this digression. The tavern which was kept by Johnnie Dowie was situated in Libberton's Wynd, one of the alleys which led from the High Street to the Cowgate. The apartments were all contracted, low-roofed, and dark, particularly those on the ground floor, which were much in request, and most generally frequented. All these little rooms required the aid of lamps or candlelight, even in the brightest summer days ; and perhaps this was one of their chief recommendations to the " twall hours " fre- quenters, who had a strong antipathy to the idea of drinking in daylight. They seemed to cheat themselves into the belief that they were able to convert day into night, and that they were only enjoying themselves during the hours generally de- voted to merriment and sociality. This, let me mention, too, by the way, was the house in which Burns first lodged when he came to Edinburgh ; and among the small apartments just alluded to, was one generally called by the appropriate name of " Burns' Coffin," in which it is said the immortal bard had composed his celebrated address to "Edina, Scotia's darling seat." Although the smallest and darkest room in the house, it was much in request ; and although capable of containing only two persons at a time, was seldom unoccupied. Many an empty headed and ambitious imitator here hammered, twisted, and racked his little brain until he wrung from it a couplet, which 136 THE GABERLUNZI&S WALLET. perchance was transferred with a pencil to the walls, and after- wards recited to his friends. Moreover, such is the power of genius, and such the homage paid by his countrymen to every- thing associated with the name of Burns, that this little room was looked upon with veneration as a sanctuary, wherein the bard of Nature had spent many a lonely hour communing with his own soul, and seeking refuge from the noisy and reckless crowds of worshippers, whose well meant, but in- judicious hospitality, originated habits which ultimately ruined the man whom they loved, the poet whom they almost worshipped. Johnnie Dowie, the landlord of this much-frequented tavern, was a character in his way ; he always shut his door at high twelve, and was to be seen at early morn, arrayed in his Kilmarnock nightcap and white apron, busily employed, along with some barefooted, darkfaced girls, setting the house to rights, and inspecting every corner with the most scrupulous regard to cleanliness and comfort. Before his " twall hour " customers made their appearance, Johnnie had been to market, and was now prepared to receive his well-known visitors, decked out in full dress for the day, including, of course, the cocked hat and knee breeches. He had ready- made compliments suited to all the various tastes and qualities of his customers he laughed with the merry, joked with the joker, and twitted the satirist with his own wit. All this he was suffered to do with impunity ; for, along with a ground- work of good sense, shrewd humour, and a kindly disposition, his money-making habits had secured for him what was of more consequence in the eyes of the world a comfortable independency. Such was the landlord, and such the house, that now received my uncle and the Gaberlunzie; and my uncle's astonishment may better be conceived than described, when honest Johnnie ushered them into a small apartment, with "Come awa, gentlemen, Laird Nairn has been waiting and wearying on you this half hour;" and there, sure enough, sat the Laird at his wonted hour, in his usual seat, with his accustomed beverage, or what he called his "fuzzle," before him. " Come away," said he with one of his most knowing looks ; "did not I tell you," he added, addressing the Gaberlunzie, THE GABERLUNZIE S WALLET. 137 " you would have half an hour's battle before you could get him dragged forth from his gold smithy?" " What !" exclaimed my uncle, "are you twa acquainted; what for did ye no tell me this before ? " looking to the Gaberlunzie, with an expression of face as if he half thought he had been overreached. "I'm sure you are not angry to find it so," said Nairn, " although, indeed, our acquaintance is but of short standing. It was to be expected that he should come to me first, when he had any news to communicate anent my respected relatives, who, I am delighted to learn, are still in existence, although I was altogether ignorant of the fact till informed of it by our friend here. That he is not imposing on us, nor beguiling us with false hopes, I feel assured by his honest look ; and that he is now acting under due authority, the very valuable family ring, of which I have often heard my father speak, wondering where it had gone to, is sufficient evidence. He has, it appears, a communication of some importance to make regarding the family to whom it belongs, and knowing your esteem and re- spect for them, and having the utmost confidence in your dis- cretion, I desired him to wait on you and prepare you in some measure for the very pleasing intelligence which he assures me he has to make known. Moreover," continued he, with a leer, u knowing that you were sure to be here at this time of day, whatever came in the way, I popped in to secure a quiet cor- ner : and now, goodman," said he, addressing the Gaberlunzie, " perhaps you will be kind enough to wet your lips with this genuine Ferintosh, in which I beg to pledge you, and thereafter commence your narrative, which to me must certainly be full of interest." Accordingly, the Gaberlunzie, in a clear and steady tone of voice, and in a more studied style of language than he had hitherto used, rivetted the attention of his hearers by the following story : " It is not at all necessary," he said, " seeing how nearly and intimately both of you are connected with the Hepburns of Keith, that I should enlarge on the gallant character of the patriot of that name, the first lowland gentleman of family and property who gave Charles a welcome to the home of his an- cestors. It was a gallant, a brave deed, and one which excited the admiration of all parties, Jacobite and loyalist, when, upon that Prince arriving at the Palace of Holyrood, James Hepburn 138 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. stepped from the crowd, drew his sword, held it aloft, and walking through the corridor before Charles, marshalled him to the large hall which had of yore been enriched and adorned by a long and illustrious line of Stuarts. This course he resolved on, not because he was a blind devotee of the indefeasible rights of kings, but because of the injurious effects of the Union which, he said, had ruined his country, and had made a Scotch gentleman of small fortune nobody an indignity which he vowed he would die a thousand deaths rather than endure. Acting on this re- solution, he had, when a very young man, borne arms in behalf of the Pretender, as he was called, in the rebellion of 1715, and finally laid down his life on the field of Culloden. He was well known and much respected by men of all parties, and his death was very generally and deeply lamented. The estate of Keith was confiscated, and the presentations which the family had purchased in the hospitals at Edinburgh, for the education and maintenance of poor children bearing their family name, were assigned over to the patronage of the loyal magistrates of the city by the Government of the day. You are aware, Mr Hep- burn," continued the Gaberlunzie, " how faithfully that body have discharged the trust reposed in them, giving always the preference to the most needy of the name, as the histories of yourself and your sister abundantly testify. The nearest known relative of Mr Hepburn, at the time of his death, was his ne- phew, your father, Mr Nairn, a man who is said to have inherited his uncle's spirit, and who bequeathed to you a glorious patri- mony of patriotism, of which I am proud to see you yet pos- sessed. Hepburn, however, left behind him a relative still more dear to him in the person of an infant daughter, the offspring of a marriage contracted a few years previous to the rebellion. Both father and mother were of the Roman Catholic persuasion, and their marriage had been for some reason or other privately solemnized in the Roman Catholic chapel, Blackfriars' Wynd, which was afterwards burned and sacked in 1779. The mother died giving birth to her first child, and the marriage never had become generally known, its concealment probably being a con- sequence of the odium at that time attached to Roman Catholic tenets. When Hepburn went forth on his ill-fated mission, he left his infant daughter in charge of a tried friend, who had been witness to his union ; a man who, although a warm Protestant, was a zealous and kind friend, an old companion, and a sincere THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 139 admirer, and one who had done all he could to dissuade the high-minded gentleman from embarking in the luckless enter- prise in which he lost his life. " After the battle of Culloden this friend carried the child, thus thrown on his care, to the west country, where he pos- sessed a small estate, and there brought her up along with his own son, adopting her as his daughter, and carefully concealing her relationship with Hepburn of Keith. At that time there was little prospect that the Government would ever restore to the descendants of the banished rebels, as they were igno- miniously styled, the confiscated estates of their fathers, and he wisely judged that it was better to withhold information which could only excite hopes that would in all probability never be realised. " As might have been anticipated from so close an intimacy, there sprung up between the children an attachment, which strengthened as they advanced in years, and it was with a glad heart and a cheerful eye that the old man saw them united under his own roof by the sacred ties of marriage. By this event he knew he had secured the happiness and comfort of one who was as dear to him as if she had been his own daughter. The object on which his heart had been set was accomplished, and he indulged in the most delightful reflections and anticipations. Often as he sat and silently gazed on the smiling faces of his children, a tear would gather in his eye, and a sigh steal from his bosom, as the half-suppressed hope arose that his old friend and companion might perhaps be permitted to look down from heaven on the happy scene. This dream of felicity, however, was of short duration. The young and amiable wife, who had always been of a delicate constitution, died shortly after giving birth to twin boys a dispensation which fell so heavily on her afflicted husband, that he shortly afterwards sunk into a pre- mature grave. Thus the old man had a second time two orphans committed to his charge, and, as if gifted with new strength for the additional demand made upon him for exertion, he superintended, notwithstanding his age, and the calamities he had met with, the upbringing and education of his grand- children with a care and attention worthy of his best years. " Himself a rigid Presbyterian, and a highly respected elder of the kirk, he brought them up in a way well calculated to secure both their temporal and spiritual welfare; and as he could i4o THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. not from his comparatively small means hold out to them any prospect of a fortune, he gave them a good practical education, and taught them at a very early period the value of diligent and industrious habits. Hence, both boys, even when very young, were to be seen assisting their grandfather in his rural labours, and few better cultivated and better managed farms than his were to be seen anywhere. There was, however, a great difference in the dispositions of the twins, and although they were both general favourites, they were loved for very different qualities. The one boy was of a restless, roving, unsettled disposition, and had from his earliest years shown a love of wandering, which caused much anxiety on his behalf. On one occasion, when a mere child, he had been missing a whole day and night, making his appearanae on the following morning ladened with a burden of wild berries, his chubby hands besmeared with their ruby colour, and his face stained as if with blood. His grandfather often afterwards related how his terror had been dispelled, and his anger disarmed, when the little fellow held up his capful of berries, and said he had been at Tintock gathering them for his brother. " The other boy, on the contrary, was a quiet, sedate youth, attached to his home, his school, his books, and never absent from the fireside at night, conning his lesson for the following day. Yet his wandering and wayward brother, who was fonder of gossiping with the old wives in the village than reading his book, was never much behind with the tasks he got to learn. The latter not unfrequently absented himself from school ; and although his grandfather often threatened to chastise him for his truant tricks, expressing at the same time fears for his safety, such threats were never executed ; for when the young- ster did return, he always entered the house with a bound, flung himself on the old man's neck, and looked up in his face with such an arch and rosy smile as at once dispelled his resentment. On these occasions the kind old man, instead of punishing the wayward boy, would take him between his knees, and gently stroking his fair hair, give utterance at once to his grief and his joy, in some such exclamation as, 'Oh, laddie, laddie, what has come ower ye P Often, indeed, the little truant would be found by some of the ploughmen or carriers, snugly ensconced in some gipsy encampment by the roadside ; and it was a pretty general opinion that he would some time or other THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 14* become one of the wandering fraternity himself. With alt these drawbacks, however, he was a general favourite, and, like all prodigal sons, from the prodigal son in Scripture down- wards, he was the apple of the old man's eye. " Both boys grew up, and had attained the age of fifteen years, when their good, kind, old grandfather died, leaving his small estate equally divided between them. He also selected a tried friend to act for them until they should attain their majority; leaving, besides, in that person's charge a sealed packet, which was not to be opened until that period arrived. Years passed away, and the lads grew up, the one steady, sober, and industrious, of a slender make, and apparently of a weakly constitution ; the other bold, roving, and robust, of a firmly knit frame, and manly appearance. The one gained friends amongst those who could benefit him, the other acquired the grateful affections of the friendless and the poor. The one promised to be an excellent practical farmer, guided by rule, and governed by fixed principle; the other an impracticable changeling, full of strong impulses, moved by whim, and guided by chance. The different bent of their minds may be at once gathered from the fact, that while the one wrote essays on the management of farms and dairy produce, the other indulged in the propensity of rhyming, and delighted particularly in asso- ciating with, and describing the peculiarities of, such worthies as 142 THE GABERLUNZI&S WALLET. "WEE TAMMIE TWENTY. HERE'S Wee Tammie Twenty, the auld tinker bodie, Comes here twice a-year wi' his creels and his cuddy ; Wi' Nanny his wifie, sae gudgy an' duddy, It's hard to say whilk is the queerest auld bodie. " He works brass and copper, an' a' siclike metals, Walds broken brass pans, southers auld copper kettles ; Wi' ilka auld wifie he gossips and tattles, An' ilka young lassie he coaxes an' pettles. THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 143 " Fou stievely he clouts up auld broken-wind bellows, Or mends, wi' brass clasps, broken-ribb'd umbrellas ; An' sic sangs he can sing, an' sic stories can tell us, I trow but Wee Tammie's the king o' gude fellows. " Auld Nan's second-sighted, she sees far and clearly, Foretells ilka waddin' a towmond or nearly ; Can tell ilka lad the bit lass he lo'es dearly, An' gin the bit lassie lo'es him as sincerely. " She tells ilka auld maid she yet may recover ; She tells ilka gillflirt some slee chield will move her ; Ilka dark black-eed beauty she spaes a wild rover, An' ilka blue-eed one a true-hearted lover. " Ilka wanton young widow she spaes a brave sodger, Ilka thrifty landlady her best paying lodger, Ilka fat-leggit henwife an auld dodgin' cadger, An' ilka yillhouse wife an' auld half-pay gauger. " At night they get bouzie in Watty Macfluster's, Whaur a' the young belles sparkle round them like lustres, An' a' the young beaux gather round them in clusters, An' mony braw waddin's made up at their musters. " They'd a humph-backit laddie, they ne'er had anither, Could coax like the faither, an' spae like the mither; He'd the craft o' the tane, an' the wit o' the tither There ne'er was sic metal e'er souther'd thegither. " He could spout a' last speeches, could sing a' new ballants, Could mimic a' tongues, frae the Highlants or Lawlants, Grew grit wi' the lasses, an' great wi' the callants, An' a'body laugh'd at the wee deilie's talents. "But what did the gillie do here the last simmer But ran aff wi' Maggy, the young glaikit limmer ! Syne stole a bit pursie to deck out the kimmer, An' was sent ower the seas to the felling o' timmer. 144 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. " Nae mair the puir bodies look hearty an' cheerie, For the loss o' their callant they're dowie and eerie; They canna last lang, for their hearts are sae weary, An' their lang day o' life closes darksome and dreary. " The brothers, although very dissimilar in habits and dis- positions, were much attached to each other, and were on the borders of manhood before a single word, thought, or deed of an unfriendly nature had passed between them. Each pos- sessed the other's entire and unbounded confidence, and there was not a sentiment entertained by the one that was not unreservedly committed to the other's keeping. 'Love,' however, as the old song says, l will venture in whaur it daurna weel be seen;' and I presume, gentlemen," said the Gaber- lunzie, with a particularly sly look, " you are both aware from experience (here Nairn and my uncle looked hard at each other with a peculiar twinkle of the eye) how careful lovers generally are to conceal their attachment from all the world, more especially from their own immediate relatives ; how they seek romantic dells, shady woods, and lonely glens, where ' they tell the midnight moon their cares,.' and rather call on inanimate nature to participate in their feelings, than seek ad- vice or consolation from their nearest friend. The person most free and open in his general disposition is often the most secret and reserved in affairs of the heart. Perhaps it was attributable to these causes, that when the brothers fell in love both with the same girl, the one had not the slightest suspicion that the other was similarly affected. The goddess of their idolatry was a fine blooming country maiden, who was considered the belle of the village. Perfectly aware of her beauty, and more than sufficiently vain of it, the coquetry of this fair maiden became proverbial. Her* father, who was a farmer in comfortable circumstances, had no objections to either of the brothers for a son-in-law, although it was natural to expect that he should prefer the one he judged best qualified, by industrious and plodding business habits, to secure his daughter's happiness and independence. Both brothers having free access to their fair charmer, essayed their best to win her smiles, but gave expression to their feelings in very different ways. The one was a favourite fireside companion, who talked with the father plausibly and sagely about matters THE GABERLUNZI&S WALLET. '45 which few at his years could be expected to have taken an interest in, and who, when an opportunity occurred, could explain his sentiments very plainly and intelligibly to the daughter. The other, when he visited the house, appeared always absent and agitated, talked little and blushed deeply, although he dressed well, and assumed airs which, from his former habits, one would not have been led to expect. He apparently believed that his silent and expressive looks were understood and appreciated by the object of his love, and sent to her anonymously, although fully convinced that she knew whence they came, such rhyming epistles as the following, full of extravagant commendations of her beauty : "A LOVE WREATH. OME, my charmer, list thy praise ; Thou hast woke my slumb'ring lyre ; Thou hast kindled up my lays With sweet love's ethereal fire : All my soul's best powers inspire With thy beauty and thy love, And let virtuous fond desire Coming down from Heaven above, Flower this wreath I weave for thee, With bright buds of purity. " Sweeter thou than morning fair, Gentler than the pale moonbeam, Softer than the summer air, Purer than the silver stream ; Holy as an infant's dream, Are thy thoughts that heavenward rise ; Piercing as the lightning's gleam Is the lustre of thine eyes ; Wit and purity combine In each thought and glance of thine. 146 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. " Hark, the lark in glory floats, Piping forth his matin lay ; Thrush and linnet mingle notes, Music swells from every spray ; But if thou shouldst chance to stray 'Mong the woodlands glistening green, And one little note essay, All the feather'd choir are seen Listening mute to that sweet tone. Fondly deeming it their own. " To the sweet Forget-me-not Bends the Blue-bell on its stem, Thinking all their sweets forgot, As thou smiling passest them ; But each little fairy gem, Blooming bell, and glassy cup, Sparkles like a diadem, Drinking all thy glances up ; Brightening all the flowery lea With reflected light from thee. " Mark the blushing heather bloom, Bright on mountain, moor, and lea, Load the air with rich perfume, And with sweets the honey-bee ; Listen to the melody Of the shepherd's native strains, Now in sadness, now in glee, Swelling over Scotia's plains ; All are sweet, and dear to me, Emblems as they are of thee. t( Yes, all Nature's fairest flowers, Blooming in our moorlands wild, Bright in sunshine and in showers, Are but types of Nature's child ; Ever gentle, ever mild, Ever pure, and ever fair, Virtue, when she saw thee, smiled, This wreath twining round thy hair, Wear it maiden, for the giver, Virtue's garland blooms for ever. THE GABERLUNZI&S WALLET. 147 "While the one brother was thus engaged writing sonnets, or looking and blushing, hoping and wishing, the other wooed and won, and, with the consent and good wishes of her parents, was received as the accepted lover of their daughter. The arrangements for the wedding were soon completed, and it was agreed that the espousal was to take place on the day on which the bridegroom came of age. Not aware of the state of his brother's feelings, the happy lover communicated to him his success and joy; and of course insisted on his acting as bridesman at the bridal. Had the successful wooer been a keen observer, and marked the expression of counte- nance with which this announcement was received by his astonished relative, it is probable that, being of a remarkably cool temperament, and, moreover, imbued with the strongest regard for his brother, he would have instantly resigned to him his pretensions, and exerted himself to divert the affections of his bride in favour of her more sensitive admirer. But the look of despair with which the countenance of the sufferer was momentarily overcast, was soon displaced by a broad and placid smile ; and if the tremulous emotion which shook his frame had been discovered, it would naturally have been ascribed to some such cause as regret for their impending separation. Time passed on ; the birthday of the twin-brothers, the day on which the marriage was to be celebrated, arrived ; the whole neighbourhood was early astir that morning. The daughters of the neighbouring farmers for miles round had been invited to the wedding. The dressmakers had been busy for weeks making dresses, each more showy than another, authorities were consulted for the newest fashions, and there was much rivalry among the fair belles on the point of elegance of shape and brilliancy of colour, with a view to attract the attention of the remaining brother, who was now generally whispered to be a much better bargain, and more to be coveted than the staid and demure personage for whom the proud and affected beauty was destined. When a man is about to be married his good qualities suddenly disappear, and, along with the partner of his choice, he suffers much in the affectedly disinterested gossip of the fair part of the creation. How this comes about, the fable of the fox and the grapes may perhaps explain. It certainly must be very provoking to 148 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. a fair dame, after having arrayed herself in the newest fashions for years, after having expended a world of sparkling glances, and heaved ten thousand deep-drawn sighs at church and fair, to find the object of all her wiles suddenly appear in public with some fair girl before admired hanging on his arm, but who is now stigmatised as an awkward proud minx, while he is set down as a fellow of poor taste. On this occasion, accordingly, rumour was busy, and many whispers went about." "Hoot, ay, we ken what a wedding in the country is," interrupted my uncle \ " ye needna be describing that, but gae on wi' your story." * " Well," resumed the Gaberlunzie, " on the morning of that day, and previous to the ceremony being performed, the friend to whose charge the grandfather of the young men had confided them, and who had discharged his trust with fidelity and care, met them at breakfast, and the sealed packet, anent the contents of which much anxiety had been felt and expressed, was found to contain the following document : " c MY DEAR GRANDCHILDREN, I have purposely withheld from you the secret of your birth, until your arrival at the years of discretion, when the industrious habits which I have done my best to form in you, and which I trust you shall then have matured, will enable you to provide a livelihood for your- selves. I anticipate that the very distant hope which this communication may awaken in you of some time or other suc- ceeding to the title and estates of your forefathers, will not have the effect of inducing you to spend, in the pursuit of a shadow, that valuable time which may be more usefully em- ployed. You are the grandchildren of James Hepburn of Keith, who fell in the rebellion of 1745, and whose estates were confiscated. Of this ill-fated enterprise, and the gallant conduct of your relative, you have often heard me speak. One important incident in his life, to which you owe your connec- tion with him, was not generally known; he was privately married to a lady belonging to a family of the same political and religious persuasions with himself. Both parties were Roman Catholics, and the marriage was solemnized in the * Many of my readers are, I daresay, of the same opinion, and the reviewers call out for story, story. I must just say to them, as John Scott said to the poor folk, " Wait on." THE GABERLUNZI&S WALLET. 149 Chapel in Blackfriars' Wynd, where the necessary proofs may be found, if Government should at any time show a disposition to restore to your family their ancient possessions ; but as there is little probability that this will come to pass for many a long year, you had better, as I have done, keep this secret to your- selves. The world is always more bent on gratifying curiosity than on giving assistance in cases of doubt and perplexity. The period, however, may arrive, when the ruling powers may forget and forgive the faults of those misguided subjects who at that time took the part of their unfortunate prince ; then, but not till then, let your relationship be known, and -numerous friends will flock around you. In the meantime, my anxious desire is, that you keep it a profound secret between you, and be rather eager to secure yourselves an estate in heaven, from whence, if permitted, I shall always have much pleasure in looking down upon you with fatherly affection. Your affec- tionate grandfather, " The reading of this document, as might have been ex- pected, had an extraordinary effect on the young men. New and bright visions of glory and ambition rose up before their mind's eye, and it required all the influence of their grand- father's friend to calm their roused and troubled spirits. In a state of high excitement they stalked about the apartment, fell into each other's arms, mutually embraced, and, shedding tears, vowed religiously to obey the injunctions of their grandfather. They then separated to meet again at noon, when the marriage ceremony was to be performed. The guests arrived ; the bride, bridesmaid, bridegroom, and clergyman were present, but the bridesman did not make his appearance. Inquiries were made in every quarter concerning him, but in vain. Nor has he ever since been heard of. Various causes were assigned for his dis- appearance ; some ascribed it to disappointed love. His brother and their old friend seemed to be of opinion, that the sudden communication made to him regarding his descent and blighted prospects had operated so powerfully on his excitable brain, that, like young Norval, he had started off to try a mili- 150 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. tary life, for which he had often expressed much enthusiasm. Whether any of these causes had the effect of driving him from home and kindred remains to be seen. But the following effusion, found among his papers, may perhaps give some little explanation of the true cause : " * I go to tread the path of fame, To seek the battle's roar, To drown my soul's consuming flame, 'Mid crimson'd seas of gore ; And if a laurel deck my brow, I'll twine it round my heart ; 'Twill hide the wound that lurks below, And ease the gnawing smart. (( ' If glory's path is to be trod, And honour to be won, Upon the battle's purple sod, 'Mid war clouds rolling dun ; Then there the soul that feels despair May shout amid the throng, And bosoms dead with grief and care Awake to freedom's song.' " By this unexpected and unforeseen occurrence, the whole bridal party was suddenly dispersed, and it was not till some years after that the marriage was actually celebrated. Even after this event did take place, the loss of his twin-brother seemed to have had a withering effect on the gentle nature of the newly married husband ; he fell into gloomy and despond- ing fits, and, notwithstanding the blandishments of his affection- ate wife, and the endearing smiles of a numerous family which she bore to him, he seemed altogether unfit to take the place in society which he had once promised to fill. His father-in- law remonstrated with him in vain. His gloom became more deep and settled , and when his wife and children died of a malady at that time prevalent, leaving him with one only child, he appeared not so much affected by his loss, as charmed with the light-hearted and joyous pranks of his little daughter. His whole affections were centred in her, and he pleased himself with the idea that he could trace in her young features a re- THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 151 semblance to his long-lost brother. He tended her during the years of childhood with constant anxiety and watchfulness; and when she grew up, he sent her to a seminary to have her initiated into the usages of genteel society. His wonted vigour, however, had forsaken him ; by degrees his small estate be- came burdened, his affairs fell into confusion and disorder; and when his daughter returned home, she found her father involved in difficulties, from which no exertion could possibly relieve him. About this time I became acquainted with them, and seeing how matters stood, advised them to sell off their land, and retire to a small sheep farm, which in the course of my wanderings I had seen, and thought well adapted for them, in a district where I knew that the helplessness of the father, and the filial affection of the daughter, would find sympathising friends among its simple and kind-hearted inhabitants. Their subsequent success proved how correctly I had calculated; the amiable girl not only worked hard at the coarsest work, but, by her superior training and habits, did much to improve the females of that secluded district communicating to them freely many of the very useful accomplishments which she possessed, by which kindness she secured the voluntary and grateful services of the neighbourhood on all occasions, when their assistance could be of advantage. "It was not to be expected that such a flower should ' blush unseen' or unadmired, even in the wilderness of Carn- wath Muir. Many of the most intelligent and respectable young men of the district became suitors for the hand of the fair stranger. This love must have been sufficiently dis- interested, since it was well known that her father was ex- tremely poor, and to no soul, not even to his own daughter, had he breathed a word of the secret connected with her birth or expectations. To the honour of the simple-minded race who reside in the region alluded to, wealth is not so much courted as worth, and how, therefore, could the beauties and virtues of a being so fair fail to command universal admiration? Her devoted love and unceasing attention to her frail and fast- failing father, whom latterly she watched and tended as if he had been an infant; her uniform mildness of temper, and unceasing kindliness of heart ; her sweetness of manner, her superior accomplishments and refined beauty, formed alto- gether a creature so perfect and so attractive, that, as might 152 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. naturally have been expected, many of the neighbouring young lairds eagerly sought to win her affections. The object of their admiration and solicitude, however, made choice of one in the humble capacity of a farm-servant ; a man who was not so re- markable for his external accomplishments as for his internal worth, his frank sincerity, intelligence, and industrious habits qualities which seem to have gained him the goodwill of the father, and the love of the daughter, to whom he was shortly united. The happy couple had not been long married, till the prudence of the step became sufficiently evident. Under the management of his energetic, strong-minded, and industrious son-in-law, the old man saw his farm begin to assume a new appearance ; and to the enterprising exertions of this young farmer, who toiled hard late and early, the origin of many of those improvements which have now taken place in that bleak district may be traced. In little more than two years after his marriage, his farm was blooming like an Eden in the desert. No labour was too hard for him to encounter ; no obstacle so formidable as to resist his powerful energies. His neighbours, urged on by his example, and encouraged by his success, rapidly followed in the same course ; and in the quarter of the country to which I refer, much ancient soil has been turned over, and muirs and mosses have deen drained, which now bear excellent crops, adding to the internal resources of our country, and serving to gratify those feelings of independence which it ought to be the glory of every true Scot to foster and encourage. " Notwithstanding the unceasing attention and kindness of his beloved children, the old man, whose constitution, as for- merly mentioned, was far gone, lately died. During the later period of his life I attended him closely ; and, previous to his death, he committed to me the secret of his connection with the family of Hepburn, requesting me to seek you out, Mr Nairn, and to entreat your friendship for his daughter. He desired me also to show you this document, and the family ring, which is now in your possession, Mr Hepburn. This document, containing the declaration of his grandfather, is, you will observe, the only testimonial that exists relative to the said marriage ; for my friend, on making inquiry many years ago, had reason to believe that the papers connected with the marriage, together with many other valuable documents, had THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 153 all been destroyed at the famous No-Popery fire in 1779, when the chapel, wherein the ceremony took place, was burned to the ground." " Ah ! " said Nairn, " that was indeed a cruel and reckless business. Well do I remember the horrors of that awful night, which even yet rise before me in vivid reality. At that time government was considerably in advance of the age ; and, as religious toleration had long been given in Scotland to every sect and party, ministers thought that the penal statutes against the papists might be abrogated without giving umbrage to the nation. The result proved that they had been too sanguine in their expectations, and had given the mass of the people credit for more charity than they possessed. No sooner was the pro- posal made to introduce the detested and obnoxious measure, than the heather was on fire. All Scotland rose from one end to the other. Associations, in the formation of which the respectable classes of the community were frequently the most active, were got up in every quarter ; and the influence which was exerted, and the outcry which was raised, had the effect of compelling the ministry to withdraw a bill which was dictated by the best motives of humanity, and brought forward in the true principles of Christian philanthropy and liberality. Although the measure was deserted on meeting with this decided opposition, the populace, whose sectarian zeal and jealousy had been excited and inflamed in every possible manner, determined to resent what they looked on as little less than an attempt to set up a stepping-stone for the re-establish- ment of Popery among them. In Edinburgh particularly, the commotion was spread over all the city, and among all classes of the community ; low mutterings and loud cursings were to be heard in every corner of the streets. i No Popery down with Popery ! ' screamed the children, as they pelted each other with mud. ' No Popery down with Popery ! ' mumbled the old man, catching the ominous cry through his hearing-trumpet. ' No Popery down with Popery ! ' he murmured, as he essayed to lift the staif which fell from his palsied and feeble hand. 6 No Popery !' shouted the drunken bacchanalian, as he reeled home from his club at midnight, supported between two caddies, nearly as intoxicated and powerless as himself. ' Down with Popery ! ' yelled the inebriated cobbler, as he was borne along on the shoulders of a couple of the City Guard ; and in every direction your ears were greeted with the old rhyme of 154 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. " Prelacy and Popery Are daughter and mither ; The Pope an' the Prelate Are brither and blither. Burn them in a banefire, Hing them in a towe, Fire in the Cowgate, Faggots in the Bow ! " To painted Saints an' Images They kneel in adoration ; Grinding muckle whistle-kists Sic abomination ! Ding them a'thegither down, An 7 burn them in a lowe ; Fire in the Cowgate, Faggots in the Bow ! " I happened to be in the Council at that time, and as the magistracy dreaded, from the excited state of the public mind, that some tumultuary act of violence would take place ere the agitation altogether subsided, they used every precaution in their power to secure and protect the lives and properties of the persecuted body. The Town Guard was held in readiness to act, if necessary, at a moment's warning. Arrangements were made whereby the military in the Castle could be in- stantly brought on the scene of action. Every night the Defensive Bands met in their lodge-rooms, and were ready to sally forth, armed with firelocks, and provided with an ample supply of ball-cartridge. The slightest symptoms of riot were to be reported at the Council Chamber, as the head-quarters from which all orders were to be issued. Notwithstanding these precautions, however, the rulers of the city were out- witted. The Edinburgh mob, with that steadiness of purpose and secrecy of movement which has always characterised their most violent proceedings, had on this, as on other occasions, arranged matters so quietly, that the riot was well nigh over, and the object they had in view accomplished, before a thought could have arisen that such a thing was in contemplation. For some days the storm had apparently been lulled ; every- thing went calmly on; the public dissatisfaction seemed to THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 155 have disappeared, and no traces of the under-current which still boiled beneath could be discerned on the surface of society. Frequenters of clubs and taverns, who for some time had been rather stinted of their usual nightly indulgences, con- gratulated themselves on the fair prospect held out to them, by the quiet and orderly state of the town, to resume their con- vivial meetings ; and, for some days previous to the night on which the riot took place, all apprehension of such an occurrence had ceased : so still were the people, and so busy, that they seemed to be ashamed of their violence, and essayed to drown their shame in the sounds of their hammers. On that evening I had just completed dressing for the part of a high personage that I was to personate at the Bonnet Lairds' Club, which had been closed for some weeks, and was to be re-opened that night, when, on opening the window of my dressing-room to ascertain whether or not it was fair, the sound of the fire-bell caught my ear. I instantly hurried on my cloak and hat, and rushed into the street. The night was unusually dark; the rain was falling in torrents. As I de- scended the Mint Close the town-drum began to beat j lights were seen flickering to and fro among the high windows, which were violently shot up and down ; heads were popped out, questions were hurriedly and anxiously put, and briefly answered; the compact and measured tread of the City Guard was heard at a distance, as that veteran body moved along the High Street, and it was evident that the long-dreaded riot had at length broken out. On reaching the Cowgate I found the shops all shut. Crowds of people, full of excitement, were hurrying forward as if to one point, and in this direction I was borne by the moving mass. The smothered cry at length broke out, and loud and long was the howl that rose to the welkin from the infuriated populace. Throats at length became hoarse with bawling c Burn the Papists lay low their abominations !' Every close and wynd poured forth their hundreds, like so many tributary streams, to swell the living tide that filled the valley below. Onward, onward was I borne by the heaving and excited mob, till I reached the foot of Blackfriars' Wynd, when a dense black cloud of smoke, and the crackling and flashing of flaming embers, announced that the work of de- struction had not only begun, but had gone too far to. be arrested. Being aware that the local authorities had not 156 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. anticipated such an event, and could not consequently have made any such preparations as might effectually check the wild flame of passion that was vividly typified by the blaze which every moment became brighter and brighter, I resolved to do all that could be done to assist any poor sufferer who might require aid. Accordingly, throwing off my cloak, and exhibiting the showy dress in which I was arrayed, I pushed my way forward. The crowd, either from an involuntary terror at anything in the shape of lawful authority, or already satiated with mischief, fell back before me, and in a short time I stood alone within a few paces of the burning tenement. On looking upward, the sight which met my gaze froze my blood with horror. The whole edifice was tottering, the flames began to flash out at the eaves of the house, when suddenly a figure appeared at one of the windows shrieking for aid. In another instant a fine tall young man, who had followed and backed me through the crowd, sprang up the narrow stair, dashed through the cloud of fire to the apartment in which was the terror-stricken wretch, evidently in a state of stupor, seized him in his arms, and, opposing his own body as a barrier to ward off the flames from the unfortunate creature to whose deliverance he had come so opportunely, bore him down to the street in safety. The sight of this half-dead man, who lay almost senseless in the arms of his deliverer, raised anew the fury of the mob. He was known to be the organist of the chapel, and the ciying and yelling again arose of i Burn the whistle-grinder scaud Satan's skirlin' servant ! ' and several of the boldest of the rioters in front were about to seize him, when his deliverer, picking up a burning brand which fell at his feet, cleared a passage through the astonished crowd. I followed them, and as a fearful crash, succeeded by a brief momentary eclipse and a brilliant flame arose from behind, announcing the fall of the burning building, we found ourselves in comparative safety on the outskirts of the throng, now rapidly dispersing in all directions. I conducted the gallant youth with his burden to my house in the Mint ; but while I sought after some refresh- ments to revive the poor sufferer, I found that his deliverer had disappeared. I never saw him again ; he was a brave youth : it was a noble deed, and I have loved him for it ever since. A reward, proclaimed by the town-crier, was offered him by the magistrates, but he was either too modest or too generous to THE GABERLUNZIE S WALLET. 157 claim it. There were, indeed, several applicants for this reward, but all of them, on being questioned by me, only showed they knew nothing of the matter, and accordingly got themselves disgraced." "Ay; and are ye sure ye would have known him?" interrupted the Gaberlunzie. " You must have had sharp eyes to see a man so perfectly in a cloud of smoke, which you say almost choked you, and in such a dark night, too, as that was. Are ye sure ye did not refuse the reward to the proper person ? " " Heaven forbid ! " said Nairn. " Nay, nay, I saw his face momentarily, to be sure, but it was so full at once of humanity and determination that I never shall forget it. Then his eyes, they rivalled in brilliancy the fiery brand which he carried, striking terror into the mob as he bore along his helpless burden in triumph." "Ay," said the Gaberlunzie, "but faces differ much accord- ing to the state of animation they are in. The eye which glances brightest in war beams meekest in peace ; and it would have been a pity that one who had earned his reward so nobly, and who perchance was conscious he had done the good deed, should have been refused that reward, because he could not prove that he was the party, or because you had formed an erroneous idea of the cast of your hero's countenance." " Indeed," retorted Nairn, " if you provoke me to show you a proof of my sharp eyes, and if it were not, friend, that your dress and your age is now somewhat different, your hair white instead of black, which the time that has elapsed since that event might easily account for, I would somewhat astonish you, I presume, by declaring, that your own face bears a stronger resemblance to the features of that brave youth than any I have seen since. Indeed to-day, when you told me you had something to communicate, I said to myself, Here is the hero of No-Popery Riot night come at last to claim his reward." " Gae wa wi' your nonsense ; a very likely story, indeed," said the Gaberlunzie, resuming his broad Scotch, and his free ban- tering manner at the same time ; " but come now, and tell us what ye made o' the puir organist ? " " I kept the poor inoffensive musician snugly concealed with me till the blast blew past, and a most pleasant and cheerful companion he was. He played the violin admirably, and 158 THE GABERLUNZIE^ WALLET. withal was so innocent and good-natured, that I could scarcely prevail upon myself to part with him. Although not over com- municative on matters connected with his late office, on being pressed by me one day as to the motive which had induced him to throw himself in the face of certain destruction, and re- main so long in a place of danger, from whence he could so easily have escaped, before the fire had reached such a heig;ht, he answered, by saying, ' That, by that desperate effort, which but for the unknown stranger would have been too much for him, he had saved from the devouring element some important documents which might, at some period or other, prove advan- tageous to some of our Scottish families, who could have no such expectations.' Possibly this very marriage certificate of which you have spoken might have been amongst the number. But I have long since lost sight of the musician, and where to find him I know not. I recollect of seeing him playing the fiddle on the street one night, but thought he wished to avoid me, poor fellow ! as if ashamed of the humble condition to which he was reduced, and under that impression, and having no pressing business with him, I did not force myself on his notice." " Aweel," said the Gaberlunzie, " he will perhaps be forth- coming when he is more wanted. I have no doubt that the desiderated certificate of marriage was among the papers he referred to ; we will be on the look-out for him. Meantime, I am happy at having met with two such true friends, and proud shall I be if we live to see my good old friend's daughter re- stored to the estates of her forefathers." " And where is she ? " said Nairn ; " my heart yearns to em- brace so near a relative, and the daughter of so near a friend. 77 " Ah ! Willie, Willie, when will ye gie ower yearning to kiss the lassies ? 77 said my uncle. " Kettle versus Pot, Walter, 7 ' said Nairn; "but ye forget, you old fool ! the girl is my half-cousin ; and" " Ay, but there's nae restrictions against half-cousins marry- ing, ye ken, my auld friend ; you are no within the degrees. 77 " Keep yourself easy on that point, 77 said the Gaberlunzie, " that relative whom you may be proud to see, Mr Nairn, is now in Edinburgh with her infant daughter. Her husband, who is well worthy of her, and who married her without the slightest idea that she had any such connections or expecta- THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 159 tions, is still quite ignorant of what family she belongs to, although he is aware of some little mystery hanging over her fate, and at my solicitation he allowed her to come to town under my protection. She is now residing at the White Hart Inn, where she will be happy to see you, and where I shall be glad to conduct you both, gentlemen." u Go, bring her instantly to my house," said Nairn ; " let her make it her home as long and as often as she comes to remain in Edinburgh ; all that I have is hers. Government has lately been disposed to relax its severity towards the representatives of several of those families who were out in '15, and I have little doubt similar clemency will be extended by-and-by to the unfortu- nate victims of the more recent rebellion. A considerable time may elapse ere that period arrive, but there can be little harm in endeavouring to awaken the sympathies of our rulers in their behalf. Let us endeavour to discover, my old friend, the organist with his documents, anent which I have little doubt," continued he, addressing the Gaberlunzie, " your surmises are correct. All's well that ends well ; and it will be a pleasing conclusion to our labours if we are able to present the de- scendant of Hepburn, and the husband who married her for love, with a landed estate, and a crest that might grace the armorial bearings of any noble family. Meantime keep all secret ; let nothing transpire ; and if we do fail in our attempt, the busy world will not have cause for laughter or derision." 160 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. CHAPTER VI. Lassies, dinna sit an' pingle, Stir your shanks, an' steer the ingle ; Haste ye ! haste ye ! a' ye're able, There's the plates, rin, set the table ; Pour the tatties, redd the grate ; Whisht, the clock stricks losh we're late ; There's your faither, blae wi' hunger, Od, he'll eat us in his anger. Kitchen Rhyme. ^ THE interesting and exciting nature of the foregoing con- versation had deprived Time of his tedium, and, with an extra glass of Bowie's best, had kept the worthy trio nearly an hour behind that appointed for dinner. Accordingly, when they reached the jeweller's house they found his excellent sister out of all patience. The old lady had been a dozen times up- stairs and downstairs, now inwardly chiding their delay, now loudly lamenting the overdone and fast cooling cockieleekie, now peeping out at the door, and now resuming her seam, until, getting quite exhausted, she was once more on her way upstairs to examine the state of the dish, which she so justly prided herself in cooking to perfection, when she was arrested on the stairhead by the mingled sounds of the voices of her THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 161 expected guests, all talking loudly and laughing heartily. In another instant the bell tingling on the half-door announced that her brother and his two companions had entered the shop. "Come awa, gentlemen, come awa," said she, as she looked down upon them. " Ay, Laird, I was sure ye were wi' them that they were staying sae lang ; ye seldom think o' stirring out o' that howff until after your trysted time, and sae lang as ye hae onything to crack anent ; ye neither hae mercy on my warm curiosity nor my cauld cockieleekie. But come awa, I'm e'en blythe to see ye a' thegither," she continued, as she extended her hand to Nairn, who was rather stiff and slow at creeping up the narrow stair ; " ye maun just excuse my outspoken freedom, gudeman," she added, as she cordially shook hands with the Gaberlunzie ; " ye are indeed welcome ; had ye kenned how I hae been dreamin' and thinkin' about you and your story, ye wad hae been sooner here. Had it no been that I ne'er was within a public-house door a' my life, and that folk might be thinking I was beginning to look ower closely after my brother there sae anxious was I to hear o' them ye were talkin' o' that I believe I wad really hae joined ye in Johnnie Dowie's. But be seated ; ye maun just mak the maist o 7 what I hae to gie ye, although ye'll no be muckle made up wi't. I'm vexed too that the room is in sic trim ; we were washing this morning, and the lassie hasna gotten the house rightly redd up yet." " Ye're aye makin' excuses about the house," said her brother, " when there's little necessity for't : you women bodies are aye sae particular an' nicknackity. Gin I may judge o' my neighbours' stamacks frae the state o' my ain, we're mair needfu' than nice at present ; an' now," continued he, after saying grace, and supplying each with a plate of excellent cockieleekie, "just win too, and begin." It is needless to state that my aunt's apology for the state of the house was unnecessary ; so far as her guests could per- ceive, it was in first-rate order, while the quality of the fare she set before them was super-excellent. No one, from looking at the exterior of the lath-and-plaster- looking erection in which this snug little party were now enjoy- ing themselves, could have any idea of the tidiness and comfort which pervaded every corner of the interior. The sweet and sunny parlour in which they sat had all the appearance of L 1 62 THE GABERLUNZI&S WALLET. being my aunt's favourite apartment. It was filled with pleas- ing evidences of her careful industry and tasteful ingenuity. The ceiling was white as snow; the walls, which were lined with wooden panelling, were covered with a bright glossy green colour, they being regularly rubbed down every Monday morning, shone like a mirror; not a spot of dimness nor of dust was ever allowed to rest there for an instant ; even the summer fly dared not seek a resting-place for his tiny trotters within the precincts of that hallowed apartment. Little elegant stands of flowers filled the breasts of the windows, and diffused rich fragrance, not only through the house, but at times through the Parliament Square. White semi-transparent window curtains, arranged in the French fashion, floated around in light and graceful folds. Numerous choice specimens of needle- work, and bouquets of artificial flowers, all of my aunt's handi- work, were tastefully distributed through the room, some of the former being hung in small richly carved frames on the walls. The mantelpiece was loaded with specimens of South Sea shells, at that time very rare; and on the panel above, in the centre of a circle composed of peacock and ostrich feathers, and encased in a very rich gold frame of his own workmanship, hung a beautifully-executed miniature of my uncle in his robes of office. An old fashioned mirror lined the wall between the two windows ; a circular mahogany table, inlaid in the top with some quaint representation of a convenery meeting, stood in the centre of the room ; and a dozen of old fashioned, low seated, tall spiral-backed oaken chairs, completed the picture. On the present occasion, it was evident that, notwithstand- ing my aunt's apology for being unprepared, she had bestowed considerable pains and attention both on herself and the enter- tainment. The servant girl, respecting whose appearance she was particularly anxious, was arrayed in her newest and neatest gown ; and the tablecloth^ dazzlingly white, and fresh from the fold, had the sweet scent of the gowany grass still upon it. The table was literally laden with massive silver-plate, knives, forks, and spoons being all of this valuable material. After the cloth had been removed, and each of the guests had swallowed more than one of my aunt's blessings, as her brother used to call her little-headed, tall-stalked glasses of brandy, the old lady, unable longer to restrain her curiosity, broke in upon the conversa- tion with THE GABERLUNZIE S WALLET. 163 " Aweel, now, gudeman," addressing the Gaberlunzie, "be- fore I gang down to the shop and leave you to enjoy yourself, ye'll maybe let me hear some o' the news ye hae brought about our auld freens and patrons. I'm sure ye canna say now that my curiosity has mastered my manners." " Indeed it has not, madam," said Nairn ; " and in this in- stance, as is usual with you, you have shown an example of patience, which your sex in general would do- well to imitate. You well merit reward, and as this stranger and I have some little business which calls us away, and will detain us a short time, your brother will, I have no doubt, readily communicate to you the very agreeable news, which we have listened to with so much interest and delight, and for which we are indebted to this good man, whom I am proud to have the honour of rank- ing among my friends, although as yet I know not his name." This unexpected address almost overcame the Gaberlunzie. At first he blushed, but quickly recovering himself, said, in his most familiar manner, " I neither desire nor deserve any other name than that whilk I derive frae my profession. I haena made enough yet by beggin' to pit me aboon my callin', and nae man should e'er think shame o' his business till he is able to live without it, or his business will soon think shame o' him. I'll aiblins find a better name when I get a better way o' leevin'. In the meantime, just ca' me the Gaberlunzie ; but we maun awa to the White Hart, for I'll be sair missed by this time." " Ay, that's right," said my uncle ; " keep the dear lady in mind, and be sure ye bring her up till her four hours ; faith we shall hae a night o't. It's no ilka day we hae sic honoured guests aneath our humble roof." " Well," said Nairn, " we shall avail ourselves of your kind invitation ; we will call round by the Mint on our way to the White Hart, and I shall cause my housekeeper to prepare a room for the reception of the fair stranger to-night. I am afraid Nanny will be thinking it rather ominous when I tell her to put the state bedroom in order for the reception of a lady and child. It'll put her in a sad quandary, poor bodie !" " What ! " exclaimed my aunt, in amazement, " ye're no gaun to tak a woman an' a wean hame to your house, Laird. Think ye what the neighbours wad say ! " " Let them say what they please," replied Nairn, smiling, " I care not. You at least, madam, will take my part, and, with 164 THE GABERLUNZIE S WALLET. your countenance and assistance, they will have indeed evil tongues who dare indulge in unfounded calumnies on the sub- ject. Your brother, madam," he added, "will let you under- stand the matter. In the meantime, good-bye." There was a vague ambiguity about Nairn's way of express- ing himself on this occasion, which puzzled my aunt exceed- ingly. She stood for nearly half-a-minute motionless ; and it was not until the Laird was fairly out of sight and hearing that a new light appeared to dawn upon her benighted understand- ing. Her face assumed a quaint and curiously blended expres- sion of humour and pathos, and she held up her hands, exclaiming, " Hegh sirs, has it come to this at last ; is the auld fool married?" Of this idea, however, she was speedily dis- abused by her brother, who briefly rehearsed to her the Gaber- lunzie's story, which produced so strong an impression on her mind, and so much excited and interested her feelings, that, hurrying on her little bonnet, and throwing on her old-fashioned silk cloak, she instantly set off for the White Hart Inn, saying to her brother, " That although she ne'er had gane to a tavern seekin' him, she wadna hesitate to gang to an inn to ca' on a leddy." On reaching the White Hart Inn, she overtook the Laird and the Gaberlunzie, just as they were about to enter it, when the former, who by the way was not a little surprised to see her, gave her a humorous description of the agitated state into which he had thrown his housekeeper, by the intimation that he was about to bring a lady and child into the house. Heralded by the Gaberlunzie, my aunt and Nairn were now ushered into the presence of the heiress of the Hepburn estate, whom they found dressed in the humble garb of a muirland farmer's wife, but with a manner that might have graced any station in life. My aunt and she were soon as intimate as if they had been acquainted for a lifetime. They looked like mother and daughter. The invitation to tea was as frankly accepted as it was warmly and cordially given, and the whole party set out on their way to the Parliament Square, my aunt leading the way, and carrying in her arms the rosy little child, who was already an established favourite. Never within the precincts of the Parliament Square was there assembled a more snug and happy party than graced the tea-table in Miss Hepburn's pet parlour on that eventful even- ing. All were pleased and delighted. The appearance of the THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 165 fair young stranger with her infant charge had deeply interested all present in her favour. The recent death of her father had given to her countenance a slight tinge of melancholy, which was finely balanced by a sweet and well-regulated cheerfulness ; and she was looked on with a mixture of admiration and re- spect, such as her good friends had never before entertained for any created being. They seemed also highly honoured by the trust reposed in them. Nairn looked on his fair relative as a daughter. My aunt pressed on her acceptance many little presents, the value of which ladies alone can duly estimate. My uncle kissed the rosy cheeks and lips of the chubby little girl, danced and played a hundred antics with her, brought up from the shop a silver rattle, and hung it round her neck, to the great delight of the merry little creature. The Gaberlunzie said little, but his bright eye gleamed still brighter, and he evidently felt that the scene before him was more than a re- compense for all his exertions. After tea, my uncle's old fashioned silver punch-bowl, a choice specimen of art, which had been presented to him by the Incorporation of Goldsmiths, was filled and emptied several times by the three social companions. The whole matter was talked over; every feasible project was eagerly snatched at; many plans were suggested ; sly nods and knowing looks were exchanged ; sudden thoughts flashed like lightning through all their brains, now somewhat illuminated by the spiritual essence extracted from the festive bowl. Unfortunately, however, for the credit of Bacchus, and the merit claimed for him by his votaries, my aunt, who was never known to drink of anything stronger than her own home-brewed beer, started the only practical plan which might be said to be the result of that night's deliberations. "Ay," said she, after listening atten- tively to a number of high-sounding and inflated notions, which she knew would evaporate with that which had called them forth ; u ye may craw as crousely as ye like here, and ye may gaur yoursel's believe that when ye rin out into the street wi' your hearts on fire, ye'll set a' the warld in a flame ; but ye'll find that your everyday friends will rin frae ye to preserve themsel's, and your kindest anes throw cauld water on you. When ye need freends dinna let on, and they'll maybe help ye ; a toom pouch is a cauldrife companion, and the man wha can help himsel' has aye a' the warld to assist him : for, as the auld rhyme says r66 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. " O ! weel we may ken ye, An' weel we may see ye ; But gin we're speer'd to len' ye, Or askit to gie ye ; Come ye seekin' e'en your ain, We wad rather see ye gane. " Gin ye want to find freen's, Promises may fee them ; But gin ye want to bind freen's, Guineas ye maun gie them ; Frozen heads and hearts are thow'd By a spark o' glittering gowd. " O ! auld gray heads are bow'd, An' young knees are bended, Worshipping their god, gowd ; Shall this ne'er be mended? Poor is he wha freen' has nane, Poorer he wha's god is gain ! "Ay," said the Gaberlunzie, "but whiles the siller's sae scarce in some o' the outlandish corners o' the kintry, that ye canna find faut wi' the bodies for ettling sair to get at the sunny side o' the grit folks' faces. An auld acquaintance o' mine ance read his friends a lesson they winna soon forget. But I'll sing ye the story in a sang; we're a' in the way of being merry, and there's naething mair innocent than weel-timed daffin." OUR BRAW UNCLE. MY auld uncle Willie cam doun here frae Lunnon, An' wow but he was a braw man ; An' a' my puir cousins around him cam rinnin', Frae mony a lang mile awa, man. My uncle was rich, my uncle was proud He spak o' his gear, and he bragg'd o' his gowd ; An' whate'er he hinted, the puir bodies vow'd They wad mak it their love an' their law, man. THE GABERLUNZIE'S WALLET, 167 He stay'd wi' them a' for a week time about, Feastin', an* fuddlin', an' a', man, Till he fairly had riddled the puir bodies out, An' they thocht he was ne'er gaun awa, man. And neither he was ; he had naething to do, He had made a' their fortunes and settled them too ; Though they ne'er saw a bodle, they'd naething to say, For they thocht they wad soon hae it a', man. But when our braw uncle had stay'd here a year, I trow but he wasna a sma' man, Their tables cam down to their auld hamilt cheer, An' he gat himsel' book'd to gae 'wa, man. Yet e'er the coach started, the hale o' his kin Cam to the coach-door, maistly chokin' him in, And they press'd on him presents o' a' they could fin', An' he vow'd he had done for them a' man. And sae had he too ; lor he never cam back. My sang ! but he wasna a raw man, To feast for a year without paying a plack, An' gang wi' sic presents awa, man. An' aften he bragg'd how he cheated the greed O' his gray gruppy kinsmen be-north o' the Tweed ; An' the best o't, when auld uncle Willie was dead, He left them -just naething ava, man. 1 68 THE GABERLUNZIE' S WALLET. This song seemed to divert the subject of conversation into another channel for a time. But by-and-by it forced its way back into the old course, where again the three philosophers were completely thrown into the shade by the brilliancy of woman's wit. " Od, Laird," said my aunt, after listening to their dreamy and now somewhat hazy plans, " ye should try and secure the good graces o' the powers that be;" and then, as if the idea had suddenly occurred to her, she exclaimed, " I have it ! I have it ! the city member is to be here soon to get himsel' re-elected. Now, Laird, get ye up a dinner and ball in your auld mansion-house. Invite him along wi' your auld cronies an' their successors, in the Council. Prime your guns afore hand, and let the explosion gang off wi' some pith ; then ne'er let on but the estate is for yoursel', and I'll wad ye a groat ye'll no be lang in gettin' something done in't." " A good thought," said Nairn, " and it shall be immediately acted on ; my young relative shall grace the ball with her pre- sence, and her good friend here, the Gaberlunzie, shall accom- pany her." " Na, na," said the Gaberlunzie, u lang ere that takes place, I maun hae her hame to her ain gudeman, wha'll be wearyin' sair eneugh for her. Besides, neither of us at present set a high value on such gaiety, and gin onything o' the present story was spunkin' out, it might defeat the very end ye are getting up the ball to accomplish." " Well, there may be some truth in your remark," said Nairn ; " so Aunt Matty shall herself act as matron, and we shall make the old Mint gay once more, as it was wont to be in the days of yore.'* " Let me alane for that," said my aunt ; " I'll warrant ye there hasna been a ploy in Edinburgh for an age at whilk there were sae mony anxious to get an invitation, as there will be on this occasion. Ask ye the gentlemen, an' leave the leddies to me." u Indeed, I think it wad be wiserlike gin ye invited the men, and left the womankind to Nairn an' me," said my uncle. " Gae wa, brither, think shame." retorted the old lady ; " how could I tak upon me to invite men ? Ye might as weel set me to seek a man for mysel' ; a thing, however, after a', naewise uncommon for maidens come to my years. Invite yt THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 169 the men, and leave the lave to Nanny and me. I'll wager my lugs that our New Toun freends, wi' a' their upstart whigma- leeries o' balls and routes, shanna ding us. We'll gaur the auld Mint Close sparkle as brilliantly as Princes Street, an' gie them a spice o' what life was in my young days." "Well, madam," said Nairn, " I shall leave the whole matter in your hands. Take your own way in everything. Spare no expense. Let us have a dinner fit to set before the city member, and a ball that will please our young friends. One thing, however, I am somewhat fastidious about : see that in engaging musicians you do not get fellows who either can- not, or will not, play Scotch reels, to my ear the finest of all dancing music. I cannot for my part wag a step to your Italian fiddle-de-dees. Would to Heaven we had the poor organist ! " "Amen," ejaculated the Gaberlunzie. " His fiddling to my mind was the perfection of playing," concluded Nairn. " Ay," said my aunt. " but it's no likely he'll come in your way so soon. However, I shanna engage ane till I hae heard wi' my ain lugs what he can do ; the grass shanna grow at my heels till we hae a' thing in order. Watty, ye maun, tak care and butter the member and the Council weel, and gaur them promise something that will gie us a grup o' them. An' now that matters are nearly arranged, I shall accompany my young friend home to her residence, and you can follow us at leisure. Good-night ! " And truly at leisure they did follow, for it was cock-crow before they concluded their sederunt. On leaving the party my aunt conducted the fair stranger to Nairn's house, and consigned her over to the charge of his faithful and attached domestic, old Nanny, a personage of no small importance in her own estimation, and one who enter- tained a most exalted idea of her master's dignity. She had grown gray in his service, was careful and saving in the expendi- ture of his means, and took all the charge and trouble of house- keeping on her own shoulders. Nanny was generally dressed in a plainer manner than most bachelors' housekeepers ; she wore her gray hair arranged in little curls, while a broad and clear bordered cap, with long lappets, and a black ribbon pinned on the outside, girded her face like a bonnet. Her gowns, which were all composed of substantial homespun stuff, i yo THE GABERLUNZI&S WALLET. were somewhat emblematic of her character, both in their make and texture. No stays marred the proportions of her bust ; no whalebone shoulder-pieces pinned down her arms to her sides ; and even when dressed out on gala days she felt no difficulty in tucking up her sleeves, girding up her gown tail, and bearing a hand in her favourite occupation of redding up. Nanny had her weaknesses, however, one of which was her sometimes rather vain-gloriously and ostentatiously displaying the huge bunch of keys attached to her girdle, which was rather more frequently than was absolutely necessary seen dangling on the outside of her pocket-hole. In the house, except on great occasions, she was generally to be found in a short-gown and a wide circular apron ; for Nanny was a servant of all work as well as housekeeper, and kept the Laird's house in a very tidy and comfortable state. Her master, who was easy in circumstances, and as easy in disposition, gave himself little trouble about the outlays required in housekeeping. Whether this was the cause of, or was caused by, Nanny's carefulness, is a matter of minor importance ; but certain it is, that she ex- hibited in all her accounts the strictest regard to economy, and gave a most edifying, though somewhat lengthy, detail of all her intromissions. Each evening every little item was regularly entered, halfpenny for halfpenny. With her the baker required to keep no nickstick, the butcher no chalk-board; and were it not for wearying out the patience of some of my readers, I would certainly lay before them a few extracts from her cash- book, which might, perhaps, furnish useful hints to some of my careful friends in these days of economy and retrenchment. It was to the care of this worthy creature that the fair young stranger and her infant charge were now consigned ; and their appearance which had commanded the admiration of my dis- cerning and sagacious aunt, must have told with double effect on the homely and unsophisticated Nanny. When my aunt, who was so far communicative, informed her that the lady was a distant relative of Nairn's, Nanny muttered that "it was queer, for as lang as she had lived in her master's service, she ne'er had heard him mention that he had ae livin' relation." A few days, however, made them all thoroughly acquainted, and Matty and Nanny by turns did their best to honour their fair guest with every mark of respect and attention kindness which was on her part returned with gratitude and affection. THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 17* CHAPTER VII. The Laird maun hae his ain again, The Laird shall hae his ain again ; Let us loup an' lilt fu' fain, The Laird will hae his ain again. Jacobite Song. EXT morning, when Nairn, my uncle, and the Gaberlunzie met, their hopes were less sanguine, and they talked of their prospects in a much less confident strain than they had done under the excitement of the previous evening. Many obstacles thrust themselves in the way which they foresaw would not be easily surmounted. Britain was at that time struggling with a colonial and a continental war ; and, like all other knights-errant, was so busy redressing the grievances of others that she had no leisure to look after her own. It was therefore useless to appeal to the government at such a time. But the experienced veterans, Nairn and my uncle, knew well that every general movement must have a local beginning, and that the best time to ask a favour from a man is when you can do something for him in return. Accordingly, they resolved to have the dinner and ball on the occasion of the member's can- vass for his seat, and, until that time arrived, to keep the agitation alive in their own immediate locality. They were aware that a running stream gathers strength, and that if once the sympathies of even a small portion of the community are fairly enlisted in any cause, such a feeling is sure sooner or later to attract the attention of the legislature. The united influence of these worthy men was accordingly- exerted in spreading among their own immediate friends senti- ments of pity for the expatriated families connected with the rebellion ; and it was of great service in forwarding their pro- 172 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. ject, that a man so much respected as Nairn was one of those who had suffered for the mistaken zeal and loyalty of his an- cestors. At the various Council and canvassing dinners which pre- ceded the election of the civic dignitaries, who were not only to rule over the city but to return the member to parliament, the two friends, who were generally invited to all these parties, contrived to have the subject of the forfeited estates always in some way or other introduced and talked over. Opportunities, as if by chance, occurred for my uncle to propose Nairn's health, with which he never failed to join a wish that he might speedily be restored to the title and estate of his ancestors. This sentiment, which was generally well received, was acknow- ledged by the staid old gentleman with becoming modesty and dignity ; and, in returning thanks, he often dwelt on it with a delight and unction that suggested the idea of the old gentle- man's having renewed his youth an idea strengthened by his adding, as he frequently did, that he might yet marry, and keep up the old house and the old name. All the bantering on this poinl the veteran bore with great patience and good humour ; and as his friend, my uncle, seemed to delight in insinuating some such notion, it was shrewdly suspected by some of their fain-would-be-wise companions, that my relative was either about to follow his friend's example, or that my aunt was to be the favoured Lady Nairn. My aunt herself blew the coal with a somewhat windy bellows. At the numerous tea-parties which she attended, and where the wives of the provost and bailies generally echoed the sentiments of their husbands, Laird Nairn and his expectations afforded an excellent subject for speculation. "Will he get the estate?" was the question of the old ladies "Will he marry ? " that of the young. Both queries did my aunt answer in the affirmative, amid the suppressed titters and half-con- cealed simpers of her fair neighbours. Nods and winks were slily exchanged, and such exclamations whispered as " Hegh sirs, does she expect to be Lady Nairn?" "There's ower mony nicks in her horn, I doot." " Gin the Laird marry, he'll marry a young wife." " Gin the Laird get the estate, he'll like an heir till't." And then a blush might have been seen crim- soning the face of some young beauty, who had the secret consciousness of having exchanged sweet and kind looks with THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 173 the Laird at some bailie's ball, where he had done her the honour of dancing a reel with her. Thus did Nairn and his expectations become the topic of general conversation; and, although no one could trace the origin of the rumour, or assign any cause for its occupying so large a share of the public attention, when the great man did come to take a new seven years' lease of his parliamentary honours, he found the name of Nairn in everybody's mouth. When the grand Nairn ball, as it was called, was announced with all due formality, it came in excellent time to confirm the impression previously made ; and this impression was further strengthened, when it was generally understood that the member had graciously condescended to accept the Laird's hospitality, and was to honour with his presence the last grand ball and dinner that would in all probability ever be celebrated within the precincts of the ancient Mint of Scotland. It has formerly been stated that Nairn was a staunch Jacobite, and it may be inferred, from the circumstance of his differing so much from my uncle in polities, that he was a good, old- fashioned, high Tory. This being the case, the consequence was that the dignitaries of the city, at that time on the same side of politics, feasted him in all quarters, and made it a point to have him at every one of their festive meetings. Frequently, indeed, my uncle shared in the invitations given to his friend Nairn; but then he had an old sister, and at parties where ladies were present the brother could not be asked without the sister. Besides, he was a Whig, and rather a fierce one at times over his toddy, delighting rather much in avowing his political principles. He was thus scarcely a fit guest to be associated at a party with the city member, whom the host looked to for a place to his promising son, who was either designed for the bar or expected to "wag his pow in a poopit." Nairn, on the contrary, was not only of the same political creed with the majority of his entertainers, but was also looked upon with friendly eyes by their good dames, any of whom, who had a marriageable daughter to dispose of, would have been proud, indeed, to have secured for her the title of Lady Nairn. The idea of marrying, however, had never occurred to the honest Laird, who was in the habit of patting or kissing the cheeks of the young ladies as a father would his children ; and if a blush did arise in the face of a young beauty, he generally attributed 174 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. it to childish simplicity or maiden bashfiilness. Thus Laird Nairn, who stood in the enviable situation of a wealthy bachelor, who had no relations to partake of his wealth or share his affections, was a regular diner-out, without being either asked or expected to give parties in return. It may easily be imagined with what satisfaction the circle of Nairn's acquaintance heard of his intended party. Many threw themselves in his way, in hope of getting an invitation to a fete that promised to eclipse anything of the kind which had taken place in their day within the precincts of the ancient city. At that time the difference of female fashion and costume which had formerly distinguished the various classes of society was just beginning to be abolished, and the wives of the leading tradesmen and merchants were assuming the dress which for- merly had been worn only by ladies of quality. The expected presence of the member of parliament, too, made the fair dames more anxious to show themselves off to advantage ; and the silk mercers' shops were overwhelmed with demands for new fashions, new dresses, and new ornamental trimmings. Nay, even amid the sage debates of the Council Chamber, there was now and then introduced some chance allusion to Nairn's dinner or Nairn's ball, showing how much the worthy councillors rejoiced in the impending entertainment, which they had no doubt would be at once savoury and satisfactory. The Gaberlunzie and his fair charge left Edinburgh some weeks previously to the time appointed for the grand ball; and my aunt and Nanny set about making preparations on a great scale, for the purpose of giving it an imposing effect. Aided by my aunt's little servant, they were to be seen late and early at work, polishing, scrubbing, and turning Nairn's old mansion upside down. His immense collection of antique curiosities, which lay scattered in confusion through every room in the house, were bundled up to the attics. Carved oaken doors, and stone-lintels with quaint inscriptions, did the indefatigable Nanny, with much bodily fatigue, manage to remove. Elizabethan carvings, Roman casts, and Egyptian coins, old helmets, cuirasses, coats of mail, Ferrara swords, Highland guns, short dirks, and a thousand old marrowless warlike weapons, were thrust by the active dames into out-of-the- way corners. Old family portraits, which had stood with their faces turned to the walls for years, were scoured and hung up, THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 175 and looked smilingly down once more, as if rejoicing to be present on such a festive occasion. The Laird's huge mass of mouldy parchments and papers, which had accumulated in his sitting, parlour till they had nearly filled the room from floor 176 THE GABERLUNZI&S WALLET. to ceiling, he began to arrange himself; but soon growing weary of the task, he consigned it to the hands of his female assistants, who very unceremoniously pitched the ancient documents into a dark closet. The huge, old-fashioned kitchen^ which had not been used for a number of years, was cleaned thoroughly out ; the spacious fireplace, with a chimney large enough to turn a coach and six in, was also put in readiness for cooking. The old fashioned spit, which had been somewhat rusted and out of order, was repaired ; the walls were whitewashed ; and the old dish-covers, newly burnished, shone like silver on the white walls, where they hung in readiness for use. Norie, the celebrated ornamental painter, was engaged to decorate the rooms with the choicest specimens of his art, and performed his task admirably. So great altogether was the change pro- duced, that Nairn declared he scarcely knew his own house ; and my uncle whispered in his ear, " My sang, the women are gaun to dance a bonny jig, let wha likes pay the piper ! " As usual, the gentlemen only were invited to dinner, the arrangement being that the ladies should join them at the ball and supper. The afternoon at last arrived on which so many hearts had been set, towards which so many eyes had been strained ; and when the guests arrived and were admitted into the dining-room they seemed electrified, so much did the scene surpass their expectations. The massive oak dining-table, which had not been used since the death of the Laird's father, was spread out in all its amplitude, and tottered beneath the burden of good things with which it was laden. Bright points of light from wax-candles set in tall, deep, richly-chased silver candlesticks studded the tables like stars. The heavy oaken chairs, which were ranged closely together, were genuine antiques, having high sloping backs and low cushioned seats, covered with morocco. The room was rather low in the ceiling, but rose up in the centre to a cone, surrounded by a fine hand- modelled cornice of Grecian ornament, with large scallop shells supporting and enriching the arc corners of the rising cone. The panelled walls were tastefully decorated with arabesques, which were said to have been executed by some French artist who flourished in Edinburgh about the beginning of last cen- tury. In these arabesque panels, light graceful wreaths and bouquets of flowers were intermingled with groups of Cupids, while the one above the mantelpiece contained a landscape THE GAB'ERLUNZIES WALLET. "177 painted with great brilliancy. Nairn's arm-chair was decorated with branches of laurel, while the chair at the other end of the table, into which Aunt Matty was placed, was finely trimmed up with autumnal flowers; and when the company were all seated, with their venerable host at the foot of the table, and. my Queen Elizabeth-looking aunt at the head, there never perhaps was seen in Edinburgh at any period a gayer dinner party than that which graced the old apartment in the old Mint on this memorable occasion. The company were all select, and, although chiefly belonging to a class, were not without variety of character. The city member and Lord Provost occupied the right and left of my aunt. My uncle and the deacon convener of the trades sat on the right and left of Nairn. There were the old and new bailies of the town, the baron bailies of the barony burghs of Portsburgh and Canongate, and the deacons of the incorporated trades all great men in their own proper localities. There they all sat, their blushing honours thick upon them. One or two gray heads and grave countenances, paled with thought, gleamed with a gentle light among some whose highly-coloured faces bloomed in all the perfection of full-fed maturity. Young aspirants to* civic honours were there, their budding beauty 'rather highly tinted with bashfulness or mock modesty. Gold chains were seen dangling round almost every neck; and if there were a few who wanted them, they were evidently happy in the comfortable assurance that, at no distant date, their necks would also be graced with similar badges of distinction. It would puzzle Meg Dods herself to describe, or even to enumerate, the various dishes of which the dinner was com- posed. All my aunt's genius and knowledge in the culinary art had been put in requisition. There were such soups as some of the guests had never seen or tasted before. There were fish, flesh, and fowl, tortured and twisted into a thousand shapes, and appearing in various picturesque arrangements and attitudes. There was a sucking-pig, decked out in all the flowery trimmings of the period, and shining in his coat of polished brown, with a large golden-coloured orange in his mouth. The national dish, the haggis, occupied the centre of the table, although few of the well-fed guests (with the excep- tion of my uncle, and one or two of his old companions) seemed to think it deserving of their countenance. The wines M 178 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. were of the most choice and varied description; while the quality of the stronger liquors, particularly the brandy, was so superlative, and the article itself so much in demand, that the member must either have set down Nairn and his guests as liberal contributors to the revenue, in the shape of excise duties, or have winked at the fact of which he very possibly might have a knowledge that the Edinburgh folks at that period had ways and means of getting at these very useful foreign com- modities without paying duty at all. The great man stared and well he might : such a sight he had never seen during the whole of his canvassing experience. The local dignitaries looked at each other never on any council dinner occasion had they been so sumptuously entertained. The effect upon them seemed magical. They felt themselves elevated to the ranks of the aristocracy. No man there dared have called another by his ordinary everyday tittle of Mr. No ; their manner of saluting and pledging each other was, " Bailie, the Provost pledges you:" "Convener, the Baron solicits the honour of drinking wine with you : " " Deacon, the Member requests a bumper," &c. &c. Even my uncle fell into the general weakness, and bawled to Nairn, "Laird, the Old Con- vener pledges you." All present were well acquainted with the mysteries of the dining-table, and well qualified to enjoy the very sumptuous banquet which was set before them. At that lime dining-out constituted a very important part of the duties of the magis- tracy. They had very frequently public council dinners, and all of them occasionally gave dinners at their own houses; so that there were always the same parties, the same jokes, the same songs, and the same stories. One would have thought so frequent a -recurrence of the same thing would have satiated the worthy functionaries; but it seemed rather to have the effect of making them fonder of each other's society. A man, indeed, who is not in the habit of dining out, may feel some- what nauseated by two or three consecutive visits to the same party, and by listening to the same stale remarks and thrice- told tales. But let him repeat the experiment, say for a dozen times, and the chances are ten to one that he will also get into the practice of repeating himself, of retailing the same idea twenty times over, and, like those around him, become also a vendor of small second-hand jokes and worn-out stories. A THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 179 man, to have a healthy intellect, must spend a considerable part of his time alone, and then, when he does come into com- pany, he may say that which will be worth listening to. But I digress. After the cloth had been removed, and my aunt had left the room, the provost, who had paid her every attention, and assisted her in her carving operations with much politeness, stepped lightly into her chair, and proposed her health. " The company," he said, "were aware how much they were indebted to the good lady who had just left them for the very sumptuous banquet of which they had partaken, and would, he had no doubt, join with him in thinking, that, where there was so much to be grateful for, such gratitude should have even the preference of loyalty. And," he continued, with an arch smile, which was meant to be a prelude to one of his wittiest points, <; as that lady has shown herself so well qualified to grace the table of our excellent host, and to confer such honour on the very intelligent and respectable company here present, may we often have the pleasure of meeting her in a similar capacity. I beg leave to propose the healths of Miss Martha Hepburn and Mr William Nairn." Although some of the elder dignitaries present had daughters who were to be at the ball that night, arrayed in such style as their fond parents hoped and believed would catch the eye and win the affections of the wealthy old laird, yet the provost was to them, next to the member, the greatest man in the kingdom, and they applauded his toast to the echo. The provost, in- deed, well merited their approbation and esteem ; for he had always shown a desire to improve himself and those around him. Even when first bailie, he had, when condemning a young thief to Bridewell for a month, imitated the judges in the Justiciary Court in capital cases, by finishing his sentence with " The Lord have mercy on your soul ! " Since he had reached his present station he had been to London ; had seen the king (at a distance) ; had been in the Houses of Parliament ; talked of the forms of the House ; and, some time after his return, had assumed, as nearly as he could, the attitude of the Lord Chancellor. He had also instructed his subordinates to abridge My Lord into My Lud, when addressing him ; talked of getting up a church that would rival St Paul's, and throw old St Giles entirely into shade ; of constructing public i8o THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. promenades to vie with St James' Park ; bridges which would make that of Westminster look common; and even at one time entertained the idea of changing the current of the Water of Leith, and leading it right through the centre of the city, in order that the sneer of visitors at its waterless bridges should no longer have either truth or point* Nairn felt highly honoured in having his name coupled with that of my aunt in such a manner by so great a man, and, in returning thanks, said he was proud to see the merits of Miss Hepburn so justly appreciated, and so handsomely acknow- ledged. " He was happy to add," he said, " his humble testi- mony to her worth. Her brother,' 7 he concluded, " had long been the same as a brother to him ; and if ever the tie should be drawn closer by the agency of such an admirable sister, it would tend so much the more to his gratification." The provost chuckled ; he had brought out an acknowledg- ment; he had unravelled the secret of the Laird's affection. The usual loyal toasts followed; and Nairn rose to propose the health of the city member. Long and intimate had been his connection with "The Gude Town," much had she flour- ished under the auspices of him and his family, and he begged leave to propose the health of the honourable member, with all the honours. The honourable member returned thanks. "It had been the chief pride and glory of his life," he said, " to represent * This rage for improvement on the part of the provost is by no means singular, and doubtless proceeds from the love of fame inherent in all those who hold such stations. In Edinburgh especially, there has been no provost since the time of the immortal George Drummond who has not been anxious to have his name associated with some fancied improvement. If he has missed the honour of being knighted, then it becomes indis- pensably necessary that he should have his name on some street, however obscure ; which street will probably have an inscription stating that the foundation-stone was laid in such and such a year, So-and-So Lord Provost. To such a ridiculous 'extent has this been carried, that foundation-stones have been laid where the buildings have never risen, and several streets destined to be dignified with the name of certain provosts have never yet been built, although some twenty years have elapsed since the great man gave the three ? mystic strokes, and, in all the pomp and pageantry of a masonic procession, deposited a foundation-stone containing his own im- mortal name. O ! this love of fame, what tricks it plays us ! Local dis- tinction is everything to a small mind, and the love of local distinction makes even sensible men guilty of strange vagaries. THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 181 Jie capital of his native country in the House of Commons ; and this honour was enhanced by the circumstance, that he could look back to a long line of ancestors who had stood in a similar situation with himself, and between whom and the excellent Town Council the utmost harmony of feeling at all times subsisted." This was treading on my uncle's corny toe. The member saw it, and concluded by saying, " Gentlemen, I return you again my best thanks, and beg to assure you, that, whether in or out of office, I shall always be proud to be among the ranks of such enlightened and patriotic citizens as your- selves, who are all endeavouring to advance the prosperity of our beautiful and romantic city. I beg, therefore, to propose the City of Edinburgh, and the healths of the Lord Provost, Magistrates, and Council." The Lord Provost having returned thanks, continued thus, addressing the member : " I beg to assure you, sir, that the high office which I fill, and the important duties which I have to perform, are rendered comparatively easy by the assistance which I receive from those you see around me. Need I say, sir (here he laid his hand on his heart), how grateful I feel for your kind attention to our wants at all times. I had an oppor- tunity when in London of experiencing such kindness at your hands as I shall never forget. But when the bill, which I then submitted to you, and which, through your exertions, passed the legislature, shall come into operation, and the proposed four inches and a-half shall be taken off the centre of the High Street, your name will be hallowed and embalmed in the memory of all good citizens. I again, in my own name, and in that of my colleagues, return you our best thanks; and before I sit down, allow me to claim a bumper to the ancient baronies of Portsburgh and Canongate, coupled with the health of the barons, both of whom I am delighted to see present." Both barons rose at once, but the Canongate baron had dipped rather deeply, and could but nod to his Portsburgh brother for a speech. The baron of Portsburgh, however, stuttered when he spoke, and consequently was unable to make a speech, but instead sung the following song, in praise of his own locality : 182 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. THE AULD WEST PORT. THE days are sair changed wi' the auld West Port, Whaur ance a wee loon I gat schulin' an' sport ; Now far wearing through, though few fouters care for';. Yet dear to my soul is the auld West Port. Ilka auld water-wife wi' her stoups at the well, Ilka laigh half shop-door, wi' its wee tinklin bell, Ilka howff whaur wee callants were wont to resort, Are a' stannin' yet in the auld West Port. The wee merchant shops kept by tidy auld dames, Wi' sign-brods sae worn ye could scarce read the names ; When we gae the puir bodies their last sad escort, No ae ee was dry in the auld West Port. The stown licks o' sugar, the sair pykit bread, The apple and gundy stands, ne'er frae our head, The lang hungry kippins, the bawbees aye short, We aye fand a hame in the auld West Port. The bare-fitted races, the twisted cowt knocks, The clamberinMike goats up the high Castle rocks; The bools, paips, and piries, an' a' siccan sport, Were aye played wi' birr in the auld West Port. The rough snaw-ba' bickers, the twa-fisted rows, The hard shinty peltings, an' bruised bluidy pows ; The big fouter's coutcher, the wee loon's retort ; I see them whiles yet in the auld West Port. Then let a' her sons like true men play their parts, Let a' her auld stories be linked round their hearts ; An' the foul fa' the loon wha wad sneevil or snort At the true Scottish pith o' the auld West Port. O ! bright is the halo, an' glorious the blaze That lights up the heart wi' the fire o' auld days ; An' gin my heart twangs strong, O ! blame me na for't, Mind, I gat it strung in the auld West Port. THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 183 By the time this song was completed, my uncle, who had been screwing his courage to the sticking point, got upon his feet, and, addressing the Lord Provost, thus proceeded : " My Lord, I am sure that I only anticipate your wishes, when I propose the health of our excellent host, my friend, Mr William Nairn. Of the same political creed with the most of you here, you must delight in his prosperity ; and although he and I do not sail in the same political boat, yet connected as he is with the house of Hepburn, to which I owe so much, it is natural that we all should wish to see him in possession of the property of his progenitors. While proposing his health, I take the liberty of suggesting to the honourable member for the city, that his parliamentary influence could not be better exerted than in endeavouring to advance the suit of so loyal a subject, and so true a man, who, although the nearest known heir to the Keith estate, can only at present boast of this old house as a lairdship, and ' The Laird of the Mint' as his title." Nairn returned thanks, and- said^ " That although for himself he did not place a very high value on wealth, he thought that the descendants of the families who had been out in the cause of the Stuarts at the rebellion were now the best friends to the Hanoverian succession, and although indifferent, in so far as his own individual interests were concerned, yet he trusted that the city member would use his influence to obtain a general measure of pardon and indemnity to the unfortunate victims of the mistaken zeal and loyalty of their ancestors." This was rather much for the city member, whose sagacious and experienced eye saw at once that he had been invited here for the purpose of being drawn out or pledged on this particular matter, and he was about to frame an evasive answer, but was relieved from his embarrassment by the entrance of Aunt Matty, to announce the arrival of the ladies. The member of course led the van to the ball-room,, followed by my uncle and the most of the junior part of the company. Nairn and: a number of the old stagers sat still ; being, as they said, rather stiff at all times, and none the nimbler for the quantity of liquor they had swallowed. Never did the Mint witness a brighter galaxy of beauty than it beheld that night assembled within its precincts to grace the long-looked for ball. It had been talked of so much over all the town as the last grand display likely to, take place in that 184 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. vicinity, that people came from all quarters to witness it, and the street, as well as the close and court, was crowded with spectators. Sedan chairs came burdened with fair ladies, who seemed to feel it incumbent on them to sustain on this last oc- casion the dignity of that ancient portion of the city. In this anxiety to uphold the respectability of the Laird's turn-out, these fair ladies were well supported by the two matrons, Matty and Nanny, who were determined to make the affair go off as brilliantly as possible. Flambeau-bearers were stationed in the close, whose flaring lights put to shame the dull, dingy strag- gling lamps. Old, thin faced, and grey-haired men and women, who had been residents there for half a century, were seen pop- ping their heads out at the low dark doors, or bending over the high windows with a joyful gaze, as if they had newly awakened from a long sleep, and were delighted and astonished to find the youthful days of themselves and their neighbourhood re- turned. The broad flag-stair, which led up to Nairn's mansion was laid with carpeting. The Edinburgh arms were emblazoned in front of the house, and lighted up with party-coloured lamps. The boys in the vicinity, with whom Nairn was a great favour- ite, had brought from Bellevue that morning large boughs of trees, with laurel leaves and lilac flourishing, and with these formed a triumphal arch over the entrance to the Mint. Their bickerings with the Town Guard, whom the provost had secretly commissioned to keep order, were confined to mimicking the broken English of the staunch Celtic veterans, with whom, on the present occasion, the urchins seemed to be on a more friendly footing than usual. This good humour on the part of the boys was caused by their knowledge of the Laird's liberality, and the conviction that their exertions would not go unrequited. They were not disappointed, for a plentiful shower of coppers was scattered from the window amongst them, with which they scampered off ,to the .High Street, and spent on such com- modities as THE GABERLUNZI&S WALLET. 185 ROSY CHEEKIT APPLES. OME awa, bairnie, for your bawbee Rosy cheekit apples ye shall hae three ; A' sae fou o' hinny, they drappit frae the tree, Like your bonny sel', a' the sweeter they are wee Come awa, bairnie, dinna shake your head, Ye mind me o' my ain bairn, lang, lang dead ; Ah ! for lack o' nourishment he drappit frae the tree, Like your bonny sel', a' the sweeter he was wee. O auld frail folks are like auld fruit-trees, They canna stand the gnarl o' the auld warPs breeze ; But Heaven taks the fruit, though earth forsake the tree, An' we mourn our fairy blossoms, a' the sweeter they were wee. The ball-room had been entirely emptied of furniture. The windows were closed, and their deep recesses were lined and overarched with bays and flowers, and studded in the centre with lights, rendered still brighter by polished reflectors. My uncle had superintended the busking part of the operations, and a batch of boys from Heriot's Hospital, under his direc- tions, had exhibited the perfection of their June-day flower- dressing on this joyous occasion. Norie had decorated the floor with fancy chalking ; and that witty old wag had quartered Nairn's arms with those of Hepburn's, a conceit with which the Laird seemed delighted ; whether intended as emblematic of a , union between my aunt and him, or as indicating his family connections, the design was much admired and greatly praised. My uncle, with a bouquet of flowers in his breast, stood on the top of the stair, handing the ladies from their chairs, and arming them into the little lobby between the two rooms, where they were received and announced by my aunt with all due ceremony. The ladies were splendidly dressed ; but my aunt, with her elegant shape, rendered still more so by the antique dress which she wore, outshone them all. The young budding bailies and courting councillors were in the top of the fashion ; and many a fond look was .exchanged, many a soft sigh echoed, and many a heart lost an.d won, even before the dancing com- menced. The member for the city and my aunt, my uncle and the provost's lady, led off the ball their example was 1 86 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. speedily followed by others; in a few minutes the floor was covered with dancers the jesting and tittering went on the dancers flew like light the old floor sprang with elastic bound beneath its animated burden the musician caught the enthusiasm, and played away delightfully, changing reels into strathspeys alternately, without a pause, or any appearance of weariness, till those on the floor were fairly worn out, when others rose to supply their places, all shouted with excitement ; they felt the music in their hearts and in their heels, and they leaped into the air in the madness of their joy. In the meantime Nairn and his old friends were still in the dining-room, busily engaged in drinking healths, and making themselves merry in a way more congenial to the tastes of such veterans than dancing. Sentiment succeeded sentiment, toast followed toast, until their enthusiasm was roused to the highest pitch ; the sounds were transmitted from the one room to the other through the thin wooden partition which divided them, so that the loud laugh and merry chuckle of the elders but served to quicken th'e mirth of the younger members of the party. The Laird at last attained that particular pitch of excitement which invariably elicited his favourite song, and he now, ac- cordingly, struck up, in a fine clear mellow voice, " The auld Stuarts back again.' 7 The musician stopped the dancers stayed the dance, and all listened in breathless admiration as the clear tremulous notes ascended the doors of both rooms were opened, to allow of the sounds passing more freely. The chorus was caught up by the whole company, and sung with an energy that made the roof-tree of the old Mint ring again the fiddler sat apparently wrapped up in the melody, and seemingly much agitated, till, at the end of the chorus, he seized his bow and fiddle, and played over the tune with a bold, sweeping, thrilling effect. The Laird started, turned pale, stopped breathless in the middle of his song ; his whole frame became convulsed, and exclaiming, "My God, the fiddler !" he sprung up, old as he was, leaped over the table, overturning glasses, jugs, and decanters, and reached the door just in time to see a figure glide through the lobby, and mingle with the crowd in the court. In this figure, though seen but for an instant, he recognised the very man whom he was most anxious to meet with ; and grievously was he tantalised to find him thus eluding his grasp like a shadow, at the very instant when he seemed within his reach. THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 187 CHAPTER VIII. Weary fa' the fiddler, what took him awa ? An' I the flower o' a' the ball haena danced ava ; Wi' grannie's rings, and minny's pearlins, decked sae rich an* braw, Weary fa' the fiddler, what took him awa ! Mint Rhyme. THE sudden disappearance of the musician, and the emotion evinced by Nairn, excited the wonder of the numerous guests, and put a stop to the exuberant mirth and hilarity hitherto maintained in both dining and ball rooms. The whole com- pany rushed to the door after the Laird, and in their eagerness to ascertain the cause of his sudden excitement, pressed so closely around him, as to render it impossible for him to stir a step further in pursuit of the object of his anxiety; while, to complete his embarrassment, a feeling of shame, at the un- guarded extravagance of his own conduct, was mingled with regret for the opportunity he had lost of ascertaining the fate of those credentials so essential to the completion of a design, in the furtherance of which he was so warmly interested. For some time his mind remained entirely abstracted from the scene around him, and it was not till the voice of Aunt Matty was heard, exclaiming in tones that were distinctly heard above all the turmoil, " Laird Nairn, Laird Nairn ! what has come ower ye?" that the Laird recovered himself sufficiently to conduct his company back to the ball-room. Then, in answer to num- erous inquiries, he explained, that the musician who had appeared and disappeared so suddenly and unexpectedly, was, he firmly believed, a very old acquaintance, whom he had long thought dead ; that he was convinced of his identity from the manner in which some semitones in the melody of " The auld Stuarts back again " had been blended together ; that, startled by the well-known sounds, he had given way to his feelings in the extraordinary manner they had witnessed. " Now that I think of it,' 7 he added, ".I wonder, seeing the oddness of my conduct, that you did not all run out of the house together, as well as the poor musician, who has always been of a nervous 1 88 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. temperament. Where he has come from, or whither gone, I cannot at all conjecture, but I have no doubt Miss Hepburn here, to whom we all owe so much, and by whom he was engaged for this occasion, will be able afterwards to satisfy my curiosity. Meantime," he continued, addressing my aunt, "you will perhaps, madam, add to the many favours you have already conferred on me, by supplying the place of the missing musician, and thus enable our friends to continue their merri- ment, which must not be stayed on any account. We shall have my old grandaunt's spinnet brought downstairs. I am sure you will readily take your place at the instrument, and keep up the dance, which I have to express my sincere regret for having undesignedly interrupted." Aunt Matty at once acceded to the Laird's request. The ancient instrument, with its silver keys, which had sounded right merrily in this very house at a ball given by Nairn's father to the officers of Prince Charles's army, was again rendered fit for duty, and subsequently touched with great delicacy and skill by my aunt, who played Scotch reels and strathspeys with singular vigour and spirit. The gentlemen expressed their delight with the change in the musical department, if not as to the instrument, at least as regarded the performance; and several of the ladies afterwards insinuated that the de- parture of the fiddler had been contrived beforehand, to afford the good lady an opportunity of showing off her antiquated accomplishments. The festive board was in due time spread, or rather loaded, with a splendid supper, which was done ample justice to by the party, who afterwards separated, as usual, so highly delighted with themselves, that they scarcely reserved a corner in their hearts for gratitude to their entertainer, who found, as is not unfrequently the case on such occasions, that the object he had in view was not in any way forwarded by the entertainment on which so much labour and money had been expended. After the guests had departed, and my uncle, as became such a gay and accomplished gallant, had gone away to convoy home some of the ladies whose liege lords or loving fathers had got a little top-heavy, my aunt had a long conversation with Nairn regarding the fiddler. She could give no account of him further than that having been attracted one night in the High Street, along with many others, by the superior THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 189 manner in which he played Scotch reels and strathspeys, she had made her way to him through the crowd, and engaged him for this occasion. She added, "I'm sure there winna be muckle difficulty in finding him out, unless, indeed, he had some reason for evading you, and then he'll likely leave the toon." 4 Reason !" said Nairn, " he could have no reason for evading me, but what may have been caused by my sudden and abrupt exclamation. Yet he might have perceived that it indicated anything but evil to him. Besides, he ought to have known the house well, and to have been quite aware of my friendly disposition towards him." " Yes," said my sagacious aunt, " but in this he showed mair discretion than you. For, frae your awfu' yell, whilk rings in my ears even yet, he wad very likely think that ye were gaun to tell your guests wha he was ; and aiblins he has his ain reasons for keepin' that secret to himsel'. Even yet, there's no ower muckle charity gaun for folk o' his persuasion ; but bide ye till our friend the Gaberlunzie comes back, he'll be sure to ken a' the howffs o' siccan clanjamphry, and can gang amang them as gin he were ane o' themsel's, and that's what neither you nor me can do; he winna be lang o' howkin the auld fiddler out o' his hole; but are ye sure it's him?" "As sure as you are sitting beside me now," answered >Jairn. " Atweel an' that's sure enough," said my aunt, " as your lugs and my tongue can testify, for the ringin' o' the tane, an' the tinglin' o' the ither, wad rival the bell an' bell tongue o' auld St Giles himsel'. But I maun bid ye gude mornin' ; for my brither, wha has been seeing Deacon Cordivan's wife an' daughters hame, has come back to convoy me to the square. We'll see ye up by the morn," added she, " or I'll be doun betimes, to gie Nanny a hand in reddin' up the house. Od help us ! what a disjaskit lookin' thing is a ball and supper room after the party hae left them. What a warld o' trouble we women bodies hae that naebody kens o' but oursel's, afore we get a' our nick-nackets in order again !" " Indeed," said my uncle, " ye hae nae occasion to com- plain, Matty ; it was a' your ain doing ; and although I didna hook the salmon for a' the gude bait and line I offered, your trouble's no a' lost, now that we ken the musician's living." 190 THE GABERLUNZIE S WALLET. " Many thanks, many thanks, my good, kind friends," con- tinued Nairn. " But good-night ; I see you are impatient to get home ; that queer loon the Gaberlunzie will soon be back, and then for the fiddler." In the course of a few days the Gaberlunzie did return from the country, and was delighted and astonished, though some- what disappointed, to learn the result of the grand entertain- ment. Of course, he was much more interested in the appear- ance and disappearance of the musician, than excited by the long catalogue of dresses detailed to him by Matty, or the his- tory of the fearful outlay of money, as retailed to him by Nanny. Neither did he seem much affected by the condescen- sion of "the member;" and all the outgoings and incomings connected with the great event, were evidently matters of minor importance to him compared with the incident of the fiddler, about whom he asked many questions. He made Nairn imitate his style of playing ; my uncle, who was noted for his mimicry, smoothed out his cue, contracted the muscles of his mouth, bent his head forward, and looked the very man. After observing all these points attentively, the Gaberlunzie declared that he would know the fiddler among a thousand, and if he was within broad Scotland he would discover his hiding-place. Accordingly, on the following day, he set out on a voyage of discovery, and day after day, night after night, continued perambulating the city, exploring every street, lane, and alley, but without success. On one occasion, however, after having spent the whole day in this fruitless pursuit, he found himself at night in the West Bow, when it occurred to him that in that neighbourhood there was a howff, or low-public house, where a number of street musicians, and dissipated per- sons of all sorts, were wont to assemble in the evenings, and this rendezvous he resolved on visiting, in the forlorn hope that here he might procure some tidings of the missing musician. But as the Old West Bow has now become one of the things that were, it may not be out of place here to put on record a short general outline of what then constituted one of the most remarkable features of the ancient city. This very narrow and tortuous street, or rather alley, ascended at acute angles the most abrupt portion of the ridge on which the old town is cradled, and was perhaps the most unique specimen of antique irregular architecture to be found in Europe. THE GABERLUNZI&S WALLET. 191 The form of the houses generally harmonized admirably with the steep ascent of the street, and, by mere accident, seemed to have been arranged in every point with a due regard to pictorial effect. There was much irregularity in the tall build- ings, yet a general stately bearing characterized them all, and the dotted, twisted, and irregular outline, when seen from the street, strongly relieved against the blue sky, was bold, pic- turesque, and striking. Several of the tallest tenements had square leaden roofs, surrounded with open embrasured bal- conies, from which projected stone waterspouts cut into the shape of cannon, a conceit said by some of our local antiquaries to have been originally intended to give strangers an exagger- ated idea of the strength of the old city. Others of the build- ings had high gables, which faced the street, and tapered up into lofty pediments, generally terminated by sculptured roses, thistles, crescents, or fleurs-de-lis. Some of these crow-stepped roofs were very steep, and contained two distinct storeys above the eaves of the houses. Outside stairs and wooden balconies were thrown forward into this narrow and crowded thorough- fare, making it still more narrow and contracted. There were large oaken window frames, with very deep and beautifully cut mouldings, and the window tops were frequently carved and adorned with varied quaint devices. The street exhibited likewise many low-browed doors of a heavy antique construc- tion, rivetted by strong iron hinges batted into the wall. On these doors were to be seen the old-fashioned rasps and long bodied knockers in use during the last century, while on the lintel-stones were carved curious mottoes, indicating a laudable anxiety on the part of the builders of these ancient edifices to transmit, not only their names, or the initials of their names, to posterity, but good, sound/ moral, and patriotic maxims, similar to the following : 1 92 THE GABERLUNZI&S WALLET. Altogether there was a smack of originality about this ancient locality, which, added to the old associations therewith con- nected, greatly enhanced the interest of the antiquarian relics with which it abounded. There still remained sunk in the walls a portion of a hinge belonging to the gate of the Over- bow Port, where the triumphal arch had been erected on the joyous occasion of Charles I.'s visit to the metropolis of his ancient kingdom, and where the Lady Caledonia, in rich attire, received and congratulated his Majesty on his arrival, in a poetic speech, of which the following lines may serve as a specimen : " The heavens have heard our vows, our just desires Obtained are, no higher now aspires Our wishing thought, since to his native clime The flower of Princes, honour of his time, Enchanting all our dales, hills, forests, streams, As Phoebus doth the summer with his beams, Is come, and radiant to us in his train. The golden age and virtues brings again." In the West Bow also was situated the Assembly Rooms, where the rank and beauty of the city in former days had tripped through the mazy dance. Here also was pointed out with superstitious horror the deserted house occupied of yore by Major Weir, of diabolical celebrity, who was wont to be whirled down the steep causeway at midnight in a carriage driven by the Prince of Darkness, and drawn by four headless black chargers, the noise of the wheels, and the glare of the Lucifer torches, accompanied by storms of thunder and light- ning, often alarming the peaceful inhabitants at that dismal hour, which Burns has so happily called the " keystone " of " night's black arch." Although the height, closeness, and general cold gray colour of the buildings in this narrow and crooked street gave it a somewhat dull and sombre air, yet, when a stray sunbeam did struggle through some of the angular corners, it glistened brilliantly among the white shells with which the plaster fronts of the houses were thickly studded, and lightened the hearts of many a merry group of artisans, as busily employed at the anvil or the fire they sung away right cheerily in their dingy workshops. The chief thoroughfare to the western suburban districts, and the line of communication between the W EST BOW: MIDNIGHT. and drawn, />: tt wity superstitious Tiorrar, fhf, -des- ."vTry MAJOR VftlR.of dicibo&cal : ;/ the. steep causeway a,], \ . Prtnce of. Darkness, r,iers. THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 193 High Street and Grassmarket, where all the weekly fairs and markets were held, the West Bow was one of the most noisy quarters of the city. The clinking of coppersmiths' hammers, the bawling of speech-criers, ballad-singers, and vendors of street merchandise, were mingled with the scraping of fiddles, the beating of drums, and the squeaking of cracked clarionets. Wonderful exhibitions were also shown there, from wooden Punchinello to the ground-and-lofty tumbling of ladies and gentlemen in spangled dresses and with carnationed faces. Most of the shops were such as dealt in the common neces- saries of life, with which they were generally crammed to the door; broadcloth, caps, kebbocks, stockings, wooden dishes, crockery, and other equally useful articles, being jumbled together in apparently inextricable confusion ; thus rendering the West Bow a sort of emporium of homely merchandise and curious nick-nacks, and a source of great amusement to the urban wanderer. The howff, or low public-house, to which the Gaberlunzie had proceeded on his mission of inquiry, was situated about the middle of this very characteristic entrance to Auld Reekie. It was kept by a Highlander, who sold, or professed to sell, genuine Ferintosh very cheap. The entrance-door to Donald's hostelry was in a narrow corner, formed by one of the acute angles of the Bow, with a curious half-hidden wooden front, above which projected a roof of the same material, and before which hung a large angular sign-board, on one side of which was painted with alluring fidelity a sheep's head and a kail-pot, and on the other side the figure of a Highlander working at a still the whole supposed to be symbolical of the low-priced refreshments to be had within. The persons who patronised this establishment were of a rather anomalous description. Amongst them were a number of jovial mechanics, who, attracted by the charms of music, were in the habit of mingling with the street professors of that delightful art, which here divided dominion with the god of grog, if there be such a deity. Several of the subordinate local dignitaries, such as the town bellman, drummer, and others, were in the habit of visiting the house secretly, the liquor being low-priced, and the place not one where they were likely to be sought. But the following cantata, opening with an address to the chief personage who was wont to rule as monarch of the N 194 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. feast, is perhaps better adapted than anything I can do, in the way of prose description, to give my readers an idea of the worshipful fraternity into which the search for the fiddler led the Gaberlunzie a picture of a club in low life, without which any representation of Edinburgh at the time now spoken of would be incomplete : THE NAILER'S GLORY : A CANTATA. AULD, doiter'd, donnert, daidlin' creature, Thou wee black speck o' human nature ! Ilk bloatit, bruckit, barkit feature Proclaims thy story, An' tells, though thou art scrimp in stature, Thou'rt great in glory. A buddin', braid, carbuncled beak Spreads ower your phiz frae cheek to cheek A bushy beard, as thick as theek, Begirts your mou, Wi' sneeshing an' tobacco-reek A' singet through. Aneath your shaggy ee-brees brink Are twa black een that sleely wink THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 195 At ilka tale ye tell, they blink Clear, keen, an' bright, An' sparkle at ilk waught o' drink Like stars o' light. Your gab gangs at an endless gallop, Laden wi' lees at ilka wallop ; Auld Clootie's sel' could ne'er develop Sic plots an' lees, As the lang whuds that thou can call up Wi' perfect ease. Your sooty, singet, brunt bit brattie, Strung round your buik, ye waichlin fattie ; Your auld knee-breekums, rent and clattie, And your auld pate, Stuck in a rimless sodger's hattie, Wi' regal state. A never-ending, munching muddle, A mixtie-maxtie steghing puddle, Ye've been this forthnight on the fuddle, Fy ! fy ! for shame ; Nor greetin' weans, nor wifie's cuddle Can wyle ye hame. Around ye sit your chosen wordies, Cockin' their heads as high as lordies, Wi' street musicians, skirling bardies, An' lazy louts, Girnin ower grating hurdie-gurdies, Or crackit flutes. Deaf Wattie, wi' his squeaking fife, Blind clarionet Jock, wi's lang lean wife ; Wee foreign blackguards chattering rife Wi' their vile puggies, Mimickin' mankind to the life, Striddling ower doggies. Auld Hawkie, roaring rough and rudely, Jock and his mither bawlin' loudly, 196 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. Blind fiddler Duncan, struntin' proudly, An' crawing crousely, Led by a wee lang luggit poodlie, As auld's Methusaleh. The broken-winded, spavint poacher, The penny-writer, scuffy sloucher, The muckle, pechlin, greasy butcher, The shear-shank'd tailor, Wee Jockie, and his tough auld gutcher, The tree legg't sailor. The miller, fuddlin' a' his mouter Wi' the wee, wardless, windy souter, The wylie glass-eed sodger fouter, The drouthy hatter, An' Vulcan, like a red-het couter, Bizzing in water. The inky coated, paddlin' preacher, The sallow napkin'd carritch teacher, The auld grave-digger, pawky fleecher, Confabbing thrang, Wi' the swart-visaged body-snatcher, Sae lank an' lang. Town-drummer Tarn, wi's drummie ruffin', Town-beagle Bob, wi's cheekies buffin', Town-crier Sandy, swelled and puffin', Wi' loads o' drink, An' mim-mou'd Mungo, kenn'd for scuffin' The puir-box clink. Ye'll sit, an' soak there, gude confound ye, Wi' sic a batch o' blackguards round ye, Wha, fired wi' drunken zeal, hae crown'd ye King o' their feast ; An' e'en your wife's tongue canna stound ye, Nor gar ye reist. THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 197 O ! listen, puir demented loon, To this your wifie's kindly croon, Wha, after howkin' a' the town, Huntin' for you, Find ye encircled roun' an' roun' Wi' sic a crew. TUNE " Three time: crowdy in a day. WEE bit bruckit, drunken bodie, Drinkin', daidlin' a' the day ; Gin ye winna work for crowdie, What can your puir wifie do ? A' the weans cry crowdie, crowdie, Crowdie, mammy, crowdie mae ; Till the wee bit hungry totts Hae crowdied a' my meal away. In comes Jockie frae the school, In comes Davock frae his play ; The twa twin totttims on my knee Are skirlin' for their crowdie too. The auld blind man cam to the door, Wist ye but my heart was wae To let him gang without his crowdie ? But my meal was a' away. Twasome dainty strapping callants, Twasome lassock twins we hae ; But gin ye winna work for crowdie, Ne'er o' me '11 hae ony mae. 198 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. RECITATIVE. This waesome croonach scuffs his ear, He caresna fort a jot ; The ne'er an inch he'll budge or steer, But table's down his groat ; The motely group hurrah an' cheer, While the auld wairdless sot Taks a lang waught his pipes to clear, An' up his husky throat Comes loud and strang. TUNE " I hae laid a herrin' in saut" O ! WHAT care I for the joys o' a hame, The loun ingle-cheek has nae pleasure for me ; Skirlin' weans, an' a girngo dame, Might set ony man to the barley bree. Our auld Luckie comes, an' she gaunts an' she girns, Sic a puir fusionless bodie is she ; An' she sings out for meal to her supperless bairns, But we'll soon steek her gab wi' the barley-bree. Come, sit ye down, Luckie, an' gie us your croon, Why wad ye break up gude company ? By my gude faith, an' we'll rise ower soon, Unless we get tick o' mair barley-bree. Sons o' the nappy, we canna do less Than honour the source o' our humour an' glee ; So let ilka crony now coup aff his glass, To better acquaintance wi' barley-bree. RECITATIVE. This drunken rant is roar'd and rung Wi' aid o' fiddle, fife, and tongue, Wi' deafening mirth and glee ; Even the puir wine's master'd wi't, And sits her down, maist like to greet, To ee the jovial spree. THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 199 When up jumps limping Sailor Jack, And spits his quid in's fist ; Syne licking baith lips wi' a smack, Like lasses when they're kiss'd, He bawls out, he brawls out, Wi' lusty rantin' roar, And flustering and blustering, Thus yells his " Jack's ashore." TUNE "Jack's the go ! " WHO'LL go with me over the sea, Breasting the billows merrily ; With a tight little ship, and a bright can of flip, What heart but braves it cheerily : Winds may blow, high or low, Steady, ready, merry, cheery, Jack's the go ! The star of love that beams above Shines down all pure and holily; We'll brave the breeze, we'll sweep the seas, With bosoms beating jollily : Winds may blow, high or low, Steady, ready, merry, cheery, Jack's the go ! Then, while we're afloat in our island boat, Let's reef and steer her warily ; And if our foes dare come to blows, We'll meet them taut and yarily : Winds may blow, high or low, Steady, ready, merry, cheery, Jack's the go ! RECITATIVE. Auld sodger Willie's glass ee glanced, His head heaved high and haughty, Wi' anger he stark-mad maist danced, But Jack was stout an' doughty ; And though Will could hae seen him lanced, He pawkily and paughty Smoor'd in his wrath, though up he pranced Wi' air like monarch moughty, And bawl'd wi' birr. THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. TUNE;* The girl I left behind me." A SOLDIER'S life is a merry, merry life, With his musket over his shoulder, He marches on through blood and strife, Bolder still, and bolder ; 'Mid cannons' roar, and trumpets' blast, 'Mid bombs and bullets flying, He tears away like a man to the last, And damns the French when dying ! Then O ! how snug when he's beat the French And at home in barracks laying, He strolls about with his buxom wench, The devil a penny paying ; He lists recruits, gets drunk and fights, He swaggers, swears, and blusters ; Goes home, and shakes himself to rights, Then on parade he musters ! Then O ! how merrily rolls away The life of a gallant soldier ; Kill or no kill, he pockets his pay, And heaves care o'er his shoulder : And when an eye or limb is lost, With his pension every quarter, / He quaffs his grog at his country's cost, And is crown'd his country's martyr ! Then how shall a sailor dog set up, To cope with a soldier's glory, A swad with his girl, his gun, and his cup, Is the star of Briton's story : And while you've noble Moira* here, With a gallant British army, Nor Spanish Don, nor French Monseer, Nor the devil himself, shall harm ye ! * Earl Moira about this time reviewed 10,000 troops on Leith and Portobello Sands, and was consequently a great hero with the Edinburgh public. THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 201 RECITATIVE. By this the twa at fisticuffs, Wi' boisterous blows, an* thuds, an* buffs, Lay sprawling on the ground ; The sailor's trick er snapt in twa, The sodger's glass ee struck the wa', And flew in flinders round. The nailer swore a brimstane aith, An' raise wi' muckle ire ; Syne by the neck he seized them baith, An' gaur'd their skulls strike fire ! He strappit them, he slappit them, He shook them hard and sair ; An' swore faith, he'd smoor baith, Gin they daur'd quarrel mair ! The swad and sailor now maun pay The nailer's dram between them, Nor ane around a word daur say, Nor move a peg to 'freen' them : Dumfounder'd a', and weel they may, Sic swatch o' power he's gi'en them ; Till " whup the cat " lilts aff his lay, Right fain frae war to wean them, Wi's canty sang ! TUNE" Dainty Davie." O ! WHA'S the loun can clout the claes, Canty Davie, dainty Davie ; Wha the lassocks' spunks can raise Like little tailor Davie ? Though callants ca' him " whup the cat," And men folk curse his gabbin' chat, The lassies they find nae sic faut Wi' kindly little Davie ! O ! blythe is ilka body's house Whaur Davie sits and cracks fou crouse ; Nae post-bag's half sae cramm'd wi' news As tonguey tailor Davie i THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. The weanies round him in. a raw, He raises sic a loud guffaw, You'll hear the din a mile awa O' them and tailor Davie ! The auld man's roomy weddin* coat, Wi' age an' moths scarce worth a groat, Maks breeks to Tarn, an' coat to Jock, An' spats to tailor Davie. O ! wha's the loon, &c. RECITATIVE. Now lang blind Jock and's wee auld mither, Sits cowerin' in the neuk thegither, As tosh and tozy wi' ilk ither As lad an' lass, Rakin their pocks to raise anither Three-bawbee glass. They cough to clear their barkit thrapples, As rustit as twa auld pipe-stapples, Wi' smoking dottles, drinkin' drapples, An' boltin' skran, Syne Jock his mither's shouther grapples, An' thus began : THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 203 TUNE " Whistle ower the lave o't." JOCK. O COME, my minnie, come wi' me, We'll rattle aff a stave wi' glee, An' gin we get a glass for fee, We'll whistle ower the lave o't. She. Troth, Jockie, I am cauld as lead, Ye've struck the right nail on the head, And gin we had anither bead We'd whistle ower the lave o't. He. Full thirty years are past an' gane Sin' I cam hame as blin's a stane ; I've cost ye mony a pech an' grane, But whistle ower the lave o't. She. My wee blind Jockie on my back, Wi' spunks an' ballants in my pack, I a' the kintry side did hawk, An' whistled ower the lave o't. He. Sin' that first day, when cock-bird heigh, I by your side began to skreigh, Though fortune whiles was dour an' dreigh, We whistled ower the lave o't. She. Wi' our twa tongues, aye waggin' loud, We've gather'd round us mony a crowd, An' o' ilk ither aye were proud, An' whistled ower the lave o't. He. O ! we've seen mony ups an' douns Sin we began to croon thro' towns ; But whisky a' our sorrow drowns, Sae whistle ower the lave o't. She. O ! ne'er ye mind, my bonny Jock, The weans may pouk our tails an' mock, But while we've twopence in our pock, We'll whistle ower the lave o't. 204 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. RECITATIVE. This croon was cheer'd wi' sic a shout, That roused the hedge apostle, Wha frae the fire end, elbows out, Wi' big important bustle : He mounts the table wi' a bout, Gaurs stoups and glasses jostle, An' syne the wee bit gabby smout, Wi' voice like penny whistle, Cheeps loud an' clear. TUNE " The Quaker's Wife." YE may talk o' your monks, the barefitted hunks, And your beggarly temperance teachers ; Wi' them wha command a' the fat o' the land, Your Papist an' Prelatic preachers ; The neap-headed fules, wi' their auld fusted schules, May croon ower their Hebrew an' Greek, O ! But gin ye're in need o' a saul-stirring screed, Just clap ye a gill in my cheek, O I I trail here an' there, through foul and through fair, Through ilka wee clachan an' village ; An' mony a heart wi' a word I convert, An' mony a penny I pillage : Wi' my hat at my feet, in the midst o' the street, On a table I take up my stand, O ! Till thrapples are wheezing, an' bosoms are bleezing, Wi' a stab o' my sharp-pointed brand, O ! In braw gentry's houses, sic guzzles an' bouses, Frae kindly housekeepers, auld maidens ; An' at half-mark weddin's I bless aye the beddin's In spite o' my brethren's upbraidin's ; What mischief care I for the black-coated fry, Though they've clappit me under their ban, O ! Let puir body's cuddle, I'll swallow their fuddle, And marry as mony's I can, O ! THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 205 RECITATIVE. This done, up rose the auid grave-digger, A half-immortal, mortal swigger, A hoary harden'd sinner ; His snawy locks, his furrow' d brow, His hard braced jaws, his pursell'd mou, Show'd he was nae beginner, But had seen ages come and gang, An' moulder into clay ; While aye he drank, and aye he sang, And laugh'd auld Death away. Now snuffin', now stuffin', His beak as fou's 'twad bang, He snivellin' an 7 drivellin', Roared up his howkin' sang. TUNE "There's nae luck about the house." A green Yule, a green Yule, A green Yule for me ; A green Yule maks a fat kirkyard, An' that's the Yule for me. 206 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. Then young an' auld, wi' cough an' cauld, Come hoastin' ower the lea, Till daddy Death, he stops their breath, An' links them hame to me. Then manly might and beauty bright, And bairnie on the knee, Are nippit fast by winter's blast, An' shankit hame to me. Then high and law, an' grit an' sma', Maun a'thegither dee ; An' whaur's their pride, when side by side They're quietly laid by me ? 'Mang graves sae thick, wi' spade an' pick, I gain a dainty fee, An' ilka night I chuckle bright, Out ower my barley bree. A green Yule, &c. RECITATIVE. " Awa wi' sic unhallow'd sangs, Ye weirdless, wither'd naething, Or I'll come ower ye wi' the tangs, For sic polluted breathing : Gin Death ance gets ye in his fangs, He'll clout up your auld claething, An' gaur ye feel remorse's pangs, For makin' him a plaything." This speech cam frae the lang lean jaws> O's carritch teachin' brither, Wha flourish'd high his brunt-taed taws, Made o' auld tough bend leather ; The man o' skulls a saxpence draws, Whilk maks the teacher swither ; A gill comes in, he weets his hause, An' thus begins to blether. THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. TUNE "Jenny Nettles." GIE a wean his parritch, An ; dinna spare the sour-douk can, An' wi ; a bawbee carriteh I'll mak your son a man, O ! In days o' yore when I was young, We learn'd to read our mither tongue, An' mony raps wi' rape and rung We gat to mind our carriteh. New-fangled schools hae ither laws, Wi' mony English hums an' haws, But leeze me on a bunch o' taws An 7 a bawbee carriteh. A rousing palmy on the loof Will wauken up a sleepy coof, An' gaur him gie ye Scripture proof For a' the single carriteh. Your wee toun getts, sae glib an' sma', They winna stand a yerk ava, So a' my scholars rin awa Frae my taws an' carriteh. 208 THE GABERLUNZIE'S WALLET. An' guess ye what the deevils did ? They brunt my taws, my wig they hid, Syne lap upon the bunker lid, An' danced upon the carritch. Yet what for need I mak my mane, Sin' thae auld times are lang bygane, Let's hope the days will come again When weans will mind their carritch. Gie a wean, &c. RECITATIVE. Now raise a noisy gibble gabble, As gin the builders o' auld Babel Up frae their cairns had jumpit ; An' half-a-score o' boisterous tongues, Wi' gaping gabs and lowing lungs, A' sung, an' swore, an' stumpit. But drummer Tammie ruffs like stour, An' drowns the dinsome clamour ; For ilk drumstick wi's elbuck power Comes down like Vulcan's hammer. Till crustily an' lustily, Aboon the drummin' noise. Thus ringin' an' singin', Yell's out the crier's voice. TUNE " Three gude fellows." AYE drummin' Rfr |^^]B an' ruffin', Aye soakin' ~j^ f F^-^jj^^7 an> scu ffi n? 9 Aye jokin' tijte; an? stuffin', Ken ye Tarn ^^^^^J^^ an' his drum ? THE GABERLUNZI&S WALLET. 209 I trow he's a stuffy wee cricket ; Tho' cruikit, wee buikit, an' stickit, He's no very easily licket, Stuffy wee Tarn an' his drum. Whaure'er maut or mischief is brewing Whaure'er there is aught to get fou on, Whaure'er there is onything new in, You're sure to meet Tarn an' his drum. A' sleepy new married folks, scornin' To rise up betimes in the mornin', Gie Tammie his fee an' his warnin', He's sure to be there wi' his drum. The bride in a flusterin' flurry. The bridegroom a' foaming wi' fury, He bangs on his claes in a hurry, An' curses baith Tam an' his drum. At twalhours, when knee-breekit carles Slip in to their whisky an 3 farles, , Gin Tammie has gotten his arles, He's sure to be there wi' his drum. At ilka puir body's cross roupin', At ilka bit niffer or coupin', The moment ye ca' the gill-stoup in You're sure to see Tam an' his drum. At e'ening when ten o'clock's chappin', An' wark-folks a' hameward are stappin', Straught up the Heigh Street he comes pappin\ An' shuts a' the shops wi' his drum. At midnight when bodies get bouzie, An' set up in flames their bit housie, Wee Tammie, half-naked an' touzie, Awakens the town wi' his drum* When our bailies, wi' round chubby faces, Are coach'd down in state to the races, A' the racers show off their best paces, At tuck o' Wee Tam an' his drum, 210 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. I trow he is merry an' cheery, Gin ye hae him ye canna weel weary, But a' wad gang heeliegoleery Gin ye wanted Wee Tarn an' his drum. RECITATIVE. The nailer wi' the yellin' noise, Has started frae his snooze, His very heart an' banes rejoice He's still a groat to bouse : He lifts on high his vogie voice, Their faggin' spunks to rouse, .An' gies them a' a hearty hoyse, Wi's bacchanalian muse. TUNE "Brose an' Butter." Come gie us drink, drink, Come gie us drink to our supper ; The ne'er an ee shall wink Till we a' be cramm'd to the crupper. Ye may brag o' your butter an' brose, An' crack o' your cauld water crowc 1 But gie me the neb o' my nose, Ower a thumping tankard o' toddy, Ye'll put your penny to .mine, We'll a' be pennies thegither; An' siccan a dainty join, Will moisten a' our leather. An' I shall drink to you, An' you shall drink to anither, An' gin we get a' blin' fou, The tane canna laugh at the tither. THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 211 Our moil's a' spiced wi' skran, Our noddles a' fozzy wi' fuddle, Baith wifie, an' weanie, an' man, Shall kindly an* couthily cuddle. Come gie us, &c. On the particular evening of the Gaberlunzie's visit to this rendezvous, the party seemed to have arrived at the high pitch of excitement, to which the uproarious rant that concludes the cantata just quoted might be supposed to give rise. On this Occasion our friend was almost a silent spectator ; for though he was in the habit of mingling with such company, and always met with a hearty welcome from them, he seemed to possess a degree of control over them that prevented their ever using any freedom with him, further perhaps than soliciting his advice or assistance in cases of difficulty. Accordingly, he sat as usual quietly sipping his very moderate beverage, a twopenny bottle of small ale, and probably engaged, either in composing the cantata now quoted, or in collecting material for it in the motley assemblage before him, when a young man entered the apartment. This new comer had a pack on his back, which he unslung from his shoulders, and, making use of it as a seat, sat quietly down by the fire, apparently anxious to avoid observation. His countenance, which was naturally of a lively expression, wore at present a pensive air, and he buried his head in his hands, or sat gazing abstractedly in the fire, without casting a glance at, or exchanging a word with, any of those around him. This person had entered while the nailer's song was being sung, and the indefatigable chanter of that mellifluous strain, appar- ently either offended at the slight put upon his effusion, or struck with the unusual gloom which hung over the young packman, accosted him, so soon as he had concluded the song, with " Peter, laddie, whaur hae ye come frae the night sae late and sae eerie ? ye look as ye had seen either a ghaist or a war- lock." "I hae seen," answered the lad, "what wad gaur even a fouter like you think an' feel, and ding sic senseless daffin' frae your wairdless pate. Mony a long stair hae I paidled up and down this blessed day, and far hae I gaen for little siller, yet, little as that was, I blythely parted wi' the last penny o't to 212 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. relieve the wants of the puir, needy, deeing creature, whase bedside I hae been sitting by for the last five hours." " They maun hae been needy, indeed, wha wrung onything frae sic a greedy creature as you, Patie. I'm glad, callant, to see that you are no a'thegither lost, for I thought that greed had fairly gotten atween you an' your wits : however, better mend late than never ; so here's a wee drappie to encourage ye in weel-doing. Toom out that," said he, handing to the Pedlar a wooden queach or bicker, with scarcely as much liquor as covered the bottom. " An' what case can this hae been, Patie, my man ? " said the Gaberlunzie, who being placed in an out-of-the-way corner or nook of the apartment, had not before been observed by Peter. " Alack ! alack ! " said Peter, hurrying towards him, " this is a case needing your aid ; and when was ever the ear o' the Gaberlunzie steekit to the cry o' distress ; and when or whaur did ever suffering or woe come under his ken, but he tried to lighten them ? Ah ! " said he, setting down untasted the nailer's beverage, " gin ye'll come wi' me e'enow, late or early as it is, I'll lead ye whaur ye'll see twa o' the most helpless o' God's creatures, A puir fiddler in a fever, and a witless lassie watching night and day, e'en an' morning, sleepin' an' wakin', soothing him asleep wi' snatches o' sangs, and when he sleeps, whispering laighly into his ear fragments o' hymns that are liker the breathings o' haly angels than the imperfect thoughts o' a puir feckless creature. Then she ca's him her protector, her guide, her father, and then she looks up an' says, ' Father, my father is in heaven.' " "And where are these poor people to be found, Peter?" eagerly inquired the Gaberlunzie, much excited, and manifesting a keen and immediate interest in the matter, which Peter was not prepared for ; " do none of their neighbours administer to their necessities? Have you left them alone, and without assistance ? " "Alack!" answered Peter, "they are staying wi' a puir widow, wha is slowly recovering frae the same bad fever; and though there's scores o' families in the same stair, no ane e'er enters their door to spier anent them. Their only assistance is the widow's daughter, a wean atween twal an' fourteen years o' age, wha has the wisdom o' an auld woman an' the lightness o' THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 213 a wee fairy. Come awa, an' ye'll see a scene o' suffering that will wauken your pity, an 7 marks o' affection that will melt your heart within ye. Come awa wi' me ; the gray daylight's beginning to break through the chinks o' the dark closes, and after the midnight hour is past, as is often the case, aiblins the puir sufferer may hae gotten a turn." " Lead on, then, Peter," said the Gaberlunzie, shouldering his wallet and staff; " we'll see gin we can be o' ony use to these puir bodies." 2i 4 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. CHAPTER IX. Beauty merits temples fair, Valour merits altars rare, Patience merits princely domes, xrtacxmte*. Beauty conquers with a glance, Valour conquers with a lance, Patience gathers gold from tomes, Beauty's eyes may light the world, Valour's flag may flaunt unfurl'd, Patience dwells in humble homes, gj.e ilmt tlwliz obtuomtz. The Gaberlumie. > LOSING behind them the door of the low howff, and ascending the steep Bow-way, the Gaber- lunzie and his guide felt invigorated by the pure morning breeze that fanned their cheeks; and their hearts glowed within them, as if touched by the balmy spirit of that deep quietude that solemn repose which, at this early hour, hovered over the slumbering city. As they reached the High Street the great bell of St Giles struck three ; the hour was repeated by the adjoining clocks, and again by numerous chimes of lesser power in different quarters of the town. It was a sum- mer morning ; the weather for some time had been very sultry, and a dense mist from the sea, which had lain heavily on the city during the whole of the preceding evening and night, now began to retreat before the blush of early morn although, as THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 215 if loath to depart, it still hung like a silvery shroud around the tall buildings forming this picturesque locality. All of a sudden, and in an incredibly short space of time, the mist rose in waving wreaths, and anon assumed the appearance of a half- rolled up curtain, discovering the under features of the cloud- capt edifices which it had hitherto concealed. In the far east, as seen in the distant perspective of the Ganongate, and over the top of ancient Holyrood, a long thin streak of pale light stretched along the whole line of the horizon, the centre elevated into an arch, and enriched in colours by the rays of the rising sun, which began to shed a halo of glory over the whole scene. The sea in the expansive and winding bay of Aberlady had caught a stray sunbeam, and kept it struggling in its trembling bosom, while one solitary ray had perchedx>n and lighted up a point on the weather-vane of old St Giles. There were at this early hour few indications of anything like life to be met with in the streets. Some dingy sparrows chirruping on the sills of the windows, or hopping on the pavement, were busy picking up the almost imperceptible crumbs which constituted their morning's repast ; or here and there a half-starved cur was disputing a bone with some needy pale-faced child of want, whom hunger had sent forth in search of food. Perchance, also, the eye might detect a squalid wretch, half-hidden beneath a dark doorway, sick at heart, and vainly attempting to assume the appearance of merriment or gaiety. There might likewise be seen emerging from some low tippling- house, whence gleamed an ominous dull red light, a fiery-faced toper, leaning on the arm of a drunken companion, who seemed himself to require the aid he was so ineffectually attempting to afford his neighbour. Probably, also, a stray bacchanalian, who had been found lying insensible in the gutter, was being conveyed in a barrow to the guard-house, by two of the sturdy and trusty city guardsmen, who, bearing their burden of inert matter, accompanied every step they trudged with a- profusion of unintelligible Gaelic oaths. As our friends the Gaberlunzie and Pedlar passed the Old Jail, or Heart of Midlothian, as it was more poetically called, a tall, thin, narrow tenement, which then stood in the middle of the High Street, pale faces, half in shadow, were dimly seen pressing against the grated windows, and pale hands grasping the iron bars of the house of bondage, while some trifling and 216 THE GABERLUNZIE S WALLET. faintly whispered question gave evidence that within were many weary and sleepless watchers for the morning light. The sen- tinel at the door, who had been drooping and dozing on his post, startled by the sound of approaching footsteps, suddenly shot himself up into an erect position, and replied, in a short and characteristic grunt, to the morning salutation of the Gaberlunzie. Our friends passed on through the Kraims, a narrow passage between the jail and the church of St Giles, then occupied by small shops or booths, when the Gaberlunzie, recollecting how near he was to the residence of my uncle, stood still, irresolute for a moment, considering whether it might not be advisable to knock him up, and take him along with them. He felt pretty confident that the poor fiddler was the identical organist for whom they had been so long and anxiously seeking; and he was, moreover, desirous to communicate to his friend the earliest intelligence of the success of his mission. A moment's reflection on the uncertainty of this success, how- ever, added to Peter's impatience, induced him to abandon the idea of disturbing the Parliament Square at that unseasonable hour, and he tacitly followed his guide, who seemed anxious that not a moment should be lost in reaching their place of destination. Just as they had cleared the narrow lane, and had come within sight of the Cross Well, a little barefooted girl came running out of a dark-browed close with a jug in her hand, which she proceeded in great haste to fill with water from the well. So far as could be seen in the imperfect light of the morning, she seemed very beautiful. Long tresses of jet-black hair floated adown her back, and covered her shoulders. Her small feet, as she tripped over the cold gray flagstones, seemed unfitted for such rude exposure, and she tottered and stumbled as if -suffering pain. It was evident at a glance that Nature had formed her in her finest mould, and of her most fragile material, and that she was but ill adapted to perform the rough duties of humble life. Although her clothing was mean, and miserably scanty, yet her whole appearance was clean and neat. Her raven tresses floating on her neck and around her face, heightened the glow on her rose-coloured cheeks; while her thin and imperfect covering served to reveal at a glance the symmetry of her form. The impression which the appearance of this fair little THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 217 creature made on the Gaberlunzie, will be best seen in the following effusion, which seems to have been its result : THE WEE RAGGIT LASSIE. WEE, genty, timid, bashfu' wean, Tott, totting through the street thy lane, Like sunny keeks through cluds o' rain ; Thy face sae fair, Peeps sweetly through thy clustering train O' raven hair ! Thy wee bit neck and bosom bare, Though tussled by the cauld raw air, Are pearly pure and lily fair, As snaw flakes fa'in'; An' thy wee cheeks glow like a pair O' roses blawin' ! Thy form light as a fairy fay, Thy facy sweet as flowery May, Thine ee like dawn o' infant day Waukin the east, Till light an' lustre sparkle gay In every breast ! Tho' sma j thy mak an' scrimp thy deeding, Tho' bleak thy hame and puir thy feeding, Tho' scant thy lair an' laigh thy breeding, Still we can see Sweet Beauty a' the graces leading Captive to thee ! Yet beauty's e'en a doubtfu' gift, Wi' mickle show, but little thrift ; Wi' it the rich may mak a shift To lead the fashion, While humble beauty's cast adrift On human passion ! 218 THE GABERLUNZI&S WALLET. man ! why wilt thou seek thy bane, An' barter happiness for pain ? Why cast on beauty's flower a stain That gaurs it wither? 1 trow the heart gets little gain That breaks anither ! Alack ! puir wean, thy fate I fear, Thy morning sky's e'en cauld an drear ; Dark poortith hovers in the rear, Wi' boding scowl ; An' how can sic as thou win clear O' faes sae foul ? Auld beldame Fortune, would I kenn'd her ! I wadna, wee thing, let thee wander Wi' thy sma' limbs, sae slim an' slender, Exposed an' bare ; And thy wee feet, sae jimp an' tender, A' dinlin' sair ! Hail, holy Nature ! thou whase power Hast gi'en her beauty for her dower j O tend wi' care this tender flower That springs frae thee ; And rear her safe in Virtue's bower, Aneath thine ee ! The fair creature to whom these verses refer was apparently about twelve years of age a period when the frankness of childhood is about to be exchanged for the retiring modesty of the maiden. She had filled her pitcher as the Gaberlunzie and Pedlar approached, and was gliding away like a noiseless spirit into the gloom of the dark archway whence she had issued, when, glancing round, with that timid look which chil- dren often cast behind them, to ascertain whether they are observed or followed, she recognised the Pedlar. On perceiv- ing him she came running forward, dropped a low courtesy, and looking him smilingly in the face, said, " Ah ! ye hae come back; that's sae kind; come away, they'll a' be sae blythe to see ye ; the auld man has just waukened up, and's THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 219 crying for water, water, and I hae come out as mither bade rne, for a wee drap o' caller water frae the Cross Well ; it's aye sae cauld in simmer, and my mither says there maybe a blessing in't." " That's a kind, dear wee dawtie," said Peter, clapping her on the head, " I'll be awn ye a bawbee for that some day, when I'm rich. Are ye no feared to come out at this time o 7 the mornin' your lane ? Are ye no fleyed for ghaists ? " "Na, na," said the little girl, "my grannie whiles cracks awa about bogles in her auld warld stories, and raves about them in her auld gruesome croons ; but my mither tells me there's naething waur than oursePs in this world, and that the Gude Spirits will tak care o' me gin I be gude mysel' ; sae ye see I cam out at her biddin, for she's no able to steer frae her bed since she had the fever, or she wad hae come to the well herselV' The Gaberlunzie, who had stood gazing on this being with feelings of the most intense interest, and had listened to her remarks as if they had been uttered by a voice from Heaven, wiped away a tear which gathered in his eye, turned half-round to Peter, and exclaimed, " What an angel ! What a lesson does this juvenile apostle read us ! Here you perceive her pure mind has rejected the absurd stories with which her grandmother's imagination teems, while it cherishes a belief in the lovely beings so like herself, which her mother with more wisdom has held up to her fancy's contemplation. Would that such principles were generally acted upon ; that virtue were held up before our eyes, and vice allowed to remain shrouded in its own infamous obscurity. Show youth the beauty of virtue, and it will fly with horror from vice. As the auld cock craws, sae the young cock learns, Aye tak ye care what ye do afore bairns ; Their heads are muckle, though their limbs are wee, An' O ! the wee totts are gleg in the ee : Then dinna fright your laddie wi' the "black boo " man, But let him douk his lugs in his wee parritch pan ; Lay ye his rosy cheek upon your mou a wee, How the rogue will laugh when his minny's in his ee. 220 THE GABERLUNZIE S WALLET. As the auld cock craws, sae the young cock learns, Aye tak ye care what ye do afore bairns ; Though vice may be muckle, and virtue may be wee, Yet a sma speck o' light will woo the dullest ee : Then dinna fright us wi' the muckle black deil, Show us mercy's bonnie face, an' teach us to feel ; Though we think like men, we should feel like bairns, As the auld cock craws, sae the young cock learns. The pure being, who seemed an impersonation of the moral in its best application inculcated in the old proverb, which forms the text or burden of these verses, stood listening to the Gaberlunzie with much attention and admiration. But the moment he had ceased, the tear started in her eye ; and, as if chiding herself for her delay, she tripped away into the shaded entry like a thing of light, seeming to throw a radiance around her on the dark wynd, which looked still darker and dingier when she had disappeared within its sinister depths. The Gaberlunzie and Pedlar followed their young guide through the deep round archway formed by the junction, and extended through the breadth of the two tall front tenements. They then crossed a small paved square court, lighted from the top; but so closely wedged together were the immense houses bounding the four sides of this area, that the speck of sky overhead looked not larger than a common toplight or cupola ; while persons with arms of ordinary length might have readily shaken hands from the windows on either side. Our two friends now descended another archway similar to the first, a little below the bottom of which, encasing a narrow turnpike stair, projected a fine bold tower, forming a very striking and attractive central point to the picture, and contracting the strait alley to one-half its originally narrow dimensions. To- THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 221 wards this turnpike they directed their steps, and had climbed nearly to the top of the spiral stair, when their attention was arrested by the sound of a voice chanting a melody in a very low and subdued tone. The voice was so sweet, and the air so soothing, that they involuntarily paused, and remained listening. The little girl was the first to break the silence, " Puir Phemie," she said, " is singing the auld man asleep again, wi' ane o' her sweet sangs ; we maunna gang in till he's dovered ower, or we'll maybe scaur her. Ah ! had it no been for her kindness at the time my mither lay sae lang senseless, we couldna hae gotten through ; and he wha next to God was our protector, gaed out ae night a' shivering an' shakin' wi' the fever in his banes, to play at a grand ball, for the purpose o' gettin' twa-three shillings to buy meat till us, and cam hame in a burnin' fever, raving an' mad. Yet it was God wha sent him to help us, and my mither says He winna let our kind freend die. Follow me," continued she, gently ascending the attic stair. With hushed breaths and suppressed emotion they did follow, and heard distinctly the following chant : The fairy sprites are blowing Their horns in the grassy dell, Their melody is flowing A thousand echoes swell. The tiny elves are crying, Their dewy tears are lying On the wounded floweret dying ; Hark ! to the ding-dong bell. O sweetly bloom'd the flower In the merry month of May, And 'neath June's leafy bower Its heart beat warm and gay ; But while it lay asleeping, Cold winter's blast came sweeping, And the floweret fell aweeping, Then fading, waned away. The voice of the singer having gradually fallen, a perfect stillness succeeded. The little girl now stole into the house, the door of which she had considerately left open, lest the opening and shutting it on her return should disturb the 222 THE GABERLUNZI&S WALLET. sufferer, and, looking around her with anxious gaze, set down the jug of water on a chair which seemed to serve for a table she then slipped to a bed that stood in a dark corner of the apartment, arranged the bedclothes, and, returning again to the door, waved her little hand as a signal to the visitors to enter. They did so, walking on tiptoe, and found a scene well calculated to excite their interest, and draw tears of pity from their eyes. The apartment in which they stood seemed to be the kitchen ; an old woman sat on a low stool by the hearth, shivering with cold, although it was summer, and warming her shrivelled hands over the dying embers ; her head lay forward in her lap, and as she groped on either side of the grate, appa- rently for her tobacco-pipe, her face was almost close to the fire, and her body closely folded together. Although she neither moved her body, nor turned round her head as the party came in, she was evidently aware that there were strangers in the room ; for while they still stood in the centre of the floor, uncertain what they should do next, and somewhat oppressed with a feeling of awe, she turned her head to one side, as if listening. The child observing this, stepped lightly forward to her, and whispered a single word in her ear. In- stantly she raised her head, and drawing her flannel cap and hood oifaiky over her shoulders, she murmured, " Ay, ay, bairn, ye may tak them ben, but they might as weel expect to mak me young again as him hale. He's fairly worn-out; he canna last lang. The dead struggle may be dreigh, but it canna last for ever. What will come o' that puir lassie wha tends him ? To think o't wad break the heart o' a stane, let alane that o' auld Katie Gray. Pass on, pass on,'' she continued, while a flood of tears rolled down her aged cheeks, and a paroxysm of emotion almost choked her utterance ; " pass on," she continued, and her voice faltered still more ; " pass on, and see the end o't. There will be a streaking here ere morning. I thought langsyne, when my auld gudeman died, that the next after him wad hae been my ain ; but oh on ! ohon ! I hae seen twa-three auld rotten trunks and young green saplings struck down since then ; and our ain kind, merry, gude auld friend, to whase fiddlin' my ae laddie was wont to dance sae lightly, has come to die aside me, and be sweeled by my baney fingers. Alackaday ! and what will become o' that puir lassie? I hae seen mony kind hearts MORNING VISIT The aparttnenL ?>/, ivkichstkcy now stood, seem&L to ~be ths. latcJisrL; an-' oldsTvaman satorLcuLow stool ly the* Twarth^skh'enng with, wldLolthuiLgfa it"was .swnmer.'warn'dng Tier .ihrweJLed. TianaLs aver the dying embers. THE GABERLUNZIE S WALLET. 223 drowned in floods o' affection, but ne'er saw a creature tak on wi' grief like her. Ohon ! ohon ! " and she sunk forward into her old position, and again began to grope about for her tobacco-pipe. Somewhat awestruck by this sepulchral and ill-boding ad- dress, the visitors passed through a narrow passage to an inner apartment, still beckoned on and preceded by their little guide. In the room which they now entered there was a small window facing the east, partially shaded by a green kerchief, that hung over it in place of a curtain. A pale stream of the morning light struggling in showed them distinctly every corner of the apartment. A glance served to convince them, that although one of poortith's bleak abodes, the room was remarkably tidy, in so far as that desirable concomitant of comfort could be expected to be associated with extreme poverty. The furniture was mean in the extreme. There were three chairs, two of which, wanting the backs, bore evident marks of having seen better days. Their old stuffed bottoms had been removed or worn out, and the boards by which they had been replaced were scrubbed very white, although they looked out of keeping with the black oaken frames in which they were set. A little circular table, with twisted legs, and deep, heavy-frame work, well burnished up, and having its youth renewed by repeated cosmetical applications, occupied the centre of the room; while in the corner stood an old-fashioned cupboard, open in front, with curiously curved shelves, which, alas ! could no longer boast a bright parade of china. A small, rudely-carved bust of the Virgin adorned the top of this cupboard; and, above the fireplace, on the same side of the room, hung an old smoked print of the Taking down from the Cross. These, along with other little articles which lay scattered about, were tokens to the Gaberlunzie that some of the inmates of the house were Catholics, a sect whose veneration for such relics prevents them from parting with them even in their greatest extremity. The insignia of the musician's craft hung suspended in a corner of the apartment, while attached to the handle of the violin was a circular bouquet of yellow flowers, the centre of the wreath studded with a cross of dark blue violets. All this gave additional strength to the belief which the Gaberlunzie had so unaccountably entertained, that he was now in the right way to ascertain the fate of the Hepburn certificate, and that the 224 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. poor sufferer, to whose aid he had now come, was the identical organist of the Catholic chapel. In an old-fashioned, low-stocked bed, which was thrust into a recess formed by the slope of the attic ceiling, lay the musician himself asleep ; while over him bent the form of the being who nursed him, and whose every thought and feeling seemed absorbed in administering to his necessities. This was the same person who had sung the melody which so charmed them while they remained in the stair. A little dog, who seemed aware of the friendly feeling that had brought the visitors, as well as of the necessity for quietness, came creeping forth from under one of the chairs, and wagged its tail at Peter, as if delighted at seeing him. Poor Feckless Phemie for it was that interesting being who hung over the couch of the suffering musician slowly assumed an upright position, and, stretching forth her hands in a supplicating attitude, chanted in a low but distinctly audible tone the following song : OFTLY sleeps he, wake him not, Broken hearts wail wearily ; Care and trouble both forgot, Grief lies dreaming cheerily : With a heigh ho, the wind will blow, Through the leafless forest drearily ! Time may come with balmy breath, Nature's sorrows healing ; Gentle love may keep cold death From the humble sheiling : With a heigh ho, the wind will blow, Flowery odour stealing ! Ere the chant was completed, and while the Gaberlunzie and Peter stood motionless by the singer, the poor sufferer, who had only been in one of those heavy-breathing, half THE GABERLUNZIE S WALLET. 225 slumbers, which generally accompany severe illness, awoke, and, with an almost supernatural effort, raised himself in the bed. With strained eyes he gazed into the partial obscurity in which the visitors were shrouded, when the Gaberlunzie, who had hitherto stood behind, stepped forward and carefully scanned the pale countenance of the emaciated being before him. Every line and lineament, making due allowances for the ravages of time and illness, were precisely the same in character with those of the man he sought. Satisfied of this, and unable longer to restrain his feelings, he exclaimed, " It is indeed my old friend the organist ! " and he bent over the sufferer with all his keenest sensibilities awakened, and his face suffused with tears. The moment these words were uttered by the Gaberlunzie, the poor patient, who had been hitherto gazing in his face with a half unconscious expression, seemed at once restored to the full possession of his faculties, and, as he eagerly grasped the friendly hand which was proffered him, exclaimed in faltering accents, u Thank God, thank God, my deliverer hath come at last ! " Then, as if his malady had returned in all its force, and some horrible vision had presented itself to his troubled sight, he turned away his face, stretched out both his hands in a supplicating attitude, and, with averted looks, screamed out in an unnaturally clear, strong, and loud voice, " Fire, fire ! horror, save me, save me ! I am innocent ; indeed I am. Save me ; oh ! save me ! " Then, as if nature could no longer sustain so violent an effort, he fell back ex- hausted ; and it was some time before they were aware, from his returning pulsation, and his low, scarcely perceptible breathing, that he was still in the land of the living and in the place of hope. A long and protracted illness succeeded this temporary fit of excitement, and, for many days and nights, the Gaberlunzie and Phemie sat watching every movement, and administering to every want of the poor sufferer, their mutual tears often fall- ing together, and bedewing his thin and emaciated hands, which he held out to them as signs of recognition and grati- tude, when unable to utter a syllable. The house was indeed a house of woe ; and the Gaberlunzie, during his attendance on this sickbed, often experienced a heartfelt conviction of the truth so beautifully inculcated in Scripture, " That it is better to go to the house of mourning than the house of feasting." 226 THE GABERLUNZIE S WALLET. The little girl who had conducted the Gaberlunzie and Peter to this abode of sickness, and suffering, and want, was the only member of the household (with the exception of her aged grandmother, now in her second childhood, and unfit for any exertion) who had escaped the dreadful malady, and it was to her exertions, young as she was, that they were chiefly indebted for support during their illness. The mother lay in a bed in the far corner of the kitchen, so weak from disease and want of proper nourishment that she was unfit to move. The fever had now indeed left her ; some of the good, kind- hearted physicians, with which Edinburgh has always abounded, having attended her during her illness, and administered to her necessities. But poverty like hers is not clamorous, and charity is apt to slumber when not kept awake by solicitation. Thus had she been left latterly entirely dependent for support on what her little daughter earned at the humble occupation of knitting stockings, an employment at which Phemie, when in her calm mood, frequently lent her assistance. Often, indeed, the two continued at work during the whole night \ and bright was the flush on the cheek of the child when she returned home from the hosier's shop of a morning with a whole shilling, to be divided and subdivided as the various wants of the inmates demanded. The Gaberlunzie came in good time, like a minister of mercy, to render assistance to this sorely afflicted family, and he was not long among them till he became convinced of their genuine worth and virtue. The mistress of the house, who now lay in a convalescent state, was a widow, whose husband had been an intelligent tradesman, and had died leaving her with this one child, and an aged mother to provide for. That feeling of independence which is often the only patrimony an honest artizan has to bequeath to his family was religiously cherished, and the rule of conduct it dictated strictly adhered to by the widow, who held, as well she might, her husband's memory in high veneration. With this feeling the Gaberlunzie cordially sympathized, when one day, shortly after his arrival here, the little girl with a blush on her cheek brought to him carefully folded up, but exhibiting traces of having been much read and blurred in many places with tears, the following poem, with which she said her father had presented her when on his death- bed, and which her mother often cried over for hours at night when she thought she was asleep : THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 227 A FATHER TO HIS FIRST BORN. COME to my arms, my sweet wee hinny, Fair image o' thine angel minny, Bright picture o' thy sainted granny, To a' sae dear ; I gaze upon thy face, an' canna But drap a tear. Thy dimpled chin, thy rosy mou, The thought that lines thy lang deep brow, Thy dark blue een glint glintin' through Thy father's heart ; Thou'rt my fond mither, form'd anew In every part. Thus Fancy like a seraph sings, And softly sweeps my harp's rude strings ; Whilst busy Memory fondly clings To every tone, And from the heart's recesses brings Scenes long since gone. Then Memory, poised on Fancy's wing, Sends the lone mind a wandering ; And as amid the flowers of Spring The snow-flake falls, So this young balmy breathing thing The past recalls. First pledge of love, pure bud of bliss, Young gem of light and loveliness, Ae rosy smile, ae balmy kiss Frae thy wee mou, Floods a' my bosom's deep recess Wi' bliss brim fou ! 228 THE GABERLUNZI&S WALLET. Whilk o' us in our merriest glee Can bask 'mid cludless skies like thee ; The dark rims o' thy sparkling ee In glory glancing, An 7 thy wee limbs, a' bounding free, In rapture dancing ? Thy mither wails the crumpled lace ; While I maist smoor thy sweet wee face, An' kiss, an' keek, and fondly trace Wi' parent's ee, The blushing bloom an' witching grace That dawns in thee. Thy speaking een are thrang revealing Wee glinting keeks o' human feeling ; An' thoughts are through thy bosom stealing In infant play, God knows may set thy heart a thrilling Some future day. Yet O ! it's harsh to bode an' snarl, An' croak anent this queer auld warl', Whaur some get thorns, an' some get laurel, An' some get gear, An' some slip through without a quarrel, Or yet a tear ; But there are floods o' joy an' pleasure, Mair dear than life, mair rich than treasure, Flows through the heart ; wha's strang embrasure Hauds a' as brithers, An' taks itsel' the self-same measure It metes to ithers. What pangs thrill through my throbbing heart When thou gi'es an uncanny start ; For gudesake, dinna greet ! the smart O' cauld steel wound Is naething to the piercing dart O' that shrill sound. THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 229 Thy minnie's startled looks that yearn To ken what ails her sweet wee bairn, What wylie ways she has to learn To hush thy fears ; Nae mother's heart, though hard as aim, Stands infant's tears. Through a' the sunny daylight hours, While nursing a' thy opening flowers, She bigs thee mony flickered bowers A' glistening green, That wyle awa the watery showers Frae thy wee een : She tends thee through the lang dark nights Wi' mony kindly feints an' sleights ; Her een wauk up like starry lights Gin thou but sigh, Syne wi' a hush she lays thy frights, An 7 stills thy cry. There snugly nestling in her breast, Thou cuddles in thy cozy nest ; When thou art to her bosom prest, Heaven's eye may see An image o' its haly rest In her an' thee. What hopes an' fears, what joys an' woes, What happy thoughts, what anxious throes, Throughout a mother's bosom glows Through the long eves, While watching thus her infant rose Unfauld its leaves ! Hail ! heavenly Love, thy golden chain, That link by link unites the twain, Maks sma' the toil, an' great the gain She has to earn, While nursing thus wi' heart fou fain Her bonny bairn. 230 THE GABERLUNZIE S WALLET. Bloom on, sweet babe ! Time steals away ; The langest life is but a day ; An' gin thy father, doom'd to gae, Leaves her alane, Wilt thou thy mither's love repay Wi' love again ? " Well," said the Gaberlunzie, clapping the child on the head, after having perused this poem; "well, my little love, I trust you will be spared (here a tear glistened on his cheek, which he wiped unseen away) to fulfil your worthy father's wishes and predictions.'' " Ay, sir," said the girl, " and to follow his example ; that, my mother says, was far better." " Do you recollect your father?" inquired the Gaberlunzie. " Ay," she replied, " I mind o' him weel, when he used to come in frae his wark, and tak me on his knee, and learn me my hymns, and psalms, and sangs. He was a millwright, and wrought at the mills o' the Water o' Leith, and we lived in a bonnie wee housie doun by the water side, wi' a yard afore the door, an' keepit hens and ducks ; and I had a wee pet lammie, and my faither put up a bonnie green pailing afore the door, and a wooden bench facin' the sun for my grannie, puir body ; and his greatest joy was to see her sittin' beakin' hersel' in the sun, or doddling me on her knee. It was unco cruel, I aye think, o' the laird to turn us out o' that bonnie housie after my faither died, and force us to come into this muckle black toun to stay, whaur we ne'er get a blink o' the clear water an' the green yird. But my mither says it was but just the man should hae his ain, and when we couldna pay the rent o't we had nae right to stay in't." The Gaberlunzie felt his throat swelling with indignation at the hard, though perhaps not unjust, measure that had been dealt the widow and her child ; but suppressing his emotion, and learning patience from the delightful homily which had been read to him, he only said " And is it long since your father died ? " " About four year syne," said the little girl ; and here her eyes were for a moment obscured by tears, which she hastily wiped away, and proceeded : " I mind weel o' that time, and will mind it lang. There were a great heap o' neighbours in THE GABERLUNZIE S WALLET. 231 the house. My faither had gottin a hurt at his wark, and was very weak; my mother sat in the back o' the bed haudin' him up, for he langed for light and air. He stretched out his lang white hand ower the bed, and clappit my head, and tald me to be gude to my mither, and then asked me to say, "The hour o' my departure's come j " and when I had said the hymn through, he fell back into my mither's arms. The folk rushed to the bed, and I didna ken what was the matter, till some o' the neighbours took me up and kissed me, and ca'd me a faitherless wean, and then I kenned my faither was dead. He was ta'en awa to the burial hole, and I gat a wee black frock and bannet, and my mither aften took me till his grave, till ae day when we gaed we saw't howkit up to mak room for some ither puir bodie, and my mither ne'er could find heart to gang- back since." "Ay," said the Gaberlunzie, "and your grandmother, did she not stop with you at the time your father died ; and how did she behave on that trying occasion ? " " Ah ! that was indeed a trying time for her, an' the first time e'er a tear had been seen to gather in her ee. When the lave rushed to the bed, she raise frae the laigh seat by the fire, whaur she had been sittin', an' opened the window to allow, as she said, ' the spirit o' her laddie to pass into glory.' She stood gazing into the air for a lang time without speakin' a word ; then she began to sob and sigh in the same way ye saw her when ye came in here first ; then she fell back into the arms o' twa kin^ neighbours wha were by, striving to comfort her, and the hale house thought she had followed my faither, until, in a short time, as if gifted wi' new life, she sprang up, and totter- ing to the bed, fell ower the dead body, an' grat like a wean." u Poor woman," said the Gaberlunzie, " she would feel she had lost her prop and stay, and that all creation was now a blank to her. Your father has been a kind son, and you must follow his example in this, as in other parts of his conduct, which you say your mother has recommended for your imita- tion. A man with such strong affections as your father must have loved his mother dearly." "Ay, sir," replied the child, "here is a poem he had made on her when he was young, that my grannie used to carry in her bosom, and still thinks she has it there ; but for fear it should be lost I took it frae her, slipped anither bit paper in its stead, 2 3 2 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. whilk just does as weel, as she canna see now, and has it a' on her memory ; so ye can tak a glance at it, gin ye please, sir." A SONG TO HIS MOTHER. INE ain wee mensem', mindfu' minny, Sae couthy, kindly, cosh, an' canny ; Just sit ye still a wee, an' dinna Tent your ain callant, Until he sketch your picture in a Wee hamely ballant. There sit ye on the creepy stool, Weel clad wi' flannel-coat and cowl ; While simmering by the chumley j owl Sits your teapatty, And at your feet wi' kindly yowl, Whurrs your wee catty. The bluid in your auld veins is thin, Sair shrivell'd now's your ance plump skin ; Close to the ribs ye hirsel in Wi' clochrin' whaizle, Till in your cutty pipe ye fin* A red-het aizle. When sunny simmer comes wi' flowers, On the door-stap thou sits for hours, An' ilka birdie round thee cowers, Cock, hen, an' chickens, While wi' an open hand thou showers Them walth o' pickens. An' tho' ye now are auld an' doited, Your back sair bow'd, your pace sair toyted, Langsyne to ilka ploy invited, Your queenly air. Made a' your neighbour dames sair spited At tryst or fair. THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 233 On Sunday, when the kirk bell's jow Set lika haly heart alowe, To the auld kirk ye wont to row, Toddlin' wi' me, Aye welcomed by the Elder's bow, An 7 Pastor's ee. Thou'st been to me my mair than mither, Faith er and mither baith thegither ; In days o' dearth thou didna swither To scrimp thy coggie, To schule an' deed as weel's anither, Thy wee wild roguie. While manhood's vigour nerves my arm, While in my breast life's blood flows warm, Frae ilka danger, skaith, or harm I'll keep thee free, Till death shall break the mystic charm An' close thine ee ! Strong as is the pride and glory of the forest, the knotted oak, with its heart full of spring blood and its boughs laden with life-leaves, the blast that sweeps through the valley rends it up by the roots and lays it prostrate, while the old, stunted, and withered thorn is left to shake and shiver in the breeze. So had the rude spoiler death swept away the pride and glory of the household in his towering strength ; while the poor, aged parent, whom he had vowed to guard from every want and woe, till death had closed her eyes, was left to weep for the loss of her beloved son, and to mourn over his memory. Poor fellow ! sinewy-armed, strong-hearted, and nobly resolved though thou wert, thou wert smitten down in the prime of life, in the full vigour of manhood ! The family altar is laid prostrate ; the hearts of thy mother, wife, and child, are weary and desolate. Thou, their father, priest, and king, hast been removed from the government of thine own little kingdom, and art now a loyal subject in the realms of thy Heavenly King and Father ; yet still thy worshippers continue to worship thy memory with pious veneration ; and perhaps it might have been for the pur- pose of transferring their affection from earth to heaven that thou 234 THE GABERLUNZIE' S WALLET. wertthus removed thither before them. Peace to thy manes! thy poverty was of the earth thy riches are in heaven. Let no one attempt to undervalue the usefulness of intel- lectual acquirements to the working-classes, more especially when such acquirements are combined with industrious habits and sound moral principle. ' The humble author of the pre- ceding poems, who had been unexpectedly and prematurely snatched away from his wife and child, and had left them little more than the pride of honesty, and a few such outpourings of affection as those just quoted, had given them a more glorious patrimony than silver and gold. He had left behind him an honest name, and his widow would have died sooner than have seen a blot on such a noble escutcheon. Hence, although her limited means compelled her to reside in a crowded stair, she kept herself aloof from her neighbours, knowing well the dangers to which youth and beauty are exposed in a city, especially in those crowded districts where poverty and vice have taken up their abode. So great was her care for her child, and so anxi- ous was she to maintain that delicacy of feeling and sentiment which she well knew forms the fairest feature of the female character, that, even in the depths of her distress, she charged her daughter never either to make application for aid to any one, or to ask any money from the hosier in the Luckenbooths who employed them, unless it was in return for work done. Such instances of self-denial are by no means so uncommon as are supposed; and those who have been in the habit of searching for objects of charity, will acknowledge with the Gaberlunzie, that "decent pride can ill stoop to beg; and that mony a desolate widow wad rather dee o' want than let the warld ken her necessities." Having been anxious to keep this little episode of virtuous poverty entire, I owe my readers an apology for omitting to mention, in its proper place, that at an early hour of the morning on which the Gaberlunzie and Pedlar visited this house of woe, the former despatched the latter for a skilful physician, who, after examining the patient, reported that the fever had now taken a favourable turn, and that, if due care were taken, he had little doubt of his ultimate recovery. On the departure of the physician, the Gaberlunzie despatched Peter with a note to Laird Nairn, informing him of the success which was likely to attend his exertions. He however cautioned the Laird against THE GABERLUNZI&S WALLET. 235 allowing his impatience to prevail against his better judgment so far as to induce him to expose himself to danger by a prema- ture visit. " The fever was dangerous," he said, u and often fatal, and it would be better for the Laird to remain at home than come near a house the very air of which was contagious." He also stated, that it was not his intention to annoy the sufferer with any questions till he was thoroughly recovered. The least excitement, the physician had informed him, might have a fatal effect ; and he had determined not to quit the bedside of the poor patient until he was strong enough to leave the house along with him, when the Laird might expect a visit from himself and the organist. He likewise remarked, that there was little cause for any fear on his own account ; that he was well acquainted with suffering in all its forms and all its stages ; having been where the sword and pestilence and plague had struck down thousands around him ; that it was his firm conviction he lived for a purpose not yet accomplished ; and having implicit faith in Providence, he trusted that his life would be spared until that end was attained. Nairn loaded the messenger who brought him this welcome communication with a whole burden of provisions and cordials, and wrote the Gaberlunzie a note, stating how happy he would be to see him and the fiddler at the Mint, which he trusted they would soon be able to make their home; and, hastily dressing himself, hurried up to the Parliament Close to com- municate the agreeable tidings to his esteemed friends and con- fidential advisers, Mr and Miss Hepburn. As might have been expected, there was great joy manifested in all their honest faces on this occasion, Matty, who, after the Laird had per- used the letter again and again, read it over to herself, at last exclaiming, " Od, he's a queer carle that Gaberlunzie ; in my humble opinion, he's mair nor he lets on ; he's a kind o' King Jamie in disguise a real Gaberlunzie. When did ye e'er see a beggar write sic a hand as that ? " continued she to Nairn ; " look at the lang turns o' his 1's, and the squirls o' his b's ; he's been weel brought up, an* there's gentle blood in his veins, ye may rely on't." " Well, madam," said Nairn, " do you know the same thought struck me when I first saw this note ? Is it not very strange that both of our heads run so often together, like ponies in harness ? You have, however, I must confess, generally the start of me, and make the best leader." 236 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. " Ay," said my uncle, " but baith o' you would soon fag, gin ye hadna me to drive you ; or ye wad rin ower some brae or ither, breaking your am necks an' a' them that risket themsel's to your care." " Hoot aw a, Watty, ye're aye catchin' up folk afore they fa' ; ye dinna think that the Laird means to mak a horse o' me ? " " Na, na," said Watty, " or he wadna be lang o' finding that the gray mare was the better horse." " Indeed, Watty," retorted Matty, " ye maun neither be ower hard on us, nor ower proud o' your ain driving ; mind ye the auld byeword 1 HE RIDES SICKER WHA NEVER FA'S. " GAE buckle your belt in your ain gude gate, Gae draw your sword in your ain just cause; But sit ye steeve in your saddle seat, For he rides sicker wha never fa's. Gae gird ye in armour gleaming bright, And see that your harness be free frae flaws ; Ye may show your skill as a daring knight, But he rides sicker wha never fa's. THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 237 " Then ride ye furth to the battle plain, An' seek for fame whaur the trumpet blaws ; Ye may prove to yoursel' that match ye've nane, But he rides sicker wha never fa's. But gin ye're unhorsed by a stronger loon, An' 'mang your girthling lie heads an' thraws, Ye'll aiblins think o' the auld warld croon, That he rides sicker wha never fa's." For some weeks the Gaberlunzie continued to reside con- stantly in the sky-cradled attic, attending to the wants, and administering to the comforts, not only of the musician, but of the interesting family whose virtues and necessities he felt to have strong and urgent claims on his benevolence. Every day he discovered some new feature in the character of those around him to elicit his warmest admiration. Here he saw the truth of his favourite motto, which graces the head of this chapter, triumphantly established. Here he had an additional proof, that poverty and vice are not inseparable companions; and that although the former may at times threaten virtue with extinction, yet by long suffering and patient endurance, the virtuous mind not only overcomes temptation, but is elevated to a position from which it can look proudly down on the vain and gaudy trappings of wealth, and all its tinsel appendages. With the aid of nutritious food and careful attendance, the widow in a short time recovered sufficiently to be able to assist in administering comfort to the musician, who was soon in a state of convalescence, and gave fair promise of a speedy and entire recovery. Notwithstanding the anxiety of the Gaber- lunzie to ascertain the fate of those documents on which the claims of his protege to the Hepburn estates chiefly rested, he resolved, in accordance with the determination which he had communicated to Nairn, not to ask a single question about them until the object of his attentions should be sufficiently recovered to leave his present residence, and take advantage of Nairn's kind and hospitable invitation. It may easily be imagined, that during all this time the anxious minds of Hepburn and Nairn were fully occupied with the probable result of this matter. Many of their forenoon and evening sederunts were lengthened by prolix discussions. Many a time and oft did my uncle offer to bet his shop and all 238 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. that was in it, against Nairn's old house in the Mint, that the documents were safe, and that all was right ; the Laird as often declining the bet, with a desponding shake of the head, and a remark that he was afraid it was all wrong. "Laird," said Matty, who as usual was present and took part in the discussion, " ye maun be on the right scent. The hand o' Providence is wi' ye. This findin' o' the fiddler's like a miracle, and ye may rely on't bodes weel to the cause o' the bonnie heiress. Od, her vera look, hamely and kindly though it be, is eneugh to prove her claim in my een." "Ah!" said Nairn, "but all eyes do not look on objects in the same light. Although Nature herself, in all her moods, is beautiful, still she appears more or less so in proportion as the mind that contemplates her is more or less happy. Creatures of a day, as we are, we often manage to accommodate our principles to our feelings and wishes, believing, at the same time, that we are acting from the purest motives. Hence, there may be other parties, who may find it their interest to adopt a different opinion from you, and to resist all the claims of the person in whose welfare you are so much interested, unless they can be legally established. Law is not synonymous with equity; and if this certificate be not forthcoming, I am afraid that there will be found a link awanting in the chain of evidence, without which her claims will not only be disputed, but be entirely set aside- However, let us hope for the best. Here comes our friend's messenger, and an odd-looking creature he is. Where on earth can the Gaberlunzie have picked him up?" " Let's sift him," said Matty. As if anticipating her wishes, and as if prepared to gratify them, Peter entered with a " Gude morain' to ye a' ! gude mornin' to ye a' ! Ah ! this has been a braw mornin 1 for the craps. Yon was a fine, fat, feeding shower we had last night, and just cam in time to save the grass, that was gettin' like brass wires. Od, I'm growin' as black as a craw wi' the smoke o' this Auld Reekie o' yours, and maun be aff to the country immediately ; for my customers will be missing me sair, and I'm grown sae reisted they'll scarcely ken me again." " What part o' the country do ye generally travel in maist, my man?" inquired Matty. THE GABERLUNZIE S WALLET. 239 "Thro' a' parts, mem," replied Peter, "but my favourite spot is the Lang Whang, in the Upper Ward o' Lanarkshire. I'm best kenned, and maybe," he said smiling, "best liket there." " Ay, I daursay," said my aunt. " Ye seem to be a body wham they may safely place dependence on ; ye wad likely get acquainted wi' your freend the Gaberlunzie about that quarter ?" " Ay, mem, it was there whaur I gat acquainted wi' him, an' there whaur I gat my present wee pack, whilk, sma' though it be, cost him some bawbees to stock it. Ae night, about t\va years ago, in a snaw storm, I had lost my first pack, and had wandered 'mang wreaths o' snaw for miles, when at length I fell doun through the lum o' a farm-house ca'd Kelpie Cleugh, whaur the Gaberlunzie was sitting, an' he took pity on me, and filled my pack, or I might hae been beggin' my bread frae door to door." (Here aunt, uncle, and Nairn exchanged glances with each other, and seemed sufficiently puzzled.) " Ay, but," said my aunt, " was that no robbin' Peter to pay Paul? Hadna the Gaberlunzie begged himsel' what he gae to you?" " Na, na, mem," replied Peter, " the Gaberlunzie's nae beggar: he carries a wallet, indeed, but what's in't naebody kens ; he ne'er carries awa frae ony house either siller or skran, farther than maybe a daud o' peas-bannock to help him across the Lang Whang, whaur I wish I were again, wi' a' my heart." " Ay," remarked my aunt, " as you say, ye winna be lang o' getting your ain colour again when ye gang there. The vera heather there has a richer tint o' colour than it has here awa ; nae ferlie ye're sic a blooming body. Od ye hae a fine time o't; and ye'll be makin' bawbees too, I'll warrant ye; what do ye deal in?" " Deed, mem, just odds and ends what I can afford to keep a sma' stock o' \ and what I ken will suit the purses o' my customers. The farmers' daughters and servant lassies buy orra laces an' ribbons frae me ; and the herds and farmers' sons buy napkins an' nick-nackets. I could whiles do mair, I think, about the Martinmas and Whitsunday times," he continued, looking into one of the counter glass-cases with a significant glance, " gin I had a sma' stock o' sic articles as ye hae here, but I maun wait till I grow richer." " Do you do anything in the jewellery way?" inquired my uncle ; " you would find it to pay you, I think?" 2 4 o THE GABERLUNZIE'S WALLET. Peter's eye glistened, nay, his very mouth seemed to water, as he said, with a pawky expression of countenance, " Ah ! I wish I were able to buy a sma' stock o' gude jewellery; I wadna langer carry the pinchbeck trash I'm obliged to be doin' wi'. If I had twa or three bits o' rings an' seals, like them that ye hae in your case here, I could sell them amang the country bodies. The lads an' lasses are fond o' things o' that kind, and I think they wad sooner gie me the bawbees than anither." " I'll caution ye for that, my man," said Matty. " Ye ken how to butter a whitin' to please ony lad or lass among them, or I'm mistaken ; and gin ye speak me fair, I'll maybe persuade my brother here to credit ye wi' twa or three o' these bits o' rings an' seals, that your heart an' ee seem sae fixed on." " He shanna want that," replied Watty. " Mr Nairn tells me that ye hae a warm heart, and hae shown muckle kindness to the puir bodies our friend the Gaberlunzie's amang ; so come ye up afore ye leave the town, and I'll fill ye a wee drawer wi' trinkets that will tak the market ; and gin they dinna sell, ye can just return them." " That is very kind on your part, Walter," said Nairn, " and reminds me of what I owe this young man ; you will therefore furnish him with a few good articles of jewellery at my expense. Say not a word," he continued to Peter, who threatened to be somewhat prolix in his expressions of gratitude, " say no more, man, but tell us how your patients are to-day." " Sae weel," said Peter, " that ye may expect to see the Gaberlunzie an' fiddler the morn. Od, sic twa sib freens I never saw. They're like lad and lass, cracking awa like pea- guns a' the hours o' the day an' night ; sae quiet they are too, and still ; I canna find out what's atween them. Do you ken gin they're kith an' kin ?" " Not I," said Nairn. " Nor I," said Watty. " Nor I," said Matty. " Nor me," sighed Peter. THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 241 CHAPTER X. Guide ye the feckless, an' lead ye the lame, To a cozy seat and a couthy name ; Ye'll get a' their blessings upon^your head, An' your name shall live lang alter ye're dead ! Old Ballad. ARLY on the morning after the interview described in the latter part of last chapter, his pack enriched by the jewellery with which my uncle had furnished it, and his head elevated much higher than usual, the little Pedlar set off to the country, and the Gaberlunzie prepared to proceed to the Mint, in company with the organist or fiddler. He had made arrangements for Phemie (who entertained an unconquerable aversion to strange faces) to remain for a few days with the widow and her daughter, till the danger of infection was completely removed, when he felt assured that Aunt Matty would seek out the house, and easily insinuate herself into the good graces of the helpless and harmless daughter of sorrow and sentiment. Poor Phemie ex- hibited unequivocal evidences of deep thought and heartfelt emotion when the fiddler intimated to her his intention of leaving her for a short time. She shed, with gentle hand, the white hair that hung over his noble forehead, looked in his eyes, clasped him round the neck, and clung to him with an energy that showed how much confidence she reposed in him, and how highly she valued his kindness. Long before the hour at which the two friends were to leave the house, however, she had become calm, and had begun to employ herself in knitting stockings, holding, at the same time, a dumb but expressive conversation with the little girl, for whom she entertained the liveliest affection. Q 242 THE GABERLUNZIE S WALLET. About half-past twelve o'clock, on one of the brightest sum- mer forenoons that ever gladdened the earth, the Gaberlunzie and fiddler began to descend the long, narrow spiral stair that conducted to their attic dwelling. The musician, whom the first breath of fresh air had restored to all his wonted gaiety and spirits, compared himself to a corkscrew worming its way down the neck of a bottle. He said " he felt nothing above or below him, but just as gin he were winging his way in air like a laverock, or whomling heels ower head like a tumbler- doo." He was still very weak, and his limbs tottered under him, but he was well supported by the stalwart arm of the Gaberlunzie, who seemed to have more consideration for the life of the musician than for his own. When at last they reached the bottom of the stair, and stood fairly out in such open air as could be had in the narrow alley, the light-hearted fiddler, looking first up to the blue sky far overhead, and then gazing earnestly in the face of the Gaberlunzie, exclaimed " Hech, man ! what a glorious sight it is to see a freend's face in the light o' open day, without being fashed wi' green curtains and green glasses ! Od, I feel myseP maistly as fresh as ever I was, although this has been the warst tout I e'er mind o' having. I thought I could hae keepit up under ony trouble, but this has maistly mastered me. Human nature is frail, and there are nane o' us without our fauts and failings ; but oh ! man, the fresh air has lightened my heart uncoly. Troth, I think I could play ye a tune on my auld fiddle, if I had her ; ay, an' mak ye dance till't too ! " u Aha ! lad, ye could scarcely make me do that e'en now, I doot," said his companion ; " but come awa, an' tak care o' your feet," he continued, leading the organist down the wynd. " Hallo ! whatna stagger was that ye gied, you puir pilgarlic; the folk will be thinkin' we hae ta'en a drap ower muckle ; lean weel on me, an' we'll soon reach the Mint. Ah ! here comes my little sweetheart ! " and the little girl formerly spoken of came tripping down after them, carrying an extra shawl which her mother had sent her with to wrap round the throat of the musician. " Return your mother our best thanks, my little flower of the valley," said the Gaberlunzie ; " but in the meantime run up, like a dear, to Mr Hepburn's, jeweller, Parliament Square, present him and Miss Hepburn with my compliments, and say THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 243 that we are away to Laird Nairn's. Tell them also that I would have communicated with them sooner, but that I feared they would have insisted on sending a Sedan chair for my friend here, when I thought, if he had strength enough, he would prefer walking." The little girl instantly tripped away on her message, bound- ing like a fawn, and highly delighted at being entrusted with so important a mission, while the two friends passed down the narrow alley into the Cowgate. This portion of the city, at the time here alluded to, ranked in point of importance next to the High Street, of which, indeed, at one time it enjoyed precedence, as its many aristocratic- looking old houses, once the residences of princes, nobles, and high church dignitaries, still bear witness. These days had long gone by, however, and the mansions of the great were now occupied by a much humbler, though certainly not a less useful, class, a class who, although they could not boast of being in any way related to the families whose mottoes and shields were to be seen on the door-lintels, were yet, for the most part, highly respectable, and in many cases wealthy, al- though their wealth was not ostentatiously displayed. Some of the principal markets were then held in the Cowgate, and on the market-days it was so crowded with farmers, millers, and dealers, together with their horses and carts loaded with sacks of grain, that a stranger had great difficulty in fighting his way through it. Then there were carriers' carts loading and unload- ing, with gruff bull-dogs chained to, and grinning from under them little fat sulky men at the booking-offices country people and shop lads inquiring after packages blooming country girls, along with scores of straw-roped calves being unpacked from the tops of carts, on which, perchance, they had been conveyed for forty miles together blowzy-faced butchers bantering with the former or bargaining for the latter milk maidens on horseback, with their butter-milk barrels slinging behind them fat poultry women, selecting from sparred waggons the best of the poultry, rivalling with the noise of their tongues and the motions of their hands the screaming and fluttering of the feathered throng, these, together with the growling of the muzzled bull-dogs, the shrill notes and giggling of the lasses, blended with the deep, hollow bass voices of their travelling companions, the bawling of the 244 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. carriers and porters, the fearful shouts of the little, fat, dirty booking men, the loud laughter of the farmers, millers, and dealers, with mingled sounds of " Luckpenny," " Aries," " I'll niffer ye," " I chap ye," and many other equally intelligible and characteristic exclamations, heard in the street, or issuing from the dingy back drinking-shops, all contributed to render the Cowgate on such occasions a very stirring and not un- interesting scene. The shops in this quarter, at the period alluded to, were not occupied as they are now by furniture brokers, but chiefly by grocers, spirit merchants, and victual dealers ; and as there was no foot-pavement skirting the sides of the streets, these shops were approached by broad flagstones, which in wet days resembled bridges over swollen streams, affording places for the barefooted urchins to launch and recover their mimic wooden and paper boats, with which the flooded gutter was wont to be covered. Manufacturers of perukes, quills, corks, and other useful and ornamental commodities, occupied first and second floors ; while the three gilded balls of Lombardy might be seen swinging at a window of a third storey. Several of the Lords of Session also resided in an adjoining locality, and in the mornings made their way to the Courts by some of the back closes. They were generally arrayed in full dress ; and frequently the more epicurean among them made a circuit round by the Fishmarket, then held in a close which still bears its name. The blooming countenances, athletic forms, and picturesque dresses of the Newhaven fisherwomen, contrasted strikingly with the sage faces, powdered wigs, and dignified figures of the learned functionaries, who relished with great gusto the witty and homely joking and bantering of the lively amazons, with whom they were on the most friendly and familiar footing. It was on a market-day, but the markets were nearly over, and the crowd rapidly dispersing, when the Gaberlunzie and fiddler reached the Cowgate. The latter gazed on the varied and busy throng passing with all the eagerness and delight of childhood. He peeped into all the shop windows, peered into every face, vigilantly noting every variety of expression that presented itself, and marking every peculiarity of form and feature that passed him. He was still, however, very weak, and had to make several halts. During these pauses, what- THE GABERLUNZIE S WALLET. 245 ever caught his eye so engrossed his attention, that his guide had great difficulty in getting him to move along again. The quickness of his apprehension, and the pleasure he appeared to derive from every new object that attracted his notice, reminded the Gaberlunzie of his own feelings, when being yet a boy he had been brought down the same street by a dear friend, long, long since gone ; and the association of ideas so much discomposed him, that unconsciously he pressed the arm of the musician closer, and led him along. They had pro- ceeded in this manner, threading their way through the crowd for some time, when the musician complaining much of weariness, his conductor led him to a large stone seat which stood at the foot of one of the wynds. After having recovered himself a little, he suddenly, and to the great surprise of his companion, burst into a fit of laughter, the result of a lively imagination, and extreme susceptibility to droll, out-of-the-way impressions, his fancy being at this moment peculiarly tickled with some chubby boys playing at marbles on the step of a stair, amid the very feet of the passing multitude, and in which game he said he felt an irresistible desire to join. The Gaberlunzie, delighted to see his friend so merry, and anxious to keep up his lightened spirits, sat down beside him on the stone. A stray sunbeam came stealing round a corner, and fell full on their heads, glistening on the white locks of the musician like a glory, while his companion accompanied the gambols and tricks of the marble-players by sketching and reciting THE WEE RAGGIT LADDIE. WEE stuffy, stumpy, dumpie laddie, Thou urchin elfin, bare an' duddy, Thy plumpit kite an 7 cheek sae ruddy Are fairly baggit, Although the breekums on thy bodie Are e'en right raggit. Thy wee roun' pate, sae black and curly, Thy twa bare feet, sae stoure an' burly, The biting frost, though snell an' surly An' sair to bide, Is scorn'd by thee, thou hardy wurly, Wi' sturdy pride. 24.6 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. Come frost, come snaw, come win', come weet, Ower frozen dubs, through slush an' sleet, Thou patters wi' thy wee red feet Right bauld an' sicker, An* ne'er wast kenn'd to whinge or greet, But for thy bicker. Our gentry's wee peel-garlic getts Feed on bear meal an' sma' ale swats, Wi' thin beef- tea, an' scours o' sauts, To keep them pale ; But aitmeal parritch straughts thy guts, An' thick Scotch kail. Thy grannie's paiks, the master's whipping Can never mend thy gait o' kippin' : I've seen the hail schule bairnies trippin' A' after thee, An' thou aff, like a young colt, skippin' Far ower the lea. 'Mang Hallowfair's wild, noisy brattle, Thou'st foughten mony a weary battle, Stridin' ower horse, an' yerkin cattle Wi' noisy glee ; Nae jockey's whup nor drover's wattle Can frighten thee. THE GABERLUNZ2ES WALLET. 247 When showmen, clad in wild beast skins, Roar, drum, and fife, an' mak sic dins, Or Merry Andrew loups an* grins, While daft fools glower, Thou slips thy rung atween his shins, And yerks him ower. When sodgers at the Links are shooting Wi' ruffin' drums, an' trumpets toutin', Though sentries gie thee whiles a cloutin', An' whiles a kickin', Ae half-toom cartridge thou dost look on Worth a' the lickin'. On King's birthdays thy squibs and pluffs, Slapp'd in the face o' drucken scuffs, Or bizzin' amang lassies' ruffs Or auld wives' fires, In spite o' stormy scolds an' cuffs, Thou never tires. At bools thou nicks, at paips thou praps, Thou birls bawbees, thou dozes taps ; Thou henries nests, thou sets slee traps To catch auld sparrows, Or riddles them wi' cauld lead-draps, An' tin-shod arrows ! Dibblin' in ditches, speelin' rocks, Smeekin' wasps' binks, or huntin' brocks ; Houndin' on dogs, or fechtin' cocks Frae dawn till dark ; Or breakin' shins wi' shinty knocks, Is a' thy wark ! Thy pow gains mony dimpled laurels, 'Mang berry-stands an' sugar-barrels ; Nor grocers' fists, nor greenwives' snarls Can stop thy takin' ; While half the streets are fill'd wi' quarrels A' o' thy makin' ! 248 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. Ilk kiltit Celt, ilk raggit paddy, Ilk sooty sweep, ilk creeshy caddy, Ilk tree-legg'd man, ilk club-taed laddie, Ilk oily leary ; Ilk midden mavis, wee black jauddy, A' dread an' fear ye ! Ilk struttin' swad, ilk reelin' sailor, Ilk rosin't snab, ilk barkin't nailer ; Ilk flunky bauld, ilk coomy collier, Ilk dusty batchy ; Ilk muckle grab, ilk little tailor, A' strive to catch ye ! Ilk thimblin', thievin', gamblin' diddler, Ilk bellows-mendin' tinkler driddler ; Ilk haltin', hirplin', blindit fiddler, Ilk wee speech-crier ; Ilk lazy, ballant singin' idler, Chase thee like fire ! Ilk waly-draiglin', dribblin' wight, Wha sleeps a' day, and drinks a' night, And staggers hame in braid daylight, Bleerit, blin', and scaur; Thou dauds him up, a movin' fright, Wi' dunts o' glaur ! Ilk auld wife stoyterin' wi' her drappie, In teapot, bottle, stoup, or cappie, Fu' snugly fauldit in her lappie, Wi 7 couthy care ; Thou gar'st the hidden treasure jaupie A' in the air ! At e'en when weary warkmen house, Their sair forfoughen spunks to rouse, An' ower th' inspirin' whisky bouse, Croon mony a ditty, Thou sits amang them bauld and crouse, Whiffin' thy cutty ! THE GABERLUNZIE' S WALLET. 249 Thine education's maistly perfect, An' though thou now art wee an' barefoot, Thou'lt be a swankin', spunky spark yet, Or I'm mistaken ; Unless misfortune's gurly bark yet Should change thy vein ! O ! why should age, wi' canker'd ee, Condemn thy pranks o' rattlin' glee ? We a' were callants ance like thee, An' happier then Than after clamberin' up life's tree We think us men ! After the Gaberlunzie and musician had been seated here for about half an hour or so, they arose, and proceeded onward, the latter much invigorated by his rest, and enlivened by the conversation of his friend. When they reached the foot of Blackfriars' Wynd, the organist's whole appearance underwent a sudden and complete change. He looked up the alley with an intense and eager gaze : his brow was knit, and the under muscles of his face were firmly arched and compressed together. He started back a few paces, and looking fiercely around him, seemed as if distrustful even of his kind companion : he then stepped forward, gazed up at the blackened ruin still standing, which had been the scene of so much suffering to him twenty years before, groaned heavily, and dropping his head on his breast, once more resigned himself to the guidance of the Gaberlunzie, who, taking advantage of his present stillness, and anxious to reach the Mint without further delay, led him away down the Cowgate, up the Mint Close, and had him at Nairn's door before he had completely recovered from his fit of melan- choly abstraction. 250 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. * They were met at the foot of the stair by Nanny, on her way to market, with her little basket on her arm. She was arrayed in her gay broad striped gown, tucked through the pocket-holes, from one of which as usual dangled her bunch of keys. A little black bonnet on the crown of her head neither covered her fine clean linen lappets, nor shaded her rather gray and wiry face so effectually as the head covers of modern times, afar down into whose depths you see the faces of their wearers, glimmering like a rushlight at the end of a long dark passage ; and altogether she appeared as thrifty and tidy a goodwife as she was a most painstaking and self-impor- tant housekeeper. Disliking visitors, having, as she said, quite enough to do in managing the Laird himself, Nanny received the strangers at first but coldly. Turning back with them, however, she led the way upstairs, when, singling out from a huge bundle of keys she carried, that one which opened the outer door, she turned round with a sly wink to the Gaberlunzie, and said, "Ay, man, and wha's this lameter ye hae brought us now? I think ye're gaun to mak my master king o' the beggars, that ye're bringing a 7 the clanjamphry in the toun till his house. Ilka loon wha has a blue-gown on his back, a badge on his breast, or a fiddle in his bag, will be making our house his hame by-and-by." "An* whaur wad they gang to, Nanny," said the Gaber- lunzie, " but to sic as you an' the Laird ? Ye ken he has baith a kind heart an' a lang purse ; an' you yoursel', for a' ye are a wee ill-scrapit in the tongue whiles, are aye unco kind to the needy." " Gae wa wi' your whilly-whaws," said Nanny, " yell wheedle but little out o' me e'enow. Gude kens the Laird's purse-strings hae gotten a gey hard rug lately wi' that grand ball that you an' the lave o' his cronies eggit him up till. He'll soon be a blue- gown himseP gin he doesna mind what he's aboot; ye hae fairly diddled and fiddled him out o' his wits, I wot. The deil's in the cats, they'll hae the windows broken ; there they are, keekin' an 7 pawing at ye like bodies. But come awa ben," continued she to the fiddler, in a more kindly tone, as the door at length flew open, and the cats bounded to meet her; " come awa, ye seem unco wearied, gudeman. There, now, can ye no keep down, Willie ; see how the black scoundrel's climbin' on ye and singing to ye? Od you Papists are surely ower THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. 251 thrang wi' Auld Nick, or the cats wadna be sae grit wi' ye ; atweel they mak eneugh o' skirling in the house without you, fiddler." "Ay, ay, Nanny," said the musician, "ye're aye the auld, gude-hearted wifie yet ; your bark's waur than your bite ; an' ye see the cat's out o' the bag, an' the auld Stuarts back again." " Wheesht," said Nanny, pressing her finger on her lip, and she walked into the parlour, the visitors following her. While this was going on down at the Mint, the little mes- senger despatched to the Parliament Square had reached her destination, and had communicated to my aunt, who was in the shop, the message with which she had been entrusted. " Od," said my aunt, "that's awkward; they werena ex peering them till the afternoon. There they are as usual at their cups ower in Johnnie Dowie's. Nanny gangs aye out at this hour to the market, and the puir men will get a steekit door at the Mint." Then calling the shopboy, she whispered him to run over and tell his master and Nairn that they were both particularly and instantly wanted. These two worthies had just finished their meridians, and came running over as fast as their old limbs would carry them, for they knew that some matter of moment must have occurred, otherwise Matty would not have sent for them, it being a pro- ceeding which she had never before on any occasion adopted. When they arrived at the shop, and heard for what they were wanted, they immediately made arrangements for taking my aunt along with them to the Mint \ and as the good lady was as eager to ascertain the fate of the Hepburn credentials as themselves, she soon put herself in marching order. The shop was consigned pro tempore to the charge of a trustworthy work- man, with strict injunctions that he should consult the jeweller on the other side of the square if anything particular was wanted. The man whom they left in charge was also instructed, that if they were not back by four o'clock, he was to shut the shop, bring down the key to Laird Nairn's, and take the re- mainder of the day to himself, including in this indulgence the other workmen, the Courts being up at the time, and not much business doing. " An' see," said my kind uncle, when he had given these instructions, " there's a crown amang ye ; when the master's enjoying himsel', it's but right that the men should have a little enjoyment too." 252 THE GABERLUNZIES WALLET. " Thanks to ye atweel, sir," said the trustworthy fellow ; " we'll drink your gude health in a cup o' Luckie Finlay's best. Hallo, lads!" continued he, bawling downstairs to where his fellow workmen were employed, " hammer and file awa there ; ne'er mind tho' ye chap or scour the nails aff your fingers. Our master has left us a crown, and gien us the afternoon till ourselves; so get through wi' your wark speedily. 7 ' A loud cheer from the subterranean workshop announced how welcome was this intelligence, while the increased noise arising from the accele- rated motion of the hammers and files showed how anxious the workmen were to evince their sense of the indulgence granted them. "And there's my crown," said Nairn; "there's as much friendship in eating as drinking, and the double crown will procure both ; so that while you are drinking your good master's health, you also may remember me." " Gin bribery's to be the order o' the day," said Matty, " I'll need to gie ye my half crown too ; since ye're to drink both the Laird and your master's healths, ye maunna forget a cup to me ; so, tak ye the night o't, and mak ye the maist o't, but keep sober, and be sure not to sleep in in the morning." Having made these arrangements, the party set out for the Mint, where they arrived shortly after the fiddler and Gaber- lunzie had been inducted into the parlour by Nanny, as already described. Nairn's favourite parlour, which has been formerly adverted to, as having been subjected to a thorough "redding up" on the occasion of the grand ball, had not yet got into its old admirable state of confusion. Nanny had set her face fairly against allowing it to be so. The "auld trumpery," as she termed the fine antiques the Laird valued so much, and with which the room had been so richly stored, she had fairly banished into dark and out-of-the-way corners, and if the Laird at any time seizing an opportunity brought one of them slily forth to feast his eyes on it, Nanny, in turn watching her time, slipped it away, and thrust it again into darkness and obscurity, remark- ing to the Laird, " that he kent whaur to get it when he wantit it, and he wad think the mair o't the seldomer he saw't." The parlour was nearly square in form, having one deep breasted, heavy framed, old fashioned window. The walls, ceiling, and woodwork were all panelled in oak, with a FRIENDLY M EETiNG tfhen tlu Parliajnc.ii r, Sqiiarepcaty entered the roam., ttw tiddler rose fivTti thelairds ijre