r "TOORLEj' A Drama of Farm Life in the Lothians IN FIVE ACTS OTHER PIECES If JAMES LUMSDEN ("Samuel Mucklebackit"} LATE OF EAST LOTHIAN AUTHOR OF LAYS AND LETTERS FROM LINTON," EDINBURGH POEMS AND SONGS," ETC. ETC. MACDONALD & CO., LTD., LONDON ROAD 1903 All rights reserved DEDICATION : To ALL THE SUBSCRIBERS TO, AND READERS AND CRITICS OF, MY FORMER VOLUMES I HUMBLY DEDICATE, WITH SINCERE AND PROFOUND GRATITUDE, THIS BOOK. PREFATORY NOTE. WITH the exception of the minor poems entitled, ' Frank Anderson/ 'A Trip to Dunbar/ and the three ' End of Century' pieces, the Contents of this book are here printed for the first time. I have to explain in regard to 'Toorle,' that the effort is designed to represent merely a phase or two of rural life in the Lothians ; for to depict it all, even generally, would require the scope of many dramas indeed of many even ' five act ' ones. Considering also that so much of this play, if written dramatically, would need to be penned in the district vernacular the dear, ' braid auld Scottish tongue,' which William Sinclair, in his very able and most interesting book, truly declares, ' has a strength, a beauty, and a homeliness which a Scotsman at anyrate cannot find in English ' I have written it in the firm belief that it would never be found suitable for stage xii. PREFA TOR Y NO TE. representation. With that idea predominant in my mind, I have striven to write it all truly and interest- ingly for reading only, albeit I have modelled ' Toorle ' strictly after the form and style of the old play- wrights. For dialectic reasons I have likewise given through- out both the ' Drama ' and the ' Other Pieces ' brief meanings in English of all the probably difficult or obscure Scots words and phrases, still in constant use in country quarters, and therefore surely occurring in the text of a play and poems claiming these localities as their ' Calf-ground ' par excellence. This plan was suggested by Chambers's Edition of Burns, where the difficult Scots is explained on the right-hand margin of each page. This method, and its twin the foot-note one which I have adopted, have, however, to balance the supposed ease they afford the southern reader, the grievous fault of necessitating the printing of ceaseless yet unavoidable repetitions, but I have made trial of it notwithstanding, and need say no more. The book contains, I believe, my best. PREFATOR Y NOTE. Now that it is before the Public I can only fervently pray that it may reap the success of its immediate predecessors. J. L. EDINBURGH, January, 1903. CONTENTS. PAGE. 'TOORLE' : Dramatis Personae, . i Act I. ,- '. . . .2 Act 1 1. . .22 Act III. . . 47 Act IV. ... 72 Act V. ... . -99 OTHER PIECES : The Lion Hill, . . . . .129 David Hume, Scottish Philosopher, . . 132 Hume's Last Illness and Death, -. . . 138 Adam Smith, Scottish Economist, . . .145 An Unco' Lord Provost, . . . 155 Lord Monboddo and Robert Burns, . .158 Mactweedle's Office Boy, . . . .176 James Watt, Scottish Engineer, . . .178 On The First Thousandth Number of a Newspaper, 192 Our Little Postman, . . . .194 A Country Hiring, ..... 196 Frank Anderson, ..... 204 xvi. CONTENTS. RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES : The Abbey, . . . . . . 209 Sam, . . . . . . .213 An Abbey Tragedy, . . . ."218 ' The Auld Boy,' . . . .233 ' Coroonie,' ...... 245 Lang Young Tarn, ..... 260 Jamie Steele, . . 264 Where Granny Lived, . . . - . 272 Katie Slicht, ...... 273 Auld Hansel Monday Defunct, . . . 288 Leechman's Pills : Important Testimonials, 293 The Far East, ... . 301 In The Far East, .... 304 Ballad : A Trip To D unbar, . . . 305 END OF CENTURY RHYMES : I. The Auld Auch teens, .... 309 II. The New Nineteens, . . . 315 III. Rhyming In The New Century, . ,321 In The Dawn Of The New Era, . . 328 [Acting rights, ami all other rights, reserved. \ A Drama of Farm Life in the Lot/iians. DRAMATIS PERSONS. LAMM IE, Farmer of Laigh-lea. ROBIN, Son to Lammie and Godson to Toorlc. YOUNGER, Fanner of The Braes. MURRAY, Farmer of Scadfoot. Neighbottr Farmers. HUGH, JOHN, WILLIAM, and THOMAS, Sons to Younger. ROBERT FORMAN, otherwise "TOORLE," 1 A Country Millwright. WILL CHAPMAN, A Country Blacksmith. JOCK, Son and Journeyman to Chapman. ROB. BRODIE, Grieve, or Farm Steward to Lammie. WILLIE BRODIE, His Brother, A Scoto-American. BLUNT, Factor for Lamwi^s and Murray's Landlord. DOCTOR LANG, Medical Practitioner, Fraiks? REV. MR LITTLE, Minister, Fraiks. JAMES WOOD, or " WUDDY," Ploughman, The Braes. TAM WHITE, or " WHITEY," Ploughman, Laigh-lea. PADDY MURPHY, An Irish Harvester. PATSY, Son to Murphy, a Boy. DAFT DAVIE, A Country "Natural." MRS LAMMIE, Second Wife to Lammie. MRS BRAIDHEAD, A Widow, and Aunt to Effie Brodie. MRS MURRAY, Wife to Murray of Scadfoot. MARY BLYTHE, Daughter to the Proprietor of the Goafs Head Inn. 1 Said to be the name he called himself by when a child. 2 Anglict, Freaks. A 2 TOO RLE. [ACT i. EFFIE BRODIE, Daughter to Rob. Brodie, Beloved by Robin. VAE, or VIOLET HORSELEY, Sister to Daft Davie. PEGGY GRAY, > r Servant Girls with Lainmie. PHEMIE BRACK, \ JESSIE ROSE, Servant with Mary Blythe. A Country Policeman, A Prison Warder, Servants, etc. SCENE. Edinburgh and the Countryside East and South of it. TIME. In Acts First and Second, the Early Sixties of last Century ; in the other Acts, several years later. ACT I. SCENE I. A Room in the Goats Head Inn of the Market Town of Fraiks. Afternoon of Market Day. Enter YOUNGER and MURRAY, meeting. Young. Hallo, Maister Murray ! Gled J to see ye. Hoo's a' wi' ye ? Mur. Thenk ye, weel eneuch 2 tho' I muckle fear we are gaun to hae a gell 3 o' wind sune ? Young. Aye the auld man! aye 'fearing' something. Houts, touts, man ! never say ' fear.' And e'en tho' a wind do come, surely we hae tholed winds afore, and are aye to the fore yet oursel's ? Mur. I hae this day three haill fields o' barley, a forty-five acre ane o' Fenton wheat, and twa bigger anes 4 o' tattie aits 5 a' maist deid ripe an' ready for the hook, an' were a wind to come the nicht, I wad be a 1 Glad. - Enough. 3 Gale. 4 Ones. 5 Potato oats. SCENE i.] TOO RLE. 3 ruined man the morn. Oh ! its terrible to think o'. Dreidfu ! Young. Man, Tammas, ye are naething but a doun- richt self-tormentor, in fac' a what they ca' a ' hipokon- dree-ack' eedywut ! l Mourn the win' whan it has come an' dune ye damage. It'll maybe ne'er come ava, 2 and in that case, ye'll hae yer mourning for yer pains. Ring that bell ! Enter MARY. Mary. Were, ye ringin', gentlemen ? Mur. \AsideI\ Nae wund ! I only seek a lown hairst, 3 a fair field an' nae favour. Young. Ha! my bonnie lassie. There again ! Come here, my doo ! Ye do look weel ! Fesh 4 in a gill o' yer best and a potawsh. [Exit Mary\ My princess o' the Braes to be ! Mur. Be-the-bye, neebor, 5 do ye ken Sandy Lammie him that's noo in Laigh-lea, I mean ? I've gotten a note frae him about our Mairch fence an ugly job I fear. Curse baith him and it ! Young. Do I ken Mr Lammie o' Laigh-lea ? Why ! man, I ken him, an' have kenn'd him for abune thirty years noo in fac', sin' afore he took the Auld Mills. He ran a nineteen years' lease out there. Afore that, he was a corn dealer here, and in Embro' 6 as weel, for mony, mony years. Gin 7 you dinna ken him, yer auld faither did, I trow. Lammie's an elder o' the Auld Kirk he was made ane after the Disruption, 8 sair again' j 1 Idiot. * At all. 3 Calm harvest. 4 Bring. 5 Neighbour. 6 Edinburgh. 7 If. 8 Secession from the Church of Scotland in 1843. 4 TOORLE. [ACT i. his will, it was said. Onywey, 1 Tammas, nae doubt the Kirk, at that time, wad be sair press'd for offishers, as vveel as for members an' hearers, and Lamrnie, I jalooze, wad be ane o' the vera best they fell on, or could fa' on, for that maitter. Mur. I understand a' that, neebor, but Re-enter MARY, with refreshments. Young. Ay ! come awa, Mary ! come awa, my lady ! Gie me a kiss the day ! Mary. Gae awa, Maister Younger ! Fye, fye ! an auld white-headed man like you ! A half-crown ? Fse bring the change directly, sirs. Young. ' Change ! ' Not a stiver ! Tak' ' change ' o' a half-crown frae my queen my bonnie Mary Blythe! Na, Mary ! Na, na ! Mary. ' Na, na ! ' to you, too, Mr Younger. But mony braw thanks, sir, a' the same. Ye mean weel, I know. \Evit. Young. Tammas ! I'm a lone widower noo, as ye ken, and I'm a Dutchman too, gin I wadna tak' for a second wife bonnie Mary Blythe the morn.' 2 She's the cleverest and the sweetest lass in Loudon , but I fear Deanhaugh. a Mur. Sae weel ye may, if Toorle be for Mary. He's an awfu' man ! Nane could stand up again' him, if he wad sober himsel', I believe. But, what ! a carle as auld as you to dream o' anither wife ? Losh, 4 man, Younger, tho' no' half your age, I'm married, an' I'm an ass gin I wadna gie a' I'm possessed o' to be free the morn ! 1 Anyway. ' 2 To-morrow. :) Toorle's place on Leddie Water side. 4 Exclamatory, equal to ' Great Scott ! ' SCENE i.] TOORLE. 5 This curst warld is gorgit 1 wi' troubles, an' a woman is the greatest o' them a' at least a wife is ! But, as I was sayin' about Lammie, what kind o' man is he ? Tell me, sir, an' ye hae kenned him sae lang. Our north fence (his south ane) threatens to turn out a ticklish job atween us. Young. Lammie, Maister Murray! Lammie's a man o' men that's a fack ! He's a strong, dacent, wise man kind o' releegious, but no' owre muckle o' that. And he's a man, Tammas, that there is nae cowing a perfit deevil 2 for pushin' on an' gettin' throo. Ony mair drink ? Mur. No ! not anither drap. We start shearing on Monday wi' fifty rigs, an' there's a hantle 3 to do an' mak' ready afore than. I'se see ye neist 4 rnarket-day. Sae ta-ta 'enoo. Do ye raley 5 think, neebor, the wind 'ill keep doun ? Young. I canna say. Ask the wife ! Mnr. (Viciously^ Oo-oo-oo ! hang the besom! her ! ! [Exit. Young. Ha, ha, ha ! What a man ! Nae drink ? He'll be fou 6 or he's out the toun ! I canna say I like him owre weel. There's something o' the fiend owre muckle in him for me. I'se wairn Lammie to keep his cautious e'eonhim. That I sail! 7 He's nae fule 8 either but a dounricht daft destroyer o' his ain, an' his puir wife's peace. That's owre true. He's getting to be owre wat, 9 an' gin he doesna mind, drink will be his ruin. But there is something even waur 10 about him than his drucken tastes, tho' the deil o' me can say what it is. 1 Gorged, full to the throat. a Perfect fiend. :l A great deal. 4 Next. 5 Really. Drunk. "' Shall 8 Fool. Drunken. 10 Worse 6 TOO RLE. [ACT i. He's an able, clever fermer eneuch, 1 ane in the tenancy o' ane o' the finest ferms in the Loudons, 2 under a canny laird, and a factor wha kens what's what a fermer himsel' a giant fallow, an' a big-mindit carle as weel. But Murray, I see, is jealous, an' feart for Lammie. Their ferms lie neist ilk ither, 3 an' of coorse Sandy Lammie far outshines Murray, baith as a respectable man, and as a cawpable fermer. That lang-negleckit mairch fence dispute 'ill raise the deevil atween them yet, as sure's the warld. Murray's mailen 4 Scadfoot is ane o' the surest places in the East country, an' dirt cheap ta'en by his faither afore the war. Lammie pays three times owre the rent that Murray does, has a lairge sma' family, an' a puir bed- fast, deein' 5 woman for a wife. Neither is Laigh-lea as sound a ferm as Scadfoot. It's nae doubt a far bonnier place, wi' the Leddy Water and a' its green howes an' knowes, an' its bonnie spreadin' haughs an' howms, its White Brig, an' auld ruin'd castle, but there's mair siller in Scadfoot had it only haen 6 a man like Lammie to work it out. I'se see Mary doun in the Inn kitchen afore I joogle awa' hame i' th' gig. Will Toorle be there ? I fear he's afore me, the deevil ! he's aye afore ! [Exit. SCENE II. A Country Turnpike Road. A Band of Irish Reapers resting smoking and singing. Reapers [singing'} Flocking from Ireland all the way, Thick thramping night and morn, Across the land, across the say, To rape the goulden corn ! Enough. 2 Lothians 3 Next each other. 4 Farm. 5 Dying. "Had. SCENE 2.] TOORLE. 7 On to the Loudons * right we flee, The early harvest's there, And 'tis a land as swate to see, As our oivn county Clare ! They wekome kindly all the boys, And dar lints, brig/it as morn, Coomd all the way across the say To rape their gonlden corn ! Enter LAMMIE, from a side road, to them. Lam. Guid morning, boys ! Ye hae your hooks, 2 I see ; I am the tenant o' that farm doun bye, And sairly needing hands. What say ye, lads ? Will ye hire on with me ? What ! Paddy Murphy ! [Recognising' an old harvester of his. Mercy ! never ? Murphy. Och, och ! sure 'tis me ould Masther av The Mills ! But how, sor, be yeez here ? Lam. I've ta'en Laigh-lea ; Yon ken that mailen, 3 Paddy Murphy, weel ? Aft hae ye shorn there in the bygane hairsts ! Mnrphy. Laigh-lea ? Hoch ! Me ould masther ! So I have, I've shorn, an' bansther'd 4 too, at ould Laigh-lea, For thirty years wid good ould Master Slate Now dead and gone the Vargin rist his sowl ! Lam. Of coorse ! Laigh-lea being later than The Mills, Aften, when we were shorn, ye gaed 5 there next ? 1 The Lothians. 2 Sickles. 3 Farm. 4 Stocked the sheaves behind the reapers. 5 Went. 8 TOORLE. [ACT I. Murphy. Idid. But are yeezneedin' hands? We be Seekin' for shearin'. Say, thin, what's yer tirms, And take me back agin, Masther Lammie ! Lam. Terms? The same as those langsyne, my boy ! Port wages, 1 and the halesome harvest fare : The toothsome parritch, 2 ilka morn and e'en, With sweet skim-milk ; 3 and for your denner 4 meal, The gratifeein' shearer's bap 5 an' beer The best that coin e'er coft, c forbye, 7 of coorse, Your cosy bed and blanket. [ TJie Reapers consult by tJiemselves. Murphy. Masther, we'll agree, if so be us all, Together in wan coompany, ye'll take ? Lam. O ! I'se do that. Ye've a' a working look ! So, Paddy, afT at once, doun to the grieve, Ye ken him weel he's auld Rob Brodie still ! He left The Mills, and hither cam' wi' me, An' wadna be denied ! Murphy. Sure, right he woz ! Meself it is as would have done that same, Unless you'd stayed wid me ! Lam. Ha ! ha ! But, Pat, Where is your little laddie, Patsy, now ? \Mnrphy whistles on his fingers. Enter PATSY, chewing beans. Murphy. The spalpeen is at war, your Honour, plaze, 1 The wages agreed to by farmers and reapers, and then publicly announced by the Chief County Constable every Monday morning during harvest at the West Port, or entry, of Fraiks. 2 Porridge. :{ Milk with the cream skimmed off. 4 Dinner. 5 Loaf. c Bought. 7 Besides. SCENE 3.] TOO RLE. 9 Wid that outrageous brut' called Oirish want, Whom nothing has o'ercoom, but naips an' banes, 1 Since we did lave our ship ! (Aside to PATSY.) O you young thafe ! Coom here, you scub, an' spake his Honour sinse, Sure it's ould Masther Lammie av The Mills ! Patsy. O father ! -So it is ! He gave me wonct 2 The night that Little John, his boy, did die, A whole half-crown, bekaze that I ' did play, An' woz the coomrade of his dear dead lad ! ' Lam. (Excitedly?) Nae mair o' that ! Paddy, awa ! Haste to the field, an' get yer baps an' beer, The denner cairt's at hand! {Exeunt Reapers. Eh, me ! eh, me ! That gabbie youngster made my saft briest thud As it had held the heart o' our Pet Lamb ! Owre saft am I, owre womanish an' weak, Me ! the " leading agriculturist'' a' owre, To whinge an' bubble like a jilted wench ! And this the ouk 3 that Murray comes to learn Gin we can settle 'bout that cursed mairch hedge, When, Lammie, ye'se need a' yer wits, I trew, For, by a' rumours, he's a sicker carle ! But, O my laddie ! O my favourite bairn ! The flower o' a' my flock ! To dwine an' dee ! He was owre guid 4 for hungering death to leave ! {Exit. SCENE III. The Kitchen of the Goafs Head Inn. Enter YOUNGER and MARY. young. Yes, that's it. What is't to be the nicht ? 1 Turnips and beans. - Once. 3 Week. 4 Good. io TOO RLE. [ACT i. Consent ? O bonnie Mary Blythe, I'll tak' nae less ! Mary. ' What is't to be the nicht ? ' The same as hitherto, of course. Weel that ye ken. It winna do. Ye're far owre auld for me. Young. 'Auld/ lassie! Ca' ye me 'auld ?' Ninety is auld, an' I'm younger ca'd 'Younger,' an guid for thirty years yet at least. Mary. Ye are ' ca'd ' Younger, truly. That's your name. But he wha ca's ye younger than seventy odd years, is as big a fool as yourself, an' ye are nae midge, I trow ! Gae awa, ye auld white-headit Romeo ! Ye crazy lusty fule. Thinkna ye shame o' yersel', ye daft, doited frailty ? A wooer ! A gran'-gutcher, 1 rather ! Isna Hugh, yer auldest son, a married man wi' fowre o' a family ? And arena yer twa youngest anes strapping troopers in the Loudon Yeomanry? 2 Gallant lads they be baith ! 3 Gae awa hame, ye glaiket, 4 fuisted, 5 gray-green, auld stock ! I winna hae ye ! A man like a mickle swallen bour-tree trunk in a snaw storm, just about to tapple owre ! Me tak' ye ! Gae awa hame. I'll no' hae ye. Young. Mary ! Mary ! Listen to me, Mary ! Ye hae gotten brains, an' smert anes at that. Sae my dainty, my angel ! my diveenity ! listen to me. I am a man o' means, as ane may say, an' tak' me, tak' ane that sail mak' ye a perfit lady ! Ye'se dress, Mary, ye'se dress in silks, an' satins, an' white lace ; an' drive about i' th' gig like the Queen Viktory. Ye'se hae fowre servants to do yer bidding amaist afore ye speak ; an' to say ' Mem ' to ye every ither word. Think o' 1 A great grandfather. 2 The Lothians and Berwickshire Regiment of Yeomanry. 3 Both. 4 Silly. 5 Withered. SCENE 3.] TOORLE. ii that ! O Mary, think on a' that. They sail milk a' the kye, 1 ca' the kirn, 2 feed baith the pigs an' the pooltry, kinnle every fire i' th' house ilka 3 morning. Guid-sake, guidness! think on a' that, Mary! Ye sail be as idle as a princess, or a minister's wife ! What say ye, lass ? Bonnie leesome 4 Mary Blythe ! O ! what say ye, noo ? Mary. Bide back ! stand abeigh 5 there ! I am to blame for this mysel'. I am too free an' familiar wi' ye, I fear. But we've kenn'd ye sae lang, an' ye've aye been sae extraordinary guid an' kind, baith to father an' me, that I've looten ye gang 6 owre far. Silks, satins, lace, gigs, servants servile an' slavish, idleness, kye milkit, kirns ca'd, fires kinnelt, and YERSEL' a' for just saying the ae wee wordie ' Yes f ' But Young. Toorle ! O, Mary, is it Toorle ? Mary. No, never ! It is not Toorle. young. Then for what does yer face aye redden whanever I name his name ? Mary. Does it ? (blushing deeper) Mr Toorle is a toper ; and no man, no matter whom he might be, nor how greatly and truly he loved me, shall ever gain one jot of my favour who indulges to excess in strong drink. But hush ! I hear a customer. Hold your tongue. Enter TOORLE agitated, and someivliat tipsy. YOUNGER and MARY step aside. Toorle. Ho ! ho ! No plebians here ? Come on ! Come on ! 1 Cows. 2 Turn the churn. 3 Every. 4 Lovable. 5 Aloof. 6 Permitted you to go. 12 TOORLE. [ACT i. O, I could drink John Barleycorn's last lees. I have a stomach greedy as the sea That swallows Amazonia. Drink ! drink ! drink ! My dear Grandam is dead. Her all is mine ! I'm left her all down to her kitchen tangs ! Peal loud Hosannas, all ye burgh bells ; Proclaim the hallow'd midnight she succumb'd, Until I die myself an era hence ! I'm stronger than This Age, though drier than The Year of the SJwrt Corn ! Where be the waits ? They cannot all, like Gran, be ' dead and gone ? ' Small matter if they've been as good to me, Her sole inheritor ! Not one mortal else ! I'll keep her last day as a Hansel Monday, Sacred to all the muses and high jinks ! Let saws and lathes, gouges, and chisels rot ! Glue-pots and patterns waste and fall to dust ! Why need I care ? My Grandam dear is dead, And safely plank'd in Bank is all her gear ! Mary ! O, Mary Blythe ! a horn of brandy here. [YOUNGER and MARY come forward, then Exit MARY. young. What ! Maister Toorle here, and fuddled fou ? ! Gin ye'll gae at it, tak' ye tent, 2 my son ! Sich on-gauns maistly end whare ruin lies. Enter CHAPMAN, Elevated also. Chap. (Jauntily.} ' Whan market days are wearin late, And folk begin to tak' the gate,' We meet wi' freens we dinna hate 1 Fully intoxicated. - Take heed. SCENE 3.] TOORLE. 13 What are ye gaun to Jiae ? just say't ! Young. Od, Chapman ! whan a wee drafts i' yer ee, A funnier /outer round there downa l be ! Toorle. O ! rhyming are you ? Then, I wont be beat ! Chapman and Younger, two chum fogies, meet ; Which of the two the greatest bore may be, Let others say for I am on the spree ! Will ! touch that bell -for ' Toorle s ' on the spree ! Re-enter MARY. Toorle. {Mock-earnestly^ Ha! Come on, Mary Light- of-heels, draw nigh ! I saw thee, flirting one, when passing near The Witches' Loan, at nine o'clock, one night, (That very night on which poor Granny died, And left so mindfully her all to me !) I saw thee Mary Many-joes, I say, Keep love's sweet tryst with Job the butcher's son ! Mary (Taking him seriously.) Me! Mr Toorle! Out out-owre this house I haena been sin' I was at the kirk, On Sabbath afternoon, which I can prove ! O sir ! O sir ! An' sic a man as you ! How can ye stain a helpless lassie so ? Young. Toorle ! Rise up, ye dog ! I am ' auld ' may be, But no sae auld but that I can do that ! [Knocks TOORLE down. Mary. Help, help ! Police, police ! Murder, murder ! 1 Cannot. 14 TOO RLE. [ACT i. Chap. Wheesht, lassie, wheesht, I say, an' baud yer tongue ! Div ye no' see ye scaur the vera deuks, 1 That plouter 2 i' the strands 3 alang the street ? Toorle. (Coming to himself.) What is it now ? ' Drunk ?' Mr Younger, didst thou knock me down ? Then I was ' drunk ' indeed. What was it for ? Thou art, my friend, the only living man, In all the Lothians Three, that could do this, Or, having done't, whom I would not destroy ! Chap. But Me ! Rise up, ye wind-bag, an' be burst outricht! Young. Is my machine ready ? Answer me that ! Toorle. Ye hit rather fast ye were mista'en. Young. Is my machine ready, I ask of you ? The devil damn'd wha'd cast a slur upon This matchless maiden, sail be damrid, atweel. \Exennt YOUNGER and MARY. Toorle. Well, one gill more. Old Chapman, touch the bell ! [CHAPMAN rings. Toorle \sings\. By Chapman s bum 4 / fain would creep, Lay doun my head, and go to sleep I sheer forget it all. But now, it is, My ' Mary's liquor ' here, not ' Logan Water. ' 5 Yet both to me are sweet measure beyond. Chap. O Toorle, for a dounricht bletherskate, 6 France couldna equal ye whan drink is in. Man, man! ye mak' me lauch," But here she comes! 1 Ducks. ' 2 Dabble. 3 Gutters. 4 Back. 5 Scots song so-called. 6 Talker of nonsense. 7 Laugh. SCENE 3.] TOO RLE. 15 Re-enter MARY. Mary. \To TOORLE]. Younger left word that he will call on you, And, Mr Toorle, say, even here, and now, How could ye sae belie an' hurt my name, As ye this e'ening tried sae hard to do ? The name o' ane, atweel, that fient a haet 1 Did e'er wrang- you or yours. Toorle. \To MARY]. Mary ! I mind no more of that than thou Mind'st of thy birthday. Let it be forgot. I was befool'd by lack of sleep, and too much skeich ! 2 (My Grandam's gone, and left her all to me what I've suffer'd since she breathed her last, And lawyer Brockie read her touching will, Tho' she was ninety-nine, and years bed-rid ! ) Upon thy dear auspicious marriage day, 1 will present thee, Mary, with a gift That shall exceed Grandmother's legacy, In absolute proportion, as much as Thy beauty and thy merit do Old Nick's ! No thanks ! Another little smile and Mum ! Exit MARY. Chap. (Drinking) Here's pith ! Ye are a dev'lish man, I ken, And guid for news. Come ! tell us what's the soom 3 Your Granny's left ye ? You an' me are freends, Auld, life-lang freends, your secret's safe wi' me, As it is wi' yer Grandam in her graff. 4 Toorle. Chapman, our shops are near together placed, We, therefore, for each other job, and are, 1 Devil a bit. ' 2 Drink whisky. 3 Total Amount. 4 Grave. 1 6 TOO RLE. [ACT i. Both better for our mutual help and skill ; So, then, I say, I'll herewith tell thee all ; If thou'lt reciprocate, and in one word Will state exactly what is Lammie's rent ? Thou wast a witness to his lease, I'm told ? Chap. I was. And I agree To barter for the will 1 poor Lammie's lease, Sae, say ye on. Toorle. I was bequeathed her all House, furniture, and shares with all her cash Amounting in the gross to {holding all the fingers of one liand up} these thousand pounds. Chap. Lord, Toorle ! ye sail hae boozing noo galore ? Toorle. No ! I'll turn cynic in the House of Lords, And stagger Rome with my asceticism. Come ! What is Lammie's real rent ? Chap. Na, only in yer lug ! ( Whispers in Toot Its ear.) Toorle. Ah, ah, alas ! now he is trapp'd indeed ! What monstrous folly, in a common man, This rent would show ! but, paid down by Lammie, It will be look'd on as a feat of mind, And be applauded to the shrinking heavens! For each acre Scots, he, first in current cash, Pays down to Blunt, the factor, thirty ' bob ; ' And then, in kind, and for the self same land, Another sum, to represent in full Six bushels wheat, computed at The second Fiars of this so-famous shire Struck by our gentle sheriff year by year ? Then, plainly, Chapman, 'tis a rent per acre, 1 Last testament. SCENE 4.] TOO RLE. 17 Which, were we sober, I could demonstrate Is one for any farm a charge impossible ; But we must ' waly up the brae ! ' Drink up, And let us (sings) ' Gae toddliri hame ! Toddliri hame, toddliri hame, As round as twa neeps Gae toddliri hame ! ' \Exennt. SCENE IV. The Banks of Leddy Water. Enter ROBIN and EFFIE boy and girl gathering flowers. Eff. Eh, Robbie, what a bonnie day, an' what a bonnie place this is ! O, I like the Leddy Water side. Rob. Langsyne, they ca'd it Ledi Water, meaning the ' Water of God.' Eff. An' nae wonder ! Did ye ever see a place sae bonnie ava, Robin ? It pits me aye in mind o' my mither's sang that's ca'd 'The Banks an' Braes o' Bonnie Doon.' She says, Robin, that Burns, the great poet, made it. O, Robin, he maun hae been an' awfu' fine-feeling man ? I wish I could read his book a' richt through. Can ye do that, Robin ? Rob. I am readin' him the noo, for the first time, but it's gey ill. 1 The Scotch bits are the warst,' 2 but the best tae, Effie, efter ye ken them. O, Effie wummin, 3 he's awfu' grand ! But I think ye wad like Mailie best. Eff. What wey, Robbie ? Rob. Because it's sae like you. Eff. What is't about ? Come, tell's, Robin. Very difficult. 2 Most perplexing. :! Woman. 1 8 TOO RLE. [ACT i Rob. It's about a pet yowe 1 that Burns had. The time he was at the ploo, he used to hae her tether'd be the fit 2 on some fine grass plot or ither whare the grass was lang an' fine an' green, an' whare there was rowth 3 o't. It was kindness in Burns made him do that, nae doubt, but a tether's a kittle 4 tow aye, Effie. Weel, ae day he spied a grand bit for Mailie on the edge o' a deep dry ditch, an' he tether'd her on't the verra next mornin' for Burns was e'en a fine man, Effie afore his brither Gilbert an' him gaed awa to the ploo. Efter bre'kfast time, auld Mailie was sae thrang fillin' hersel' up, an' sookin' 5 her twa lambs, that she forgot the tether an hankit hersel' on't, an' trippit, an' syne tummelt owre an' slade rowin' doun to the verra bottom o' the beastly dry ditch, an' couldna geit oot. 6 Eff. Eh, mercy, Robin ! Was she kill'd ? Did she dee? Rob. Ay ! O, Effie, she was kill'd ; an' her death near hand kill'd Burns as weel. But I'se pit the book i' my pouch an' read it to ye the morn, if ye winna be sae thick wi' Jock Lowrie ? Eff. O, Robin ! Ye ken fine that John Laurie is in our class at the schule ; an' I only help him wi' his lessons because he was sae lang no' weel, 7 an' because he is sich a fine laddie. Rob. But we're no' at the schule the noo ; this is harvest time. Eff. Ay, but when John comes doun frae Kippie, I canna send him awa hame without speakin' to him. I dinna like. 1 Ewe. 2 Foot. 2 Plenty. 4 Ticklish. 5 Suckling. 6 Get out. 7 Indisposed. SCENE 4.] TOORLE. 19 Rob. Of coorse no'. But what wey do ye convoy him sae far name ? Eff. I no ken, Robbie, but I pity him. He's no' strong. An' ye ken, Robbie, that I am your lass tho' we're little better than bairns yet. Rob. Gey big bairns ! But sin' ye say, Effie, that I am your lad, an' that you are my lass, I'll read ye Mailie the morn, an maybe the Wee Mouse tae ! Eff. O, yes, Robin ! Hoo does Mailie begin, div 1 ye mind ? Rob. No' just vera weel, yet, but it's something like this ' As Mailie an' her lambs thegither war' a' three busy at the tether' No, that's no' it! But ye ken Burns had her tied be the fit to a stab 2 or a hedge ruit 3 (I think it wad be a hedge ruit, Effie, because Mailie could hae eithly 4 pu'd a stab out o' the grund whan she cleekit on the rope), no' to let her come batherin' him whan he was plooin' ' Upon her cluit 5 she cuist a hitch, 6 an' ower she whammelt 7 i' th' ditch ! ' Eff. Puir craitur ! An' Burns to be far awa at the ploo at the time. He wad never ken, Robbie ? Puir craitur ; nae wonder she was kill'd ! Rob. Burns kenn'd Effie, but no' till it was owre late. He had a little callant 8 for herdin' his kye 9 they ca'd Hughoc, or Hughie, an' he saw Mailie in the sheuch 10 first, afore she was fair deid. He wad likely be gaun hame for his denner at the time, an' swithly, 11 nae doubt, he wud rin an' tell Burns, an he sune loot 12 a' the world ken about it. 1 Do. 2 Stake. 3 Root. 4 Easily. 5 Foot. 6 Cast a loop. 7 Tumbled sideways. 8 Boy. 9 Cows. 10 Ditch. 11 Smartly. 12 Let. 20 TOORLE, [ACT i. Eff. Ye're richt, Robin ! They'll ken in America be this time ? But Mailie couldna speak to wee Hughie ? An' hoo could she baa so's to let him ken ? Rob. Of course, Mailie couldna speak like /t now. 82 TOO RLE. [ACT iv. Toorle. My bonny Jenny, thanks ! We are old friends ! \Exit Servant, smiling pleasedly. Enter MRS MURRAY, confused. Mrs M. O ! Maister Toorle ! I gat your letter, sir, And I hae grutten x owre't sith e'er it cam', Its sae uncommon kindness touch 'd me sae ! Hoo could ye ever dream to tak' me hame ? I'd be a life-lang burden to ye, sir ! Toorle. I beg your pardon, madam, you mistake ! The 'kindness' and the 'burden ' would be yours, And I would be the gainer everyway, Did we agree. Hear me ! Our doctor Lang Avows his own way inimitable That Griz, our stout, unique, archaic Griz, My ancient nurse and governante's, become, By the constraint of age and frailty, quite Bed-fast and helpless, therefore, I do need Do need most urgently one fit, like you, To mistress and administer my house. So, herein (showing a written document) is writ down, and duly sign'd, As per my letter, all the terms, in full, Of our contract desigrid to last our lives Take it and let me go no words no thanks I hurry to Laigh-lea, and am too late ! {Exit, in haste. Mrs M. (So/a.) Was ever kenn'd before a man like that ? He strives to gar 2 me think I'm kind to him! 1 Cried. a Make. SCENE 5.] TOORLE. 83 Begs me to be, for life, his Housekeeper The leddy mistress o' a place like his ! The Lord will bless the dirt that's trod upon Be sich 1 a Saul as that ! I, but yestreen, Was as the widow o' a living man, A hameless, hopeless beggar ! Noo, e'en this nicht, I wadna swap 2 my wardly prospects with The highest fermer's wife's in a' the land And 'twerena for the thocht o' him in jail ! [Exit. SCENE V. Laigh-lea. A room in LAMMIE'S house. Enter LAMMIE and ROBIN. Lam. Altho' ye truly wan the Swurd 3 last year, An' made yer faither's heart swall big wi' joy That he was the begetter o' a lad Could whup 4 the best in a' our Yeomanry (That Nursery o' the bangest 5 human aiks Auld Scotland rears for her life's services) A trooper like THE DOUGLAS ! 7 what o' that ? What, if this strappin', seeming ' Touch-me-not,' Prove, efter a', but as a wooden gaud, Whittled, an' dinkit 8 out in Brummagem, Wi' jist as little in him o' his promise As in thae baubles, made to counterfeit Their vera opposites ? Here is her letter (showing one), Wharein the limmer 9 speaks o' your 'betrothal' To her pert precious ' niece ! ' a bumpkin's brat ! Fill'd fou' o' Edinboro' pride an' cheek, Till she's become a hash 10 o' uselessness, 1 By such. 2 Exchange. 3 Yeomanry Sword highest prize. 4 Defeat. 5 Ablest. 6 Oaks. 7 Sir James the favourite of The Bruce. 8 Carved and dressed. 9 Hussy. 10 Jumble ; mess. 84 TOORLE. [ACT iv. An' sickening flummeries ! Rob. Father ! I grieve now I could not tell you sooner. There were reasons Enter THE SECOND MRS LAMMIE. Which I might not surmount. Mrs L. Hear me ! one word ! Robert, your father's told me all ! Nan Neil's no jilt ! No ! tho' an heiress, and a gentlewoman, A lady born and bred, and high endow'd, Both with gifts natural, and wealth bequeathed By relatives long gone She is no jilt ! Wherefore, I say, for you to flirt her thus, Having no cause, is an ungallant deed A base, dishonourable, unmanly deed, Think of it how you may ! Rob. Lord's mercy, madam ! What is Nan Neil to me ? I love her none ! 'Tis true I squired her at our Yeoman ball, Down at Dunbar, last July's drilling time, And that I've nodded to her thrice since then, When, casually, I met her riding out, Attended by her lackey, horsed likewise, A hundred yards in rear, and that sums up The total of my intercourse with ' NAN,' In love, and all things else ! Mrs L. Then she, poor lady, Hath fed her spirit upon hollow hopes, And now must starve outright ? I fondly thought, When she disclosed to me, in privacy (Engender'd by our mutual faith and love) Her passion for you, which she did characterize As, ' what space is unto the Universe, SCENE 5.] TOORLE. 85 Holding and having all ! ' I say, I thought, And still do think, your blissful union would Solve happily our farm perplexities, Born of the evil times in which we live, And fight infinities with baby hands Like seeking for North Poles in washing tubs ! Rob. Thank God ! It can not, and it shall not be I say so, and my word, in this, is law ! Lam. Ailice, leave him to me ! Step ye upstairs ! Mrs L. Before I go, hear me, ' law '-speaking boy ! / am the mistress of my lips and tongue, And what they ' word,' / mean ! therefore attend ! The price of thy rejection of Nan Neil (Tis well that thou shouldst know) will be, in fine The loss to thee for ever of Crowheugh, Disgrace, and ruin, to thy father dear ; And beggary to us all beyond remead ! l Reject a lady, capable to save A crowd of wreck'd insolvents, ev'n as us, From bitter bankruptcy and after lives, Too dreadful even to think of! by one scratch Of her so nimble and so willing pen ! Reject this ample saviour of us all ! Reject her ! O ! for whom ? for what, my dear ? A silly city gigglet, verily ! Rob. (Impulsively^) No ! but a Paragon ! a regal lass, Of Nature's royalty ! a princess true, A gifted, gracious princess, whose shoe soles Thou, Madam, thou with all thy pride and style, Parvenu dignities, and upstart airs Art even unfit to lick ! 1 Remedy. 86 TOORLE. [ACT iv. Mrs L. (Beyond herself.} Go to, thou whelp ! Too rabid me to flout, far less tofleeck! 1 But I'll be neer disgraced by beggary, Tko' the end fear d hath come ! \Exit. Lam. (Alarmedly.) Hush! Robin, hush ! She's gall'd, an' say are ye sae say nae mair ! But what she said, before this fell fa' out, Was but the wae, 2 wae truth ! for Blunt is deid 3 Auld Factor Blunt of priceless memorie! A sudden spend 4 he's ta'en frae prime o' life, Owre louping eild, 5 intil the gulf o' death ! The New Man, Blunt's successor, is a lawyer, Sae we're a' said 6 an' buchted 7 noo like sheep Drawn for the killin'-house, 8 doun by at Fraiks, Gin ye persist in keeping afif Miss Neil, For our last hope lay in her stocking-fit, 9 And her sworn willingness to stand our freend, An ye but wedded her ! Else, Robin, lad ! The morn's the last day or 10 our sequestration, Whilk n ends my maistership and honours a'! Breaks up an' scatters a' our faimily ! Reives 12 a' the hauchs an' howms 13 I've till'd sae lang ! Kills a' my fireside comforts leisure hours Rob. O father ! wail not thus, and hear me speak. This final stroke I have foreseen for years, And, for such time, I've been preparing for't. I leave to-night by train Laigh-lea for ever Unless old miracles repeat their scores, 1 Coax ; advise. 2 Sad. 3 Dead. 4 Leap. 5 Old age. 6 Sold. 7 Folded. 8 Slaughter house. 9 Bank account. 10 Before. n Which. 12 Steals away ; deprives him of. 13 Meadows and flats. SCENE 5.] TOORLE. 87 Or beastly Fortune bates this persecution Enough to save our plans. (Pulls a bell cord.) Lam. ' Scores ! ' ' plans ! ' What ' plans ? ' Enter PEGGIE. Rob. Peggie, has Mr Toorle never come ? Peg. O, yes, Maister Robin,! He's ben i' the kitchen ! Rob. Then, Peggie, kindly ask him to come here. Peg. O ! I'se do that, Maister Robin, that will I ! [Exit. Rob. Now, father, prove your grit in this grand hour ! Enter TOORLE. Toorle. (To Lammie.) My old friend, I know all ! No repetitions ! Sterne, your new factor, I did meet by chance, His lordship your old liberal laird * also, Down in their Office at the Home-farm house. Lam. Ay ! that is queer. He is nae laird o' yours ? Toorle. Sad fact ! But there I saw them, sure enough As, times and times, thyself have urged me do ? Lam. Me ? Surely no ! But worry memory thrapples. 2 Toorle. Well, this is the result anent Laigh-lea Crowheugh, of course, is lost profitably lost, Else would ye be rack-rented worse than now ! Lam. Wait, wait. Grant me one word. Does YON begin On Friday morning ? Sail I be wrackit than ? 3 Toorle. Bankrupt ? Thou would'st be, but I'll pull thee through, 1 Landlord. 3 Throttles. 3 Sequestrated then ? 88 TOO RLE. [ACT iv. If thou wilt catch and grasp the buoy I throw ! Adopt, without demur, my Saving Scheme ? Lam. What is it ? O what is it ? Say, O, say ! And tho' ye glibly speak as twanging wires O' railroad telegraphs, my ears sail still Wi' painfu' keenness and impatience ring For ye to hurry the delivery O' such a hope-fraucht message as of help frae you ! Toorle. It may allay the ringing in thine ears With what may pain them more than fretfulness And lack of patience. But 'twill cure right off, If taken as design'd, and as desired. Lam. O man ! the noo, the noo ? Pour't out, at wance, And I sail swallow't an' ye tell me to, Tho' 'twere to pain like a new Flodden-field ! Toorle. Like Flodden-field, it is design d to purge ! This one, thy state of ambiguities, Heroic humbugs, and quixotic fads, And fit it for the reign of simple sense. Lam. Pour't out, and I sail swallow, kill or cure! Rob. My true-blue Daddy still ! ' T^Lvill ctire, not kill. Toorle. Ay, if gulp' d down slap-bang, and holus-bolus ! Lam. E'en as ye took yer merrie drams lang syne ? Toorle. So ! And pray it cure, as those old drams did me Of even taste for them loathsome as dung ! Lam. Out wi' it, then, an' let us gape our best ! Toorle. No shirking now ! Thy ' cure ' is this : Let us announce thy true insolvency, Direct, to all the world, in the Gazette ; And after ten days' notice given thy creditors, SCENE 5.] TOORLE. 89 Have our first meeting with them and the factor, Where thou shalt truthfully set forth thy state, With full inventory of thy assets, Which, after hearing, I'll make bold to know What is proposed ? This, instantly, thou'lt answer That in thy wretched strait, no dividend, More than a half of all thou stand'st indebted Ten shillings in the pound, within six months Can'st thou, meantime, with truth and surety offer, But not one scruple shall remain unpaid, If needful time they graciously but grant ; They, setting thy arrears 'gainst thy assets, Will shrewdly ask how thou'rt to give so much ? And I that problem on the spot shall solve By giving them our bonds Robin's and mine ! Lam. A leech ? a quack ! a freend, but e'en a quack, Wha'd ' cure ' ae broken man by bre'kin' twa ! Waur wad sic ' cures ' be, surely, than our ills ! Forbye ! l What is the worth o' Robin's ' bond ' A youth whase total walth's his yeoman horse, Whilk he had gien him, as his Cornel's gift, Whan he the ' Riding ' wan owre a' the troop ? Toorle. Being uninformed, thou look'st askance, my friend, But shall see square betimes. The ' one half share Thy ten shillings offer I'll stand for myself! Bow- Wow, our lawyer in the town of Fraiks, Shall see it all done right and legally. Lam. I'm as bamboozled as 'twere Hansel Tuesday! 2 1 Besides. 2 The day following that of the old Scots festival, still fondly remembered ' Auld Hansel Monday ' the first Monday of the year, old style. 90 TOO RLE. [ACT iv. But in the name o' sense and conscience baith, What will the likely outcome o't a' be ? Toorle. With glad alacrity the claimants all Will grab thy bid in these sore-farming times, And, if they do, his Lordship promises To cancel straight thy last lease of Laigh-lea, And grant a new, and eke an easier one, To suit the new changed times, but, not till I, Propound my scheme for final settlement To make thy laird thyself, and Robin heir ! Meantime, what say'st thou ? Wilt thou try my ' cure ? ' Lam. I am owre flabbergasted ev'n to think ! Gie me ae nicht to sleep owre't a', my boy, And I'se see you the morn ! Does Robin leave His Faither's house this wey ? Without a word ? And leave for what, or whare ? Toorle. Extend thy trust in me another day, And that extension I shall justify With a result beyond anticipation, Though that extended to the poles of faith. \Exeunt TOORLE and ROBIN. Lam. (Solus.} Alake ! x That I should pairt wi' Robin sae ! My Crichton an' Sir John the Graeme in ane ! My hope an' heir ! my glory, staff, an' stey ! Enter PEGGIE, excitedly. Peg. O sir ! excuse me for disturbin' ye but the Mistress has haen anither sick dwam, I think, an' I thocht it best to tell ye o't ? Lam. Of coorse, of coorse. Whan was she ta'en ill ? 1 Alas. SCENE 6.] TOO RLE. 91 Peg. Jist afore dear Maister Toorle cam'. Lam, Eh ! sae lang as that syne ? Did ye send for the doctor, as I tauld ye aye to do, whan I couldna weel do sae mysel' ? Peg. O yes, sir ! Tarn White, wha is awa' to the station for twa cairtfu' coals, is to send him up, an' nae doubt the doctor, gif he was at hame whan Tarn ca'd, 'ill be here in a meenit or twa. Lam. That's a' richt, Peggie. But whare is the Mistress 'enoo ? 1 Peg. In her aih room upstairs. Lam. Weel, weel. I'se stap up an' see her at ance. \Exeunt. SCENE VI. The Same. MRS LAMMIE'S Boudoir. MRS LAMMIE discovered reclining on a couch. Lam. ( Without?) Ailice ! May I come in ? (No answer.} Enter LAMMIE, Flurried- loo king. Lam. (Going to the couch?) What ! sick again, my dear ? Why did ye no' answer me, Ailice ? Enter PEGGIE, Hurriedly. Peg. Did ye cry for me, sir ? I heard some ane crying loud (going toivards the couch.} Eh, Lord ! what's this ? A dwam ? 2 No ! O ! O ! she's deid ! Lam. G'wa, wummin! 3 only a swoon! What's here? (Picks up from floor a small empty phial, labelled 'POISON, PRUSSIC ACID.') 1 Just now. 2 Faint. 3 Go away, woman. 92 TOORLE. [ACT iv. Enter DOCTOR LANG, servants, and others, confusedly. Doc. (Looking at tJie body of Mrs Lammie.) Now, what's the matter here ? Ho, ho, poison ! She's been poisoned ! Clear the room ! Let no one leave the house ! Housekeeper, clear the room ! Send for police ! \Exeunt PEGGIE, servants, etc. Lam. God ! God ! O, God ! Doc. O ! be a man, my friend ! What's this ? ( Takes a letter from the toilet tabled) Lam. A letter? Hers? I'm broken! Read it, Doctor ! Doc. It is to you, from her ! (Reads.) ' Dearest, Ere you read this, I shall have rejoined the angels. Having well foreseen this end of all our stupendous, but v.iin strtiggles and false hopes, I was, as nsual, all ready. I could not, nor would not, outlive competence and decency, much less survive even the beginning of the inevitable and appaling poverty and social degrada- tion, inseperable from the bankruptcy of an old tenant farmer. Besides, I entertain a quite different opinion of Robin from you. I deem him but a rustic ' Hotspur ;' a fiery, reckless, headstrong fool one who is never happy but when he is standing in his oivn light, and defying all people of sense and wit within his reach or influence. The best of him is his outside, which in justice I must say is tolerable. Dying, I pity poor, poor Nan Neil. The report of my death, solely caused by Robins woeful and tinnatural conduct, will break her high-pi tcli d heart. She loved him as no lady ever loved a mere man before. Often has she told me so herself. But that impudent, pink-faced Edinbcro hussy he deliberately prefers, and so at once puts a full period to all our foolish hopes, and to my brilliant, and for years very triumphant career in the double role of a notable leader of fashion and a famous land manager and scientific agriculturist. I bequeath all the meagre remnants of my former wealth and splendour, present SCENE 7.] TOORLE. 93 cabinets, wardrobes, and my entire stock in trade, to Miss N. Neil, who has been as a daughter to me for five and forty years. My last Will and Testament with codicils are in the keeping of your own vulgar, but shrewd, lawyer, Thomas Bow- Wow, of Fraiks. Alexander, lastly, yon will be all the better wanting me, especially when Robin marries the ' Paragon] and brings himself and the whole family down to the low position of mere work people hinds, grooms, drainers, and such like creatures. The certain internal assurance of this drives me hence and from life. And, so, farewell. I shall wait for you on the other side, Alexander, but not long, I Jwpe. Meantime, adieu ! The vial is uncorked! Au revoir ! The acid is swallowed! Yours ever ! The late Mrs L .' Lam. That whups the Yankees ! Prussia acid, tae ! Doc. Yes, instantaneous death. The poor lady took enough for that, I see ! Depression ; too severe for her. Where is Mr Robin ? Lam. He's left this sinking ship, an' sail'd I kenna whare! Ome! O me! Ca' in, Doctor, at Deanhauch, an' tell Toorle. He will flee to me as sune's he hears this dooms dreidfu' * story. God bless him ! Doc. Yes O, yes ! Now, my friend, come with me from this sorrowful room at once. Down to the parlour. Mr Toorle shall be with you immediately, and do not let him leave you. He will manage every- thing. Come, dear sir, come away ! \Exeunt. SCENE VII. Edinburgh. The Visiting Cell in Calton Jail. Enter the CHIEF WARDER and TOORLE. Ward. But, the Governor did so instruct me, sir ! 1 Fatal and dreadful. 94 TOO RLE. [ACT iv. Toorle. But we will be alone ? Ward. Yes, he's yet waiting trial so, ' alone.' And now I shall produce your man at once. Pardon ! [Exit. Toorle. Alas, poor Murray ! These high prison walls Though they be built and form'd as other walls, And are as walls insensate, neutral, dead Oppress me as the bounds of ' living tombs/ In which, in midnight dreams, so many times, I've been incarcerated and ' srew'd down,' And realized in thought the agonies Of those interr'd alive ! Re-enter WARDER, with MURRAY, whom he places in the Middle Partition of the CELL. Ward. (To MURRAY.) Go in ! A Visitor ! Mur. The devil ! Wha ? Toorle. Thy old friend, Murray me! Mur. (Astounded^) You ! My new an' beastly ane, ye mean ? Toorle. No ! I mean, in truth, the very friend thou need'st, If thou can'st only put thy faith in him, And take the remedy he brings thy need. (To the Warder^) Must thou remain ? Ward. Yes, but apart, thus far (Goes into the Third Division of the Cell.) In sight, but out of earshot. Talk away ! Mur. (To TOORLE.) Yer ' remedy?' What is it, ye reform'd fule, 1 or hypocrite ? 1 Fool. SCENE 7.] TOORLE. 95 I hate this hole sae ill that e'en fca.e you, Wha laid me in't, the key o't I could tak' ! Toorle. The only ' key ' I could, or would, give thee Would not unlock these doors and let thee out Into immediate and full liberty, But when once out, 'twould keep thee out alway If thou desired to darken them no more. Mur. ' Desired,' ye say ? My man ! ance let me out, And thae and a' the doors in Europe else, Micht stand until their turnkeys frae the mools x Rase up 2 an' dregg'd me throo them, neck an' heels, Before the tittle o' a crinch 3 o' me E'er darken'd them again ! But what's yer ' key ? ' Toorle. Its main ' ward ' is, my friend, that thou Shalt confess all in Court on Trial day, Relating to the crime upon the bridge. Mur. As to my pitchin' Lammie owre't, I fear, There's nae denying that ! but is that a' ? Toorle. No. Ward the second of thy prison key Is that thou'lt turn, and abjure drink for life ; The third to whisper audibly to me (The Warder cannot hear thee where he is) How Lammie's beeves were smit with Rinderpest. For that thou knowest, I know as well as thou !j Mur. And what micht hap me did I whisper ye ? Toorle. Once outside prison walls, life-long liberty, And opportunity to be again A useful, prosperous, and happy man ! Mur. Were I ance out ayont jile wa's 4 fareweel ! Fareweel for ever to the ' Land o' Cakes An' brither Scots,' indeed ! 1 Tombs. 2 Arose. 3 Small morsel. 4 Jail walls. 96 TOORLE. [ACT iv. Toorle. For where ? Tell me, and I might smooth thy way ? Mur. You ? Ye piebald puzzle ! The ' Far West's ' my bit War' I ance out tho' wives on hills cried ' No ! ' Toorle. Eureka ! This resolve jumps with my power As pat as parritch with a hungry hind! And for thy ' wife/ bold Cowboy, grieve thee none, She's covenanted as my household's queen, And all her ill's thyself ! Mur. Shoo ! let her gang We ne'er could 'gree thegither onywey ! x And a' else they'll hae ta'en to pey 2 my debts ? Toorle. Ay, everything ! thy very photo's ' ta'en,' That hung above the parlour mantelpiece ! But, Murray, with thy leave, and eke thy trust And fullest confidence in my integrity, Capacity, and willingness to help, Thou might'st yet graze in clover in the West ! Mur. Hoo ? Man ! I'se be beggar'd perfit 3 penni- less Tho' I gat out the morn. Toorle. That I know well ' But tho' I may not tell thee how to-day Thy reclamation's sure, if thou will have't Upon the four conditions I have named ? And emigrate unto the West for good ? And, out there, fill the berth I'll find for thee ? Mur. Considerin' what ye've dune 4 for Bell, my wife, I'se risk ye an' say yes an ye but say 1 Anyhow. 2 Pay. 3 Perfectly. 4 Done generously. SCENE 7.] TOORLE. 97 What kind o' berth ye mean, and I am pleased. Toorle. To buy wheat on commission, under one An old school-fellow of thine own, I think ? Mur. Thy last's thy best 1 Wha is he ? What's his name ? Toorle. William Brodie, Esquire, of St. Paul, And State of Minnesota, U.S.A. ; The now fast-rising New- World millionaire, The mightiest magnate, ev'n in all the West, And greatest grain exporter there, as well ; A Scoty of the Scots, a King of men, And younger brother of another King To wit, the present worthy Steward of Laigh-lea ! Mur. Ho, ho ! O, ho ! Sits the wind in that airt ? Dod, Toorle ! ye're a brick a Corner-stane, in fac' ! I see it a' ! your ' plan/ I see it a' ! Gae on ! I am your slave as sune's I'm out ! Toorle. That shall not be this week ! Mur. Dod ! I fear, no ! Nor for hoo lang, think ye ? Toorle. -.- I cannot tell. But look not for a sentence light, and bear't As a man should, whate'er its weight may be. Now, Lammie's cattle ? Ye infected them ? Mur. Thro' me they were be : accident before Yon sorry nicht on whilk I spak' to ye Whan coming frae the Market 'bout the maitter Half-fou 2 were we thinkin' an' speakin' wild ! Frae Campton to Scadfit the disease jamp. 3 Toorle. From Campton Hill to Scadfoot at a bound ! 1 By. a Half-drunk. 3 Leapt. G 98 TOORLE. [ACT iv. How was it done ? Mur. My Auntie Jean dee'd there, And, gaein' to her burial, I brang l back The nowte 2 -plague wi' me and that's a' I ken ! It pruved mair smittal than I'd bargain'd for ! But Laich-lea an' Scadfit are neebor ferms, 3 An' Lammie's sneerin' looks fair drave me gyte ! 4 There lat it rest an' ye hae blabbit nane ? Toorle. I am no blabber, Murray, tho' I thought I should have been so here, but will not now, As Lammie's oxen, in some natural way, Might possibly have caught the plague from thine Being not so far apart so let it drop. Bow- Wow's to visit thee (and a powerful Advocate, A very Jove and thunderer at law! Speak to him, Murray, freely tell him all) He is commission'd, and will work thee through Upon thy swift forthcoming trial day. Read, and digest, and sign if so it pleases thee His written legal statement of our pact. (Going out.} Mur. O ! wait a wee, say that ye'll come again ! Toorle. No, no. No need. Bow- Wow's our inter- agent An envoy slick as Reynard of the North, Fit for a go-between two emperors ! Serve out thy sentence only like a man, And I'll revisit thee to some effect Impossible till then. I am thy friend ! [Exit. Mur. A freend an' fae in ane unfaddomable ! Ward. (Rejoining Murray.) Now, come along ! Your latest moment's gone, 1 Brought. 2 Cattle. 3 Neighbour farms. 4 Mad. SCENE i.] TOO RLE. 99 And I must march ye back straightway again. \Exeunt. ACT V. SCENE I. The Hamlet of Kenaw. The Yard behind CHAPMAN'S smithy. Enter CHAPMAN and]ocK. Jock. ' Has ony body been here,' speir x ye, faither, ' sin' ye gaed awa' this mornin' ? ' The haill 2 parish. But let them be, they're a' weel awa ! Is Murray's trial a' owre already ? Did ye see him ? What's he gotten ? Ten years ? Mair ? 3 Chap. Stop, Jock, stop shut up ! My memory's no' a Sir Walter's ane, I ken ! sae yer last question first, Jock! He's gotten only three months' hard labour, for he confess'd to a' the crime he was chairged wi' the White Brig ane only. Efter the Indictment was read he raise 4 up i' th' dock atween twa bobbies an' pled guilty, wi' extainuawtin' circumstances, an' the folk near me said his plea had been acceptit be the Croun. Syne ane they ca'ed his Counsel, that his awgent Bow- Wow had ready forrit, 5 the Judge alloo'd to speak for the auld villain afore he gied him his sentence. An' that wee craitur ! A mune-licht shadow o' a man only ! But O, what a deevil, Jock ! The Court was jam fou, 6 an' he made us a' roar, an' sweir, 7 an' nicher, 8 an' greet be turns, 9 or a' at ance jist as he teuk it into his heid. 10 His speech at times 1 Enquire. 2 Entire. 3 More. 4 Rose. 5 Forward. 6 Packed full. 7 Swear. 8 Laugh loud and ridiculously. 9 Cry alternately. 10 Head. ioo TOORLE. [ACT v. rusht out o' the mou' x o' him like water out o' a tail dam, cairrying a' thing afore it be main force. The soom o't a' was that there had been a ten years' quarrel atween the pairties, an' tho' Lammie fell owre the brig at the end o't, what about it ? He wasna a hair the waur o' his doukin', 2 but, very likely, muckle the better o't seein' he was on his road frae a het Paroch'al boord meeting ! The Judge spak', tae, but a' that I heard him say was the sentence. Efter that, I left at ance, Jock, kennin' weel what wark was waitin' to be dune at hame. But wha think ye I forgethert wi' in Parlyment Square ? Ye'll ne'er guess ! Jock. O ! Maister Robin, maybe ? or maybe Maister Toorle ? Chap. No, no ! It bates a' ! Lord-have-a-care-o'- me ! A man I haena seen for a lifetime ! My auld Schule chum, Wullie Brodie frae Amairica ! He's here on a veesit, an' he tauld me on the sly he had timed it for his neice, Effie's mairriage, for she's to be spliced to Robin at last an' that deereckly, tae ! Jock. To Robin ! Hoo ? He fled in fear o' his faither's sequestration, e'en afore his stap-mither kill'd hersel'. Chap. The sequesterin' o' his faither was squash'd. Toorle, his best freend be mony a mile, cairried him safe past that bre'k-neck craig tae, I jalooze. God bless him ! for I like auld Lammie, an' young Robin even better, I ken ! Jock. Gosh, that's awfu' ! But whare is Robin ? An' whare's the waddin' to be at ? (Aside) Lord sen' mine sune ! O ! Peg ! Peg ! 1 Mouth. - Ducking. 3 Hot. SCENE i.] TOORLE. 101 Chap. Wullie loot 1 out to me that Robin's in Glesca, 2 an' daein' weel, 3 but he no said what at. The waddin's to be in Embro,' as it will fallow owre hard on the heels o' Robin's stappy's killie-shangie 4 to haud it dacently at Laich-lea. Wullie kindly askit us baith to the marriage, an' I, for ane, mean to honour that glor'us inveetawtion, I ken ! Jock. Ho-hoy ! Wullie's 'Uncle Sam' in fair sooth! 5 the 'Jonathan' for my money! They say he's made his fortune in America ? Gin 6 he has, I should say he deserves't a', tho' it be as big as a brewer's ev'ry penny ! But is that true, faither ? Chap. I no ken, Jock, but frae the kind, an' the lairge number o' the questions he pat to me about his billie, 7 an' Lammie, an' them a', I muckle jalooze that he has something made up an' stow'd in his noodle that sail astonish them. He is an awfu' laucher. 8 An' the waefu'er my tale was about the troubles o' his auld freends, dod ! the louder an' the langer grew his guffaws. 9 He has a bee in his bannet o' some sort, for naething could mak' a wise man merry owre the story o' the sorrows o' his freends but that an' I only hope it turn out a honey ane, I ken ! The lass Wullie was to get, Jock, lang, langsyne young Jeannie Hadden ! teuk 10 sudden ill an' dee'd, an' was actually buried on the vera day she was to hae been mairried to Wullie on ! Her death fair daver'd n him, an' before twa month had slippit bye, he had left Scotland for guid, 12 an' was awa, puir fallow, in the Far Wast o' 1 Let. 2 Glasgow. 3 Doing well. 4 Fatal catastrophe. 5 In real truth. G If. 7 Brother. 8 Laughter. 9 Shouts of laughter. 10 Took. n Dumbfounded. 12 Good. 102 TOO RLE. [ACTV. Amairica. Puir sowl ! But, my lad, this 'ill never do, bletherin' here ! Leave that infernal grubber, 1 an' let us baith flee at the horse-shae makin'. 2 Five sett afore nicht ! Efter that, crack as ye like. Toorle says he'll help ye to get the Lowes smiddy 3 that ye're sae keen for ! an' gif he does, ye'll win it, Jock I ken ! " Jock. O! ho! Better an' better ! (Aside.) If I get it, Peggy's mine yet ! She said ' Get a smiddy o' yer ain, an' wed me the morn ! ' \Exeunt. SCENE II. Laigh-lea. The parlour of LAMMIE'S house, sometime after the death of the second MRS LAMMIE. Enter LAMMIE and ToORLE. Lam. Jist that. She was a female, fauts 4 an' a', E'en like a pacer 5 at the hunt I've seen Shute 6 far before the field, but to play plap, An' break his neck in a dry ditch at last. Toorle. She had, I think, a high aspiring mind One somewhat bent to show and dignity ? Her friendship with the gay Nan Neil produced In her effects inimical, to her? Lam. I tell ye truly, man, I've lang thocht that, And noo, whan she's awa, I think it mair ! Be 7 nature she was prood an' domineering, But, tho' a' that, I still believe she was True-blue to me an' mine ? HE wasna there ! I hae for months been like a strandit eel, 1 A farm implement used for stirring up the soil. 2 Horse-shoe making. 3 Smithy. 4 Faults and all. 5 Fast horse. 6 Shoot. 7 By. SCENE 2.] TOO RLE. 103 But sure I am o' this He wasna there! Toorle. Robin ? Ye mean, Robin ? Lam. Robin of coorse ! I hear her 'death ' was in The daily an' the local papers baith, And surely he wad see't ? Let me speak, Toorle ! That ye're the dearest freend left me's as true As that ye are my queerest and my best, Be far awa, atweel ! I dinna joke I Toorle. Excuse me. What of Robin ? Keep to him. Lam. Weel ! what of him ? Whare is he ? Does he live ? 1 n wark ? Hale and healthy ? Single still, or mairried ? Is he in exile, or in Scotland yet ? I ken ye ken a' that, an' I matin ken't, Because I dinna ken't wha best should ken't ! O, Toorle ! I am a faither even yet ! Sae swithly l let me ken, O ! let me ken ! Toorle. O, Yes ! All these but two neither exiled nor wed ! But, singularly, in St. Mungo's,' 2 singly he waits The near end of his singleness with joy ! Lam. O, I am born again ! I'm just anither man ! Is he in full employment say ye, sir ? He should go for the horse tredd 3 straucht at ance ! I never saw his mate, or follower, At either bre'kin'-in or riding them ! Toorle. Who hath ? (For that more urgent matters wait, Be it enough, meantime, to know he's well.) I've seen the Laird again, and met the creditors, And every item of my ' scheme ' have gain'd ! 1 So quickly. 2 Glasgow. 3 Trade in horses. 104 TOO RLE. [ACT v. So, only, now, the last formalities, Which Sterne and Bow-Wow jointly have in hand, Await thy master eye and final ' Yea,' And indispensable and honour'd name. Lam. O ! Toorle ! Toorle ! I Toorle. All right ! But tap not thou thy gratitude Ere knowing what in time thou need'st must know, In case thy thanks thou measurest me unduly ! Time flies ! {glancing at his watch.} Therefore, and in one word, tell me If, from thy long flown years, thou still retain'st A memory of a poor born gentleman, A brother of thy steward, who, in's youth, From mishaps here, went to America, And their, to all old friends, became as lost ? Lam. Do ye mean Willie Brodie ? Guid-sake, man ! He was my lademan 1 at The Mills for years Lang or 2 he ever saw, or dream'd to see, The stars an' stripes flaffowre a stick o' his, Far less his Riggin-tree ! 3 Is't him ye mean ? Toorle. The Man ! A millionaire ! He's paying now A well-earn'd visit to his native scenes. Lam. 'A millionaire!' Frae time to time, indeed, Auld Rob has haver'd 'bout his billie's 4 luck, His mickle prairie ferms, and ither specs, But tentless, 5 I jist loot him claver 6 on, Esteemin' a' his yairns but Yankee Yeast Unworthy Rob's belief an' Scots sagacity. Toorle. So, so. He's back, and is with Robin now. 1 Miller's carter. 2 Ere, here. 3 Roof-tree. 4 Brother's. 8 Careless. 6 Gossip. SCENE 2.] TOORLE. 105 Lam. Wi' Robin, say ye ? Lord-sake man ! whare at? Toorle. In their own Office on the banks of Clyde, Mayhap discounting bills like Chancellors, For ship-loads of their last imported wheat. Lam. ' Imported wheat ! ' What wheat ? Sir, mock me not ! Robin ne'er importit, nor exportit either, The value o' a flae * o' onything ! Toorle. Ah! dimes and dollars! How thou wrong'st thy son ! Why, by their last transactions, I compute, They must have netted many thousand pounds, And Robin's share's a fourth ! Lam. What ' Robin's share ? ' A ' fowr'th ' o' what ? o' mony thousan' pounds ? ' Toorle. He's Brodie's partner in the third degree, And Managing Director over here. Lam. His'pairtner' an 'deerector!' Robin Lammie ? Is it my son ye mean ? my Robin Lammie ? He was my partner and deerector baith, Wae sucks ! in but a vain an' buitless task Fechtin' to mak' ends meet for mony years, That could but sunder, sunder, mair, an' mair, Wider an' wider, as the years row'd bye ! My boy was ever clever heid' an' hauns 2 But what ye hint at was abune 3 his flicht, As far as ' Hamlet ' was abune yon bard's That wrote ' Great Scott ! ' an' dee'd a bedlamite ! Toorle. Alas ! alas ! But justice deny none. I think the ' cleverest,' and the noblest, too, 1 Flea. 2 Smart with head and hands. 3 Beyond. io6 TOO RLE. [ACTV. Are they who turn their ills inevitable Into real blessings for themselves and kind, As Robin aims to do is doing fast ! Lam. As hoo ? O, Toorle, tell me hoo, or I will dee ! l Toorle. That were too long a song. Nor is this hour The fittingest to choose for thee to hear't Or me to chant its theme so gay with joy ! But the glad air and purport of the paean, To stay thy fret and premature decease, I may croon briefly here, all by ourselves, And let thee live ? know, then, this golden king, Thy quondam ' lademan ' from Columbia Who was the ' friend-in-need ' once to my Dad, And long-time correspondent of mine own When on a visit to his brother here, A many years ago, 2 told me, in chat, About the boundless wheat-lands of the West, And of the certainty that soon they would O'erwhelm our cereal markets with a flood Of farm-stuff importations, whose prime worth, Low price, and plenteousness illimitable, Would sink ours to despair. Lam. And richt was he My auld meal-man was richt, for they hae dune't 3 Already to a deepness that's droun'd hope ! Toorle. ' Hope ' of a sort. Well, this way lying fate, Brodie foresaw in it a plum for one Who had the wherewithal to ripen it, And bluntly show'd it me, who, pat that time, Had fallen on Grandam's lucky legacy, So, straightway, in my glee, I halved with him, 1 Die. a See Ante, Act II. Scene IV. 3 Have done it. SCENE 2.] TOO RLE. 107 Upon this certain pact that, as 'twas trade, Which, if successful, would sheer ruin crowds And mutual friends he would its profits share With two home ones I named, and he agreed, And sign'd the Deed of Partnerslnp Bow-Wow (Whose brother Jeremiah's in St. Paul) Drew up in legal style and terms secure. Lam. That cowes cud ! l Is't safe to speir 2 wha 'twas ye named ? Toorle. It can harm no one now whoever knows, One of them was then a boy, a son of thine, Far and wide known as ROBIN LAMMIE now THE CHAMPION SWORDSMAN, TOORLE'S ONE GODSON ! Who, by this happy hit, hath saved this house From bankruptcy, and ills incomprehensible By all save those who suffer them, and sink ! The other's but a ' sleeping partner ' me ! Lain. The ' stang d tJie trump] I'd freely s weir on aith! But Robin, man ! my runawa' scapegrace ! (Aside.} His mither's hest, gien wi' her dying breath, was just ! ' Never, be ivord or deed, gang eer against him ! ' It's fair mirawculous ! (Aloud.) Say hoo ye're ca'd, 3 And what ye tredd 4 in ? I'm feart it's a' a dream ! Toorle. (Reads from a large circular.) ' Brodie and Lammie, Wheat and Flour SJiippirs of Milwaukie and St. Paul, United States, And Liverpool and Glasgow, on This side.' Lam. Lord ! lord ! Brodie an' Lammie my ain bairn ! 1 Beats everything. - Ask. :! How the firm is named ? 4 Trade. io8 TOO RLE. [ACT v. Toorle. Out West, our interest solely is, in trade, To purchase in the richest regions, wheat, And ship it to this country, or elsewhere, Then sell it in the dearest markets found. Lam. Ye'se hae big lafts * out there ? Toorle. ' Big lafts ' indeed ! Our Elevators, sir, and Grinding mills, Both at Milwaukie and St. Paul, take up An area vaster than do over here Three market towns three country towns like Fraiks With bleaching greens, kailyairds, duck-ponds, and all ! Lam. Preserve us a' ! But what does Robin do ? What's his partic'lar Glesca wark, 2 ava ? Toorle. The sale of all the imports of our Firm To push and supervise, to draw our dues, And to dispose of these for our joint good. Lam. An' can he dae't? 3 Toorle. Well, he's been learning long. Lam. Whare at ? Wha with ? Toorle. At Deanhaugh, with myself. Lam. Ho! braid day-licht bre'ks on me! I've ferlied 4 lang What wey he gaed sae aft at e'en to you ! But ye were funnin', 5 surely, whan ye spak' O' my auld lademan as a ' mill'onaire ? ' Toorle. No. Fiend a 'fun!' In your own pithy Scots, Is it not true, impromtu fashion, that Nature, ever, noo-an'-than, 6 Grows saucy an stravagie, And brings furth dwerfs or giant men, Her dour lord Fate to plague aye ? 1 Stores ; granaries. 2 Glasgow employment. 3 Do it. 4 Wondered. 5 Jesting. 6 Occasionally. SCENE 2.] TOORLE. 109 With Tammy Thooms l she sands 2 her flure 3 Her roof spires wi' Goliaths ; Hence Shakespeare's, iinlike snoots , 4 are rare, In a' life's roads an bye-paths ! Wastrels be plentier than thrifts, And Murray s than Carnegie s ; Godsons like mine are Heaven's gifts, And Brodiejist its Staig 5 is ! But halt, O halt ! This stuff's no requiem for departed souls ! Wherefore, at o'nce, I'm off! An revoir ! Until the morrow at that Sale, which will Tear down, and scatter utterly and aye, The old beloved nest where Younger hatch'd, And whence, full-fledged, he flew to Paradise, To lark it evermore enfranchised, free ! Lam. A wauchty laverock, 6 truly ! Far mair like A burly barn-yaird cock amang his hens ! But whare's yer gig gif sae ye maun be aff ? Toorle. In the safe cutody of Johnny Kaim, Thy crowherd, at the door. Trust on in me. This part thy Laird's estate is not entailed ! See through a ladder, and Trust on in me ! \Exit. Lam. ' Trust on in him ? ' Altho' to say it be profainity, Wi' a' his funny quirks and unconess, 7 For either foresicht, hardihood, or skeel, 8 I'd trust in Toorle afore John Knox himsel' ! {Exit. 1 Tom Thumbs. 2 Dusts. 3 Floor. 4 Dull, tame fellows. 8 Primier one. 6 Bulky ; heavy skylark. 7 Eccentricity. 8 Courage, or wisdom. no TOO RLE. [ACTV. SCENE III. The public road in front of Laigh-lea Cottages. A group of agitated women and children. Enter to them ToORLE, gig whip in hand. Toorle. (Aside.} Behold thy source, O Man of Woman born ! (Aloud.} What in the name of Heaven ails ye here ? The Crowd. Daft Davie! Puir Daft Davie, Maister Toorle ! He's lost sin' yesterday ! Enter VAE. Toorle. How was he lost ? Vae. O, sir ! he's no' been seen sin' yestermorn ! He gat his bre'kast than, in his auld wey, An' syne gaed pappin out, 1 an' frae that hour The fient a haet or hair o' him's been seen, Tho' ilka 2 gate's been saucht, 3 an' saucht again ! Toorle. San n ox Wood ? Hath High San n ox Wood been search'd ? Vae. That's ten mile aff ! What, sir, wad tak' him there ? Toorle. His old-time craze. To see the falling trees, Which now the foresters are felling there. Stand off! I'll go myself! I have my gig. Cheer up ! I'll hunt him out, and bring him back, Or perish, having fail'd ! [Exit. Vae. The Lord's ain sel' sail fend that matchless man ! He's far owre sib 4 to Him to fail in aucht, 5 An' mair, mair sae in this ! \Exennt. 1 Went sauntering slowly out. 2 Every. 3 Sought. 4 Near in kin. 5 Aught. SCENE 4.] TOORLE. in SCENE IV. Kenaw. CHAPMAN'S back yard. JOCK at work. Enter TOORLE, hurriedly, to him. Toorle. Jock, Jock ! I've seen the Laird ! Lowes smiddy's thine ! Jock. 'Od sir, never ! Peg's lost her last excuse, An' canna pit our waddin' back wan day ! ! x Toorle. No ! She told me so herself that she'll be ready, Whenever Mary Blythe and Effie are ! Jock. O guidness ! did she ? I kenn'd that wald 2 was sure As sune's the tings 3 were ta'en in hand be you ! Toorle. A married man the Blacksmith of The Lowes Whose wife's a belle, whose shop's a mine of wealth ! ! Jock! dare ye follow me to save a friend ? Jock. Ay ! to Jerooselem an' back again, To save a taedf Owls. 6 Linnets. 7 Porridge. 8 Blacksmith. 9 A wooden vessel for holding sufficient porridge for two. 10 Don't. SCENE 6.] TOORLE. 113 Here's cheese, baps, 1 snaps, and butter'd scones and cakes, 2 Eat and rejoice all in the basket's thine ! (To Jock.} Fetch round the gig, my love. We'll hurl him home, As soon's his famine's fought and put to flight. Jock. Nae easy maitter, 3 judging be 4 his bites ! But I'se sune bring the gig the Wood-cart-track Jist rins out-bye that thicket. Bide 5 ye a-wee ! [Exit. Toorle. Care, Davie, care ! The human paunch hath bounds! Thou'lt have a colic worse than e'er rack'd Griz 6 An thou devour'st a single morsel more ! Re-enter JOCK. (DAFT DAVIE ceases eating and falls asleep.} Jock. The trap's out there. O lord, sir, hoo he snores ! He'd snort our bellowses at Kenaw dumb ! Toorle. He would ! but, dear beloved, hurry up ! Take thou his head, I'll take the end that pains ; The Braes' Sale holds, and I must run for it ! Jock. I ken ! But I could drive him hame to Vae, Whiles cannily ye took the Short Cut back ? Toorle. Perfection thy invention crowns again, Though my necessity did mother it ! \Exeunt carrying DAFT DAVIE. SCENE VI. The Braes Farm- yard. Implements laid out for rouping} Many people going about. Sale proceeding at the far end of the yard. 1 Loaves. 2 Home made bread. 3 Matter. 4 By. 5 Stay ; wait. 6 His old housekeeper. 7 Selling by auction. H ri4 TOORLE. [ACT v. Enter LAMMIE and HUGH YOUNGER, conversing. Lam. Nae doubt it's vera sad. Wae, wae is me, To see a' this ! But he'll be here himsel' He tauld me when I saw him yesterday Speak o' the deil, and up he jumps aff-hand ! Enter TOORLE. Hugh. (To TOORLE.) I think a heap o' your advise- ments, sir, And thank ye muckle for them that I do ! Lam. Hae ye heard onything o' puir Daft Davie ? Hugh. Is Maister Brodie to be here the day ? Enter CHAPMAN. Chap. (To TOORLE.) Jock's daft about his smiddy 1 at The Lowes, An' thinks nae mair o' Kenaw noo than dirt ! Ye are his sworn king, an' Peg's his queen, And wife for life, come Mary's waddin' 2 day ! Lam. Were ye at Sannox seeking puir Daft Davie ? An' saw or heard ye naething o' him, sir ? ! answer this, afore a' else 'enoo ! Toorle. Daft Davie's in his warm bed at home, Sleeping, and snoring so, the wonder is Ye have not heard him here ! Lam. Jist what I said ! ' Gif mortal man ava 3 can bring him hame.' 1 tauld his granny, ' Toorle is his name!' [Exeunt LAMMIE and CHAPMAN. Toorle. Joy makes him, like the young, poetical. Hugh. And grief keeps me, grown auld, prosaical. 1 Smithy. 2 Wedding. 3 At all. SCENE 6.] TOO RLE. 115 Toorle. That does or should not follow in thy case In the full pith and prime of manhood yet ? Where are thy brothers now ? Hugh. In Edinboro'. Baith John an' Will are driving cabs, but Tarn's A mason's hod-man, till it's time to sail An' set our rig-gin' for America Gif 'twas the rale and vera truth ye wrate Sae kindly to me, jist the 'tither day ? Toorle. It was, indeed, the real and honest truth. Hugh. I canna guess your motive for't ava For us strangers amaist 1 even to your een ! 2 Toorle. No matter. Ye are down, and are the sons, The ruin'd offspring of as true a man As ever yet did honour Scottish soil The noble man who was my father's friend, When he was lower fallen than ye are now, Or e'er can be though Satan tramp ye down ! But I'm as but the servant of another The chance-selected servant-deputy Thy real benefactor draweth nigh, Nay, he is here ! Enter WILLIAM BRODIE. W. Brodie. Morning, my friends ! Toorle. Morning, Great President ! This is the gentleman himself, my Chief, Whom I suggested as a likely Scot, And fit Home Minister prospectively To sway the vast, or ' boundless,' prairie lands, That claim thee king and Owner in the West ! 1 Almost. 2 Eyes. n6 TOORLE, [ACT v. Toorle. (Acting as Peace-maker?) (B ROD IE and HUGH shake hands heartily?) Shake hands, old foes ! new friends before ye know ! For, though old foes in School wars long- ago, Old foes fast friends for life mostly become When they do meet as old stocks, grave and glum ! Adieu, dread lords, five jerks ! no more ! and then. Been gone so long why, I'll return amain. [Exit. Hugh. I mind o' us, atweel, at Fraiks' auld schules, And faigs, we were, 1 in sooth, twa brawlin' fules ! And yet ye'd fleech 2 my billies 3 three an' me, To join ye in the Wast, 4 your ' Helps ' to be ? Sich generosity dumfounders folk. And chokes their thanks ere ever they be spoke ! W. Brodie. An ancient enemy, new reconciled, May be more hurtful than a foe still wild, If he in zeal be friendlier than true Appraising as a ' gift ' what's but his due. Hugh. My ' due ! ' Hoo can that be ? W. Brodie. Why, don't you know, That what I offer now is but repaying, By farthings, what I once received in pounds From your lamented, hero-hearted father ? Knew you not this at all before, my friend ? Hugh. No never no ! Your tale's as strange to me As Jonah's is but, ablins, jist as true ? W. Brodie. To us even more so a literal truth, No allegoric yarn unneeding proof But for this scene, 'tis rather personal, So, fitter place and hour the ' tale ' must wait ? 1 And faith, we were. " Coax. 3 Brothers. 4 West. SCENE 6.] TOO RLE. 117 Well, then, suffice it now to indicate, I never could have struck New York itself, Far less those world-feeding- Western plains A heaven of hope on earth for struggling man ! But for thy father's timely, happy help, And priceless counsel, given me when down ! l Hugh. But I aye thaucht 2 'twas Toorle 'freendit ye, As, 'deed, he 'freends 3 maist a' he comes across, Needin' an' willin' to let him befreend ? W. Brodie. Toorle, latterly, and in a style that only Toorle, With his long-sightedness and headedness, Inventiveness, and pluck plus ' Granny's ' pouch ! Could ever dare or, daring, do and thrive. Without thy sire, I ne'er had seen the West, And, but for Toorle, ne'er had prosper'd there. These are the simple facts, my friend, and so, If ye embrace my aid, inform Bow- Wow to-night. Hugh. I do ! I do! And haena 4 words for thanks ! W. Brodie. Wall ! Sail your whole crowd 5 with me, I know the way Re-enter TOORLE, abruptly, and taking the word from BRODIE. Toorle. Right to the Glory of the Occident, As well's the Daily Sun, who pilgrims there Seven times a week, in fiery, love-lorn haste, Being all unable, by one single hour, To stay one fated journey back again ! Hugh. I hae ta'en Maister Brodie's proffer, sir. 1 Destitute. 2 Always thought. 3 Befriends ; assists. 4 Have not. 5 Party. 1 1 8 TOO RLE. [ACT v. Toorle. Ha ! These words do come as needed rescuers ! They catch and bring me back from West to East, From Heaven to Earth, from Poetry to Prose, Prompt as the fowler's shot upon the Bass 1 Brings down the Solan goose 2 from middle air ! But, nathless, Hugh, I've left for gratulation (Which from my inmost heart I tender now), Enough of life and feeling still for thee ! But / have tidings too ! For, look ye, boys, Our circuit postman hath just pass'd along, And, by request, my budget he brought here. W. Brodie. Anything from Glasgow, or from Robin ? Toorle. Yes ! Three for thee, and thirty-three for me, From Glasgow, and the poor world lying round, As far as Timbuctoo. (Looks at his letters.} Lammie sits again ! And sits secure henceforth as Stirling Brig ! Laigh-lea is sold ! 'tis his, and heirs', for ever ! Sing Halleeloojah, O my soul ! (Reads) Stamp Edinboro' ' ? One from Effie ? Ten thousand Halleeloojahs! ! The Wedding Day is fix'd ! The Eighteenth Next ! ! W. Brodie. (Looking at his correspondence.) The St. Andrew Ocean Liner, ' Scotia,' Our Water Chariot to the Golden West, Will, swan-like, from Her Clyde HowrT, move, upon The stroke of Three, Next day, Nineteenth of June ! Day following Wedding One ! and Murray's freed Good time for that ! 1 The famous island-rock in the Firth of Forth. - The Gannet. SCENE 6.J TOORLE. 119 Re-enter CHAPMAN. Toorle. Chapman ! Day breaks, old boy, And from a night of Purgatorial shades, Into a firmament of Heaven-like hues, Where only larks and balmy breezes sing Harmoniously with glad humanity, Our Old World bursts at last ! Therefore, Vulcan, Back to thy Cave cyclopic, Jock forewarn That, on the Eighteenth Instant, must He wed Himself to Peg, or rust, forsworn, for ever ! Chap. The Auchteenth June! that's auld 'Waterloo Day' The day my puir auld faither fechtin' x fell Toorle. Why ! So it is ! The hallow'd anniversary ! But all the better ! For, if, on that day, Thy warring father fell, thy loving son May fitly rise to compensate his loss, Begetting Chapmans fresh for future fights, In right accord with Man's and Nature's laws ? Away, away ! Give Jock the day and date, All else is pre-arranged and settled square. [Exit CHAPMAN. Re-enter LAMMIE. Toorle. (To Lamtnie, giving him a letter.) Read that, my friend, at once ! Hugh. (To W. Brodie.} I shall be ready, sir. Hae ye nae doubts. W. Brodie. Within my sister's house, at two, Upon the eighteenth of the current month, All four prepared to sail with me next day ? 1 Fighting. I2O TOO RLE. [ACT v. Hugh, Ay, ay, sir. I hae't be hairt, 1 a' safe an' sure. \Exit. Lam. (Returning letter.) O Toorle ! I canna speak ! O pardon me ! I maun gae hame I daurna blubber 2 here ! I ken baith time an' place I'se see ye there. [Exit crying and muttering thanks. W. Brodie. (To Toorle .) By Jove! Thou'st managed yare to play life's cards, Not for thyself alone, but friends, as well ! But let us hence : Our ' business ' being done, Here everything I see gives grief fresh life ! [Exeunt. SCENE VII. A room in the Goat's Head Inn of Fraiks. Enter MARY and TOORLE, hand in hand. Mary. Yes, ye gowk ! 3 But were ye at the Roup? 4 Toorle. That's where I got the letters, I am here Now to announce the glorious import of. This Inn is sold, I heard. And that is well. Mary. It ne'er wad sell, but for the gentleman You found to buy it, at Dad's ' upset price ! ' Toorle. Where is thy Daddy, Moll ? Can't I see him ? Mary. No. He's to the City gone about the Inn Transferring o' the licence o't, I think. But what's the matter ? Everything is ready ? Toorle ! What will the people say ? or think ? We twa hae run ' love's course ' sae unco 5 ' smooth,' 1 Have got it by heart. 2 Cry childishly. 3 Cuckoo ; fool. 4 Sale by auction. B So very. SCENE 7.] TOORLE. 12 T I dinna ken if there be mair than Dad, Outside oursel's, that evenjalooze 1 the truth ? Toorle, Yes, there are some. Chapman's one, I'm sure ! But from that eager ferret aught of me Naught less than death could hide. Mary. But he's a friend ? Toorle. I know no enemies but Mary Blythe, A sad fatality, but there she is, My inexorable and life-long plague ! Mary. That's so, for mony days ! Since Barleycorn Ye gave the slip sae snell ! 2 My love ! my love ! Ye are a hero, and a man to trust, And I maun say't, or my fou 3 heart wad burst ! [He embraces and kisses her warmly. I shall be forward on the eighteenth day If I but breathe, tho' armies bar my way ! Enter JESSIE. Jessie. (To Toorle.} A dress'd gentleman at the Bar speirs 6 for ye, sir. Toorle. O ! It will be Brodie. I'd clean forgot our tryst ! (To Jessie.} Tell him I'm coming, Jessie, and take this. Buy ribbons wi't : Please Richie, by all means ! Jessie. O, thank ye, sir ! mony, mony thanks, atweel ! [Exit. Toorle. Ta-ta, Queen May ! I shall return ere night. [Exit. Mary. He's gone ! Tis ' night ' already ! Sol hath set And ' night ' remains until he rise again ! [Exit. 1 Surmise. 2 'Determinedly.' 3 Full. 4 Asks. 122 TOO RLE. [ACT v. SCENE VIII. Edinburgh. A large room in MRS BRAIDHEAD'S House. Many seats, and a table, with decanters and glasses on it. Enter MRS BRAIDHEAD and MRS MURRAY. Mrs B. Was ever sich anither opery l seen ? Lord-have-a-care-o's-a' ! a three-fauld waddin' ! Surely the yird 2 will be ' replenished ' noo. Baith tap an' underground ! Three three at ance ! Twa o' them, weel eneuch, the ither ane, 3 Of folk in middle life Mrs M. But worth past telling! Natives o' 'Heaven baith returning hame Wham Mercy lent this hole ca'd yearth a wee ! Whan come they frae the Royal ? 4 Mrs B. O, this meenit ! Doctor Saunt Cuthbert was the only Clerk 5 Thaucht braid eneuch 6 for Toorle or his freends. Losh, Belly ! there's their cabs and carriages, The haill three sett ! wood an mairried an a' ! Our auld-warld stairs bore 7 never sich a croud ! Enter The Treble Wedding Party from the Royal Hotel TOORLE and MARY, ROBIN and EFFIE, and JOCK and PEGGY, arm-in-arm who all shake hands with MRS B. and MRS M. ; then, singly, LAMMIE, tJie brothers BRODIE, CHAPMAN, the brothers YOUNGER, WOODY, WHITEY, DAFT DAVIE, VAE, and many other friends and acquain- tances of the newly-wedded parties, who all seat themselves merrily. 1 Ado. 2 Earth. 3 Other one. 4 Royal Hotel 5 Clergy- man. 6 Thought broad enough. 7 Carried. SCENE 8.] TOO RLE. 123 Mrs B. (A little confused^ I think, Mr Toorle, ye should stand up an' speak ? Toorle. (To MRS B.). All here ? D. Dame. Awm doun here, Maister Toorle ! Aw want to speak to you. Div ye ken what Aw've gotten ? Toorle. No, Davie. What is it ? D. Davie, Ah, ha, lud ! Aw've gotten frae Maister Brodie, the Yanky, a praisint o' little Johnny Kaim 1 an' a wee powney, 2 to ca' me a' gates a' ma life to see a' the whupping big trees fa'. Aw'll g\e you a ride, sir, dinna be feart. Dinna greet ! Toorle. I know all that, Davie. But be quiet now. I'll give you a brand new gig if you do ! D. Davie. For naething ? Aw hivna muckle siller to spare 'enoo. Tredd's vera slack. For naething, sir? Toorle. Of course. But, Davie, mum's the word the only price to buy the new gig. Silence ! Not another cheep, I say ! D. Davie. Mum ! Shut up, Daft Davie ! Mum-m-m ! Vae. (To Toorle}. Nae fear o'm noo, sir. Davie wad be dumb E'en on a New Year's Day, gif ye but askit him. Toorle. (To the Whole Party). Friends, having got this length, I ask our Boss To put his further purposes in words. W. Brodie. Time is so short we must not speak, but act. Toorle. Speak first, that we may act, and rightly act, Knowing our aims, else acts are worse than sloth. 1 Lammie's boy groom and crow herd. a Pony. 3 Don't cry. 124 TOO RLE. [ACTV. If time be brief, why, Captain, clip thy words To match the time, and us thy awkward squad ! W. Brodie. Then, I'll be brief indeed ! One hour to train ! So by the board all olden ceremonies Must we sweep now, and those cleped ' up to date/ ' Hurry ' and ' worry,' and ' confusion wild,' Snatch up as substitutes, and run our ways ! To-morrow, all my party sail from Clyde ! Bright, in our good ship's peak, the star of hope Will guide us forward to the glorious West ! The Brothers Younger go ; and Murray goes Mrs. M. (Aside). Reclaim'd by ane 1 wham Tarn, himsel' reclaim'd ! W. Brodie. From death to life, from bonds to liberty, From penury and care to rowth 2 and joy ! And there sits he, the Magian on my right Whose wonder-bearing mind this marvel grows ! Toorle. No, friends ! It was his money, not my mind \ Lam. (to Toorle.} Wha saved my faimily an' me but you ? Robin. Who built the Palace that is mine this day ? Effie. Who aided as a father those I love, And's been a life-long blessing to myself? Mrs M. Wha ran into yon Dungeon-den o' shame, 3 An' pluckit like a Christ a Saul fra' hell ? Wha cam' to ane, all thowless and forfairn, 4 And set her on a couch of honour'd ease ? Chap. Wha fand 5 ane wark whan fermers failit him, 1 One. 2 Abundance. 3 Calton prison. 4 Helpless and forsaken. 5 Procured. TOO RLE. 125 An' peyd his aim-merchant's l bills twice owre ? Whitey. Wha to the College pat 2 our Pate but you ? Or, whan he left, gat him his Kirk in Fife ? Woody. Wha for the ploomen spak' an' wrate 3 for years, An' redd up 4 at the last their sair complents? 5 Jock. Wha spak' up to the Laird an' gat for me The smiddy o' The Lowes the best on airth ? An' wha, in a' the warld but yersel', Wysed 6 Peg to come an' mairry me this day ? D. Davie. Wha cam' to Sannox whan I lost masel' An' tummult 7 owre the craig 8 an' spreen'd 9 ma cuit? 10 Wha saucht a' nicht an' fand n me out at last, Syne cramm'd me fou o' snawps an' brang 12 me hame ? Aw'll sing a sang to him, or onything ! Vae. No, Davie ! Ye maunna sing the noo. D. Davie. Efter crowdie time ? 13 Aw'm like the cats, Aw aye sing ma finest efter Aw've ta'en ma tammy, 14 Vae ! Toorle. If I had had an inkling of this storm, Without a doubt I'd been prepared for it By giving it the go-bye many leagues ! And if our social weather-glass portend Its least renewal, wonder not if I Also become a ' hope-starr'd ' voyager. And join our Yeomen party to the West ! D. Davie. Eh, ay ! an' Aw'll gang tae ! Yanky Brodie tells me he kens o' trees out there far bigger 1 Iron-merchant's. 2 Put. 3 Wrote. 4 Settled satisfactorily. 5 Sore grievances. 6 Coaxed ; wiled. 7 Tumbled. 8 Crag. 9 Sprained. 10 Ankle. n Discovered. 12 Brought. 13 Supper time. u Meals ; food. 126 TOO RLE. [ACT v. than Scott's muckle moniment, a' to be poo'd doun deerectly, sir ! O gang, sir, gang ! Toorle. When I do go, my boy shan't stay behind, But in the Californian Bush will see Tremendous giants fall tremendously Trees thicker than The Bass, and twice as high ! D. Davie. Wull they no fa' this len'th ? Toorle. Not just. But, now Go for the gig, my son, by keeping mum. Mrs B. Ben i' th' dining room athort x the transe 2 For a' that like, a rowthy 3 snack 4 is spread ! W. Brodie. No time to gorge the cabs are at the door. Toorle. And legions of the Arabs yell for us! (Many voices, without, shouting ' Times up ! ' ' Come on ! ' ' Pour out ! ' etc.} W. Brodie. Our final parting feast will fitter fill Our real farewell hours aboard our ship. Violet and Davie, you go home, I hear ? The pony and the trap are both despatch'd, And will be at Laigh-lea before yourselves. Toorle. Then all are ready ? Jock. Ay, ay, sir ! We are ready, ilka ane, But let me sing, before we start again, A blaud I forged yestreen, an' turn'd it round As weel's a prentice bardie, I'll be bound ! (Steps forward and sings his song, in the chorus of which the others heartily join .) 1 Across. 2 Passage. 3 Plenteous. 4 Luncheon. SCENE 8.] TOO RLE. 127 Behauld our three brides in a raw ! What on yearth is fairer than they ? And a' as blythesome as braw 1 True brides in bridal array ! Sweet Effie, an' Mary, an' Peg Their maiks 2 Auld Reekie ne'er held ! Nane either sae gash or sae gleg, 3 Or needin' that less to be tell'd ! 4 A' woo'd and married and a', Woo'd and married and a', What ony fule-coof 5 could hae sworn, A' woo'd and married and a' ! For the bridegrooms that's ablins 6 nae joke, Nae man can forecast his ain fate ; As for me, Peg says I'm a brock, 7 And my lare's 8 doun in Bedlam Estate ! 9 Yet the hizzie is bolted to me, As sure as the stilt's to a pleuch ! 10 Nae mair to be lowsed till we dee Whilk likely will be lang eneuch ! u Baith woo'd and married and a' Woo'd and married and a', Waldit and clinkit l2 for life, E'en woo'd and married and a' ! Some gallants hae little to do Whan wooin' and winnin' their joes, 13 But Peg she sae prickit love's shoe, Our courtin' ran lame to its close ! Whyles u she ' but to hae me aff-haun,' Whyles ' she wadna wed for a Croun,' Or vow'd ' tho' she wantit a MAN, She wantit nae JOURNEYMAN LOON ! ' Noo she's woo'd and married and a' ! I'm a boss and married and a' ! Nae 'wanter' nor 'journeyman ' noo We're woo'd and married and a' ! 1 Richly Dressed. 2 Equals. 3 Shrewd, or so lively. 4 Told. 5 Silly fool. 6 Perhaps. 7 Badger ; a rough customer. 8 End ; destiny. 9 The Mad-house property. 10 Plough. 11 Enough. 12 Riveted. 13 Sweethearts. 14 Sometimes. i28 TOORLE. [ACT v. There's Robin and Effie, but, wow ! Wha wonders at THEIR waddin' bells ? They could learn the Grand Turk hoo to woo, Sae lang they've been at it themsel's ! As baabies, 1 the first kiss o' love They poutit, syne pree'd 2 it, I ween, Like twa chubby cherubs above At play on the Paradise green ! Noo woo'd and married and a', Woo'd and married and a', In spite o' black Hornie 3 and Fortune, They're woo'd and married and a' ! And big-hearted Toorle and Mary ! Gin 4 guidness 5 can gie them a hame, My sang ! THEY winna miscairry In their ha's 6 in the PALACE o' FAME ! For gifts, and graces thegither, They're the King and the Queen o' us a' : And a ' COUPLE ' ye'll find nae sic ither, Tho' ye hunt frae Doon Hill 7 to Scad Law ! Weel woo'd and married and a', Woo'd and married and a', My heart is like burstin' to see us A' woo'd and married and a' ! (After JOCK'S song tlie large company spontaneously strike up ' Auld Lang Syne,' and are singing it as the curtain falls.} 1 Infants. 2 Tasted. 3 The devil. 4 If. 6 Goodness. 6 Halls. 7 The celebrated hill and old battle-ground near Dunbar. OTHER PIECES. THE LION HILL. 1 THE Hill that for a warld's age hath worn The semblance of our Lion 2 in its croun, And twa millenniums hath it here upborne (The truest diadem of Caledon, And glory of her first richt royal toun) The type of Scotia's wally mountain race, The breed of Bannockburn, sire and son, Wha, true unto themsel's, keep premier place, As this symbolic Hill, whilk naething doth efface. 1 Arthur's Seat, Edinburgh. 2 The resemblance of the summit of Arthur's Seat to a resting or ' sleeping ' lion, is, from some points of view, very sttiking, and from no other part is it more so, I think, than from the Public road to Portobello below Jock's Lodge. Coming city-ward recently atop one of the tram-cars, I drew the attention of an intelligent English gentleman with whom I was conversing to this fact, and asked him what he thought of it. Looking quickly up at the hill, and noticing for the first time, as he informed me, the remarkable leonine likeness, he excitedly exclaimed ' Ah ! Oh ! A lion it is, and no mistake ! The most astonishing and most exact pre- sentment of an animal in nature ' (rock, etc.) ' I ever witnessed, or ever heard of ! Why, sir, that one wonder up there, I reckon, is worth coming twenty times from Land's End to see ! Yes, it is another Scotch lion, and the greatest of all the infernal multitude of them ! ' I 1 30 OTHER PIECES. Bang ! frae Earth's veriest bottoms to the lift, Bursting like ragweed 1 adamantine bands, 2 Behold, young Scotland, thine immortal gift, Thy fated and fit emblem 'mongst the lands, Fashioned by Destiny and Nature's hands, Arise, furth thy stern heart to thy stern sky, A mountain marvel that mankind commands, And a' thy coming foes shall see, and fly, E'en the fell Roman spawn, and ither envious fry ! Doun frae high heaven flash'd the grand decree, And instant in mid-air shot up that Form That perfect Figure, through a' time to be The image of calm Peace prepared for storm ! A sign for ever, boding mortal harm, To those wha frae her rest fair Scotia broke, By rash Invasion's rout, or Treason's larum ; That hame-hatched devilry whase whispers mock The weal o' States throughout wharever heard or spoke. Nae langer " sleeping " syne ! hills, far and near, Wad quake and rummel 3 in his uproused rair, 4 And foes wad scatter, ance he rushed to weir, 5 Faster and far'er than their hamald Cl lair, Or than fear-palsied shanks 7 the loons micht bear, 1 Ragwort. 2 ' The hill is a mass of trap of various species, upheaved through the carboniferous strata of central Scotland. . . The centre and upper part of the hill, and the remarkable columns called " Samson's Ribs," consist of basalt.' Chamberis Encyclopedia. 3 Rumble. 4 Roar. 5 War. 6 Domestic. 7 Limbs. THE LION HILL. 131 As erst at Largs, Stirling, and Waterloo And mony mair fell fechts l ten thousan' mair Whaur Scotia in full tilt did het 2 pursue, And haill hordes o' the rogues she overteuk an' slew ! Aneth 3 the Lion's tap I've coo'rd 4 my heid 5 And cuddled cub-like on his beildy breist, 7 (And never wildling yet of a' his breed Creept fainer to him frae his rear-ward East !) To gratifie auld cares, that ne'er hae ceased To wyse 8 me back, an' back, an' back again, His glories being to them as a feast Is unto starvelings rescued frae the main, Whan a' but want has fled, an' death's been craved in vain ! Rugged the Lion is as weel's may be, And stout and strong as Nature's favour'd wean ; His Samson ribs are e'en a joy to see, And his stark limbs, shot far into the plain, Are knuckled sae, they seem to stand alane who is apparently seeking a new situation, stand- ing in the street.} Weel ! Are ye here, my freend, to hire ? A man like you. I fain desire, A guid fore man to ploo. Sae, if sae be ye want a place, We micht agree I like yer face ! What sae ye to Hi- Woo ? But, can ye stack ? And can ye saw ? An's yable x for the Pheerin' ? 2 Speak out richt straucht we are but twa, And nae else ane's in hearin' ? Than ! say, noo dounricht true ! What wey ye're gaun to flit ? First ! what is, lat me quiz Yer name, an' praisent bit ? 3 WAUCHTY (modestly). Ma name's Rob Wauchty ; at Cauld-Broo, Wi' Maister Gimp, I've held the ploo Come Whitsunday twa 'eer ; 4 Atweel I can baith saw an' stack, An's at the Pheerin' nae weys back Sirss thaat ye needna fear ! 1 Capable. 2 Drawing the land off into ridges, or drills, as wanted. 3 Present place. 4 Two years. i 9 8 OTHER PIECES. Aw leave Cauld-Broo an Maister Gimp Becuz x his wey's sae odd ! Siller wi' him, like sense, is scrimp, Tho' Gear he mak's his God ! Some day, slap, he'll burst up Auld Kirst, whan him she meets ! His greed, sir, indeed sir, Her blude to steam hicht 2 heats ! DlRLER. A' vera guid ! I ken ye noo ! I've seen yer wark, lad, at the ploo, Sawin' an' stackin', tae ! But, man ! hae ye nae working folk, Forbye yersel', that ane could yoke On ony owre-thrang day ? We've sae few o' the cottar kind, That, whan it comes a press, In a sair plicht oursel's we find Ay, aft in hopeless mess ! The young folk flee and flock Mair toun wards ev'ry year ; A bad job for them, Rob, But waur 3 for us, I fear ? WAUCHTY. Dod, Maister ! that is vera true ! For instance, here's mysel' 'enoo, In sicna sich 4 a case : Jock he's my auldest but to gang, A twalmonth syne, and by my sang, He's haen 5 a thankless chase ! 1 Because. 2 Height. 3 Worse. 4 In such a similar. 5 Had. A COUNTRY HIRING. 199 To E'nbro' aff awa he flew, And gat a car to drive ; Neist l week he was braized black and blue, And rescued scarce alive. ' O ! ' he wrate, 2 ' sad's my state, Loading Leith lorries noo ! What a shame, leaving hame, For this slave toil and stew ! ' DlRLER. That's aye the wey ! but aff they go, Whether they're wantit ay, or no They think they'll storm the warld ! Whup ! in a kennin', neck and heels, Aneth thon 3 roarin' traffic's wheels The feck 4 o' them is swirl'd ! Ithers, nae doubt, do fair eneuch, E'en win a " bigger pay " Than ablins 5 they'd dune at the pleuch, 6 But whaur's their weal, I pray ? Yet, alack, seldom back Come to the auld calf ground 7 Lad or lass, ance they pass Inside a city's bound ! WAUCHTY. Aw hae fowre 8 mair twa fit for wark, The ither twa's wi' Maister Starke, Doun at the Public Schule ; The twa wark-fit are callants leal, 9 1 Next. 2 Wrote. 3 Yon. 4 Bulk. 5 Perhaps. 6 Plough 7 Native district. 8 Four. 9 Honest boys, 2 oo OTHER PIECES. Ane sixteen, and his billie l chiel Was fourteen 'eer last Yule. The auldest lad for him Aw seek A place to learn the ploo, At twal 2 or thirteen bob a week, Sir, he'd be cheap to you ? His billie, wee Willie, Could gang yer workers 3 wi', Or in course, the odd horse Could ca' 4 an' we agree ? DIRLER, G'wa ! and fesh 5 them to the Bill, 6 And I'se 7 be there belyve, 8 I will, And see about the fees ! Auchteen and tatties, 9 and the rest, 10 Is what I proffer for the best, 11 I howp 12 that sail ye please ? As for the lairner 13 he's no cheap Onless he beirs 14 the bell ; But, freend, owre that we shanna threep 15 Afore 16 we see himsel'. Be aff, than, nor laugh, man, Until yer laddie wins ! May be, man, wi' me, man, His battle jist begins ! 1 Brother. 2 Twelve. 3 Out-workers. 4 Drive. 5 Bring. 6 The Black Bull Tavern. 7 I shall. 8 Directly. 9 Eighteen shillings and potatoes. 10 Other usual perquisites. u Most efficient ploughmen. 12 Hope. 13 Learner. 14 Bears. 7 Shall not disagree. 8 Before. A COUNTRY HIRING. 201 WAUCHTY ( turning, and suddenly descrying his whole party.} Ho ! here's the faim'ly at our back The wife hersel', and a' the pack O' pups we've left at hame ! Thaat big doug's x ' Rob,' an' this ane's ' Wull,' Baith ready, sir, for the Black Bill, An' ye be wantin' them ? Of course, baith wife an' weans can wait, Nae baather need be made ; They ken what's what at ony rate They've owre heard a' we said ? At our backs, a' our cracks, 2 They heard as weel's oursel's ! By ma sang, Aw'm no' wrang Their lauchin' 3 on them tells ! (They retire to the Inn in a group.} DlRLER (in the bar parlour of The Black Bull, in which they have reassembled, having liquor and writing materials before them.} Drink out, Rob, man, drink out ! Here's t'ye ! Hech ! Say what noo about the fee ? Sayna it's no eneuch ! The man wham 4 ye are wantit for Has been wi' me abune 5 a score O' winters at the pleuch ! 1 Dog. 2 Conversation. 3 Laughing. 4 Whom. 6 Above. 202 OTHER PIECES. He leaves me only (puir auld Tarn !) For that he's wearin' auld, And's kill'd wi' pains tak' up yer dram, 'Twill baulk this vicious cauld ! (writing), That's a' doun ! For yer loon, Lat's say hum ! ten a week ? Wull, of course, the odd horse, Micht drive gin him we seek ? WAUCHTY (rising to his feet excitedly). Ten bob for Rob ! Na, na, dear sir ! What wad his mither say ? ' hear her ? ' Lord, man, she'd fire the toun ! ca' it twal! nocht x less than twal! 1 daurna 2 tak' aucht 3 less ! nor sail, Altho' it bre'k us doun ! Tival\\. maun 4 be, an' ten for Wull, And no' wan 5 bawbee 6 less ! Yes ? Did ye say ' Yes ? ' then, sir, Aw'm full ! And hoo Aw'll Kirsty mess ! Bring her ben, 7 let her ken ! (Mrs Wauchty comes fonvard to the table.} Kirsty ! breik up, 8 ma dear ! Aw hivv 9 a' for the twa Ye wantit ivritten here ! (Displaying the written contract of service for himself and his two sons). 1 Nought. 2 Dare not. 3 Aught. 4 Must. 5 One. 6 Halfpenny. 7 Further into the apartment. 8 Cheer up. 9 Have. A COUNTRY HIRING. 203 KlRSTY (with ill-concealed glee). Auld Rob, ye gomrell ! x man, be quite ! 2 Nae wonder ye learn me to flyte, 3 Gaun 4 on sae like an ass ! But, sir ! I beg yer pardon, sir Rob's aye a-jee 5 whan we're astir, The time the hirings 6 pass ! Still our new Maister that's to be 'Od, sir, I like ye weel ! I'm awfu' gled you twa agree, For Rob's a fhrawart 7 deil ! Praise 8 him an' praise him, Nae man on Yird's 9 as guid ; But hout 10 him, or tout n him, And he'd drink your heart's bluid ! DlRLER (giving WAUCHTY and his lads their ' arles,' or feeing money}. Hae, Rob, that' s your s ! this, callants, your's ! Noo we're ticht tether 'd, 12 by the Pow'rs, And gled am I it's owre ! Kirsty ! we twa are mairried folk, But, were we young, and no' bespoke, I'd mak' Rob stand atoure ! 13 I'd mak' him fit to hang himsel' E'en frae our new brig's pier ! He'd be its first the warld to tell The waes o' lost love here ! 1 Madcap. 2 Quiet. 3 Scold. 4 Going. 5 A little crazy, here. 6 Feeing markets. 7 Perverse. 8 Flatter. 9 Earth. 10 Mock. n Anger. 12 Securely contracted. 13 Off; apart. 204 OTHER PIECES. For, ye see, his jealousie Wad never let him live, But rile him, syne l wile him, Himsel' full rope to give. FRANK ANDERSON 2 Haith ! I'm ae waesome wicht this day Here, house-tied, cobblin' an auld shae ! Man ! what wad my auld mither say An she saw me ? It's weel she's deid tho' I've been wae Sin' she did dee ! 1 Then. 2 This is one of the ' five short minor pieces ' mentioned in the Preliminary Note to this volume as having appeared in print once before in the columns of a local weekly paper shortly after it was written. Its subject is an old ploughman friend, who, in the latter end of his farm service, had the dreadful misfortune to fracture irremediably his right leg near the knee-cap. This lamentable accident has totally incapacitated my friend from following his first love and honourable goddess the plough. As a result of this sad and final separation, he now resides with his family in Edinburgh, and while visiting him in his new home one day recently, he curiously yet sincerely requested me to write ' something ' on his ' case,' and the above rough-and-round verses were the ready if rum answer to his humorously earnest prayer. The main, or only, merit of them, perhaps, is their harmony, with almost exact and literal truth, a doubtful poetic quality at best. Frank's ' better-half,' who is happily and healthily still ' to the fore,' is the quondam famous ' Hind's Wife ' of the series of letters on the ' Ploughman's Question,' which ran with great eclat through the local press between twenty and thirty years ago, and a correspondent of the late ' Grand Old Man ' Mr Gladstone. FRANK ANDERSON. 205 Sin' e'er I was a hopefu' halflin', Close at the ploo's tail I've been shufflin', And mony a rug, an' mony a rufflin' The warld's gien me ! But this its warst defied a' bafflin' That brak my knee ! Eh, Sirs ! it's hard to maister life On twa sticks hirplin' l thro' its strife, Like ony helpless auld dune 2 wife O' nine an' ninety ! Never to stapp 3 nor horn nor knife Again in plenty ! My proud Scots bluid 4 boiled at the thocht Of living on, and doing nocht ! I mindit how lang syne I'd wrocht And cobbled shune ! 5 ' Could means throo that no come, if socht, Whan a' is dune ? ' The mair I mused, the less I mourned, And briskly to the looms I turn'd, Whan neibors, wi' their bauchles, 6 spurn'd Auld snabs 7 for me ! Fetching their mending here I'se warrand, 8 Wi' muckle 9 glee ! 1 Hobbling. 2 Done. 3 Stick ; put. 4 Blood. 5 Boots and shoes. 6 Old foot-wear. 7 Professional shoemakers. 8 I shall warrant. 9 Very great. 206 OTHER PIECES. Some o' thae l freends, forbye ' 2 their shune, Declared their pats an' pans were dune, And wad need tinkerin' fell sune, To haud them gaun ; 3 Quo' I, " ye gowks ! 4 gae fesh 5 them roun/ I'm just yer man ! " They brang 6 not only pats and pans, But barrels, bowies, caups, 7 and cans, Mougs, jougs, and tinnies 8 wantin' hauns, Souther, or clauts, 9 Besides their stools, claes-screens, and stauns For haudin' 10 hats ! Hand saws to sherp, auld shears to grind, Cages to wire, lowse chairs to bind, Cradles, an' clocks to sort, or wind, That wadna gang ; A' kind o' trantles n they could find They braucht 12 alang ! It sune 13 grew pautent, 14 ev'n to me, That my twa hauns deft tho' they be Could ne'er work thro' that monstrous sea And storm o' tredd, 15 Tho' nicht an' day, till I did dee, I swat 16 an' bled ! 1 These. ' 2 Besides. 3 Hold them going. 4 Fools ; cuckoos. 5 Bring. 6 Brought. 7 Wooden kitchen dishes. 8 Tankards. 9 Solder or patches. 10 Holding. n Old or petty articles of furniture. 12 Brought. 13 Soon. 14 Patent. 15 Trade ; work. w Sweated. FRANK ANDERSON. 207 Therefore, gif 1 I'd outlive't ava, 2 On ithers' help I boud 3 to draw ; Sae, baith my wife and dauchters twa, Aff-hand, I made Apprentices, strick bund 4 by law, To learn my trade ! The prime depairtment o' the shune, I man and maister baith my lane ! The wifie tackles a' that's dune In patching breeks, And duds 5 that arena owre far gane For ' clouts,' or ' steeks ! ' The youngest 'prentice soops 6 the shop, Does a' our chores, an' gies us scope In virtue's paths but hang'd short rope In ony ither ! My second bloomer fires wi' hope Baith me and mither ! This 'prentice is a deevil fair, A lingle 7 threider past compare ! Send me a bauchle to repair Ev'n our Lord Provost's, An' sune she'll mak' the Council stare Like Fishy-raw 8 ghosts ! 1 If. 2 At all. 3 But. 4 Strict bound. 5 Old clothes. 6 Sweeps and dusts. 7 Shoemaker's thread. 8 Fisher-row, one of the coast towns near Edinburgh, said to have been much given in former times to superstition, belief in witchcraft, ghosts, etc. 2o8 OTHER PIECES. My looms an' lap-stanes a' she kens Elshins and brogs, an' lingle en's, Heels, uppers, taes, an' leather ben's For wait or sole, 1 Ere I can speak, she apprehen's, An' brings the whole ! To live wi' her an' 'tither twa, The fient a fear 2 hae I ava, For were the warst that could befa' To happen noo, How eithly 3 micht I jouk the jaw, 4 An' warstle 5 through ! My earthly trinity's thae three The three as ane, and a' for me ! A' aiquals in their unitie, Whate'er betides, Ready to share, whate'er it be, The Lord provides ! Sae ' Frank ' sail canty 6 cobble on, And be as rich whan life hath flown As gif he'd been the walthiest don, Or millionaire, An' be as forrit 7 up abune 8 An' maybe mair ! 1 The stock in trade of a cobbler. 2 The devil a fear Easily. 4 Evade the trouble. 5 Struggle. 6 Shall cheery. Forward. 8 Above. RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. THE ABBEY. 1 Fringing Tyne River, winding doun Thro' the woodlands braid an' bonnie, It lies below John Knox's toun, In its Valley, fair as ony. Its ancient Mill grinds little corn ; Its lone Kirk-yaird is kenn'd by few ; Unto its bosom there is borne Nane o' our 'departed ' noo ! The silence o' the Past is there, A' things show the trail o' Time ; The rank gerse 2 flaunts o'er ' stane ' and ' lair,' 3 Of whilk * there's hardly left a styme. 5 1 ' The Abbey is beautifully situated on the banks of the Tyne, one mile below the county town of East Lothian. . . . The village takes its name from the stately abbey that was founded there, in the year 1178, by the pious Ada, Countess of Northumberland, afterwards the wife of Prince Henry, son of David I., King of Scotland, and mother of Malcolm IV. It was in this sacred building that a Scots Parliament assembled in July 1548, and discussed, and decided in favour of, the union of Queen Mary with the Dauphin of France. The walls of the " Abbey " have long since.been rendered invisible by " decay's effacing fingers," though the villagers and many others still attach the name of "Queen Mary's Room " to one of the detached houses that now form part of the out-buildings of Abbey Mill.' Correspondent of People's Journal. 2 Wild grass. 3 Tombstone and grave. 4 Which. 5 Vestige. o 210 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. It hath a name l this auld wee toun Few Scots clachans do outshine : Here Sam was born, bapteezed, and groun, And here's the famous Brig o' Tyne ! 2 1 Being so near Haddington, the birth-place of John Knox. 2 ' We have said that there are few traces now in existence of the ancient "Abbey," but those that yet remain are of much interest. The principal of these is the old Abbey Bridge, no doubt constructed to keep a free and uninterrupted communication between the nunnery and the south side of the river. Were there any reason to demur to the statements of our old annalists as to the wealth and large posses- sions of the Abbey, the beauty and remarkable strength of the bridge would be suffiicient to dispel any doubts on this score. A finer specimen of the bridge-making abilities of that race of architects to whom we owe those magnificent ecclesiastical ruins that still stud the face of the country, does not, we believe, exist in Scotland, than in the beautiful structure which, but little impaired by the lapse of years and the progress of decay, still spans the waters of the Tyne. It is not a little singular to reflect that, while the engineers of little more than a hundred years ago were making the most bungling attempts at bridge-building, there had existed for centuries an erection in our own neighbourhood which in respect of elegance of span, breadth of roadway, and easiness of gradient, might have served.as a model for the latest and best specimens of the^skill of our Talfords and Kennies. The west face of the bridge, looking up the Tyne, has been constructed with a fine perception of the beautiful, and must have been designed by the same hand that fashioned the Lamp of Lothian, the central tower of which still remains in almost all its original grace and symmetry. There are three arches to the bridge, each of which, in its pointing and ornamentation, resembles the upper half of a Gothic window the under face of the arches being ribbed with courses of polished masonry, that at once add to the elegance of their appearance and their strength. . . . From a point a little higher up the river, the appearance of this mediaeval erection, with its beautiful arches binding the wooded banks of the Tyne together, is beautiful in the extreme, and invariably attracts the attention of the stranger. The associations of history, moreover, are not awanting to invest it with additional interest. It was over its arches that a glittering calvalcade of the Scottish and French nobility THE ABBEY, 211 Here young Queen Mary to the heir O' Gaulia's Croun was pledged richt leal ; Here Betty Deans served mony a year As Howdie, wives, and ex-maids weel. Here ance stude x Ada's Nunnery, Tho' that is mony years ago ; And here Sam's impish gunnery Brang 2 mony a hawk and hoolet 3 low. Here sat ane Auld Scots Parliament What time in France wee Mary ran ; Here little Sam to Schule 4 was sent And a' his numerous ills began. Here Katie Slicht was lost an' droun'd ; Here Sandy Bennet lived an' died Than whom a nobler, Fse be bound, Death never to his lang hame shied. Here, dead, yon Deil of drollery, The unforgotten Bairdie, 6 fell, Aneth the hand of Cholera, Whilk rang sae mony a neibor's 6 knell ! with their attendant squires and henchmen, defiled some three hundred and fifty years ago to hold that momentous Parliament which decided that the youthful Mary, then in her sixth year, should wed the Dauphin of France. That Parliament held in the Abbey on the 7th of July, 1548, and from its decision in favour of the French alliance, a train of events arose, which led to the most calamitous consequences not only to Scotland, but to the youthful monarch.' From ' Sketches of East Lothian,' by DAVID CROAL, proprieitor and editor of the Haddington- shire Courier. 1 Stood. 2 Brought. 3 Owl. 4 School. B Alexander Baird, the chief of the wits of the village. 6 Neighbours. 2i2 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. Dick Scott and a' his family To staw l that monster's maw were ta'en ! (Ane preach'd their funeral homily Wha, Sunday next, gat preach'd his ain !) Ane hence gaed 2 back to heaven straight, Yon Angel sent to us on loan, To reconcile us to our fate By proving Christ in ' Little John.' And here lang lived twa Michty Men Warrior Pensioners of Eld ! Coroonie in a Cobbler's den, And Jamie Steele, just as it's tell'd. 3 But, first an' worst, here was done, Ae Sabbath e'en in twenty-nine, A deed of blood enough to stun And gar 4 anither airt 5 rin Tyne. And tho' the culprit gat his meeds, And tho' a stranger's 6 was the shame, It yet mak's natives hing their heids, And sich or sweir 7 owre their first name. 8 Mair than these words mere prelude anes It does seem ' hardly worth the while ' To further indicate the stanes Thy servant's quarried for this pile. 1 Satiate. 2 Went. 3 Told. 4 Make. 5 Another direction. 6 The perpetrator of the awful crime alluded to was a North Berwick man. 7 Sigh or swear. 8 See post the ' Rhyme ' entitled " An Abbey Tragedy." SAM. 213 Ye wha that plain hame-truths do hate Facts, hard and true, as bases made Of fanes poetic dinna prate, They haud 1 the heart whan a's been said ! SAM. Upo' life's stage, doun at the Abbey, He debuted as a ' baaby ' Some auchteen 2 inches lang ; His Minnie 3 gave him sooks 4 for squackin', 5 Same's she had dune 6 for a' her cleckin', 7 Noo a deil's dizzen 8 strang. So he squack'd on and grew apace, And sune began to toddle ; 9 He clutch'd the forelock on Time's face, He fear'dna aucht a boddle. 10 E'en whalpins, an' skelpins, 11 Were as flae-bites 12 to him ; Round about, in and out, He ran wi' tireless limb. A little billie 13 sune u gat he A seraph, sent doun for a wee To lead his first steps on ; But ere the close o' five short years The seraph pales and disappears Anither wanted ' John ' ! 1 Hold. 2 Eighteen. 3 Mother. 4 Sucks. 5 Crying. 6 Done. 7 Offspring. 8 Thirteen. 9 Walk totteringly. 10 Literally a copper coin, value two pennies Scots, or the third of an English one. 11 Beatings and floggings. 12 Flea-bites. 13 Brother. 14 Soon. 214 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. Thenceforth for Sam ' a' things ' were changed : At first, he stude 1 aghast ! Syne 2 round and round for miles he ranged, But to despair at last ! Auld Dad then, his lad then Tauld whaur 3 the seraphs sang ; Sam grat 4 mair stamp'd, and sware That ' Dad for John should gang ! ' Time quell'd thae bursts, and Sam renew'd His glowering, but ' a' things ' review'd Nae second time the same ! Yet fair they were as they had been Death made the ae 5 blot in the scene Around his native hame ; Its fields and hills, its smoking toun, Its pine woods towering high, Its miles of river, up and doun, His auld delights lay bye. 6 But 'wee John,' deid an' gone, His weird threw over a', And the scene, fair and green, Life's crudest tears would draw ! But youth, and native strength of heart, Prevail'd owre e'en that premier smart And nigh death-stab of woe ; Sam, ' sent to school,' a chief became Unto his mates in every 'game,' And mony anither ' go ' ! 7 1 Stood. 2 Then. 3 Told where. 4 Cried. 5 One. 6 Near. 7 Mischievous trick. SAM. 215 They saucht l birds' nests mair than their books, And kenn'd them better far Than mony a lang-haired don that looks, But ' can't find where they are ! ' Nicht and day, wark and play, Were thae boy-raids for birds ! They saucht them, they claucht 2 them, Fiercer than ' saunts ' 3 their swurds ! 4 Anither dear, engrossing ploy, That held the average Abbey boy Surer than wizard's spell, Cam' of the ' trouts and mennons ' 5 queer That hotch'd 6 wi' life the waters clear Which wash'd his native dell ! for ae hour o' Auld Lang Syne, When, yet unsmudged wi' ill, We ' fish'd,' an' plouter'd 7 in the Tyne, Doun by the Abbey Mill ! Alas, alas I ' All flesh is grass,' And made but to be mown ; Auld schule 8 mates dree'd their fates, And Sam's left bird alone ! But his king passion in those days The lasses was ! a woeful craze, Waur 9 than the ' wild-birds ' spell ! A'maist 10 ere he could lisp their names They lichtit in his heart the flames 1 Sought. 2 Clutched. 3 Old fighting Covenanters. 4 Swords. 5 Minnows. 6 Moved tumultously. 7 Puddled. 8 School. 9 Worse. 10 Almost. 216 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. That ev'n age downa l quell ! Yet leeze 2 me on thae loves untauld ' Miss Mitchell,' and ' Miss Steele ' ! ' Jean Swanson,' and yon nine-year-auld The matchless ' Peg Macneill ' ! He sees yet, and drees yet, The flashes frae their een ! Him, a' owre, the haill fowre, 3 Their wiles had coosten 4 clean ! This calf-love's ' speech ' was hantrin 5 ' tugs,' ' Nips,' 'pookins,' 'jags wi preens,' and 'hugs' The lasses ca'd ' provokin' ' ! In winter, aft its ' langidge ' 6 was ' Ice-skids,' 7 or warring wi' ' snaw-ba's,' 8 And missing them by token ! Miss Mitchell was the ' Prood Queen Bess,' Peg Macneill ' Queen Mary,' Sweet Miss Steele his ' Juliet ' was, Jean Swanson still did vary Whyles 9 she was ' Hamlet's lass/ Then, ' Cleopatra ' whyles, Fancy clad that rare jaud 10 In mair than Shakespeare's styles ! Thus sporting, reading, and ' lass-fond,' He dream'd thro' boyhood, and beyond, And up to manhood clam' ; 1 Cannot. 2 Commend. 3 The whole four. 4 Thrown ; cast. 5 Occasional. 6 Language. 7 Slides. 8 Snow-balls. 9 Sometimes. 10 Jade. SAM. 217 Wae sucks ! l this ither - stage o' life Was as nae flowery strath, but rife Wi' wearie ills for Sam ! Jungles o' care, huge danger blocks, Quagmires, and swamps, and shreds Of bonnie greens atween the rocks, Whare scant joys made their beds, Fill'd his stage of ' full age,' As weel's of ' manhood's prime ' ; And at last, when a's past, Its bouk 3 o' care's nae ' sty me ' 4 A', a' his young sweethearts are deid, A white grave stane is at each heid, In place o' him langsyne ! For death he's now an ' easy lift ' He is sae reft of every gift, He has but breath to tine 5 ! Deid, scores o' freends ! his birds and trouts ! His first-loves a' the fowre ! And a' his auld mates hereabouts Are past that ' awful hour,' When Fate comes the end thrums To snick aff life's full wab, Syne throws't owre to a Power That ne'er was kenn'd to blab ! Alas. - Other. 3 Legacy, body of care. 4 The faintest form or quantity of anything. 5 Lose. 2i8 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. AN ABBEY TRAGEDY. Ten year 'fore ' Sam ' was born, Up prowling frae the sea There cam' ae l Sabbath morn In the month o' ' Febwaree/ 2 A demon, buskit 3 an' brusht like a man, Tho' as ill-faured 4 a knave as could be. ' Tis cash that I must have Gone is my last rupee ! But Fortune serves the brave, And this day she'll serve me ! Bob Emond never yet turn'd in need Where Necessity points goes he ! ' 5 Awa' doun there by the Mill A fruitful garden spread, And it to tend and till There twa pure saints abade 1 One. 2 February. 3 Dressed. * 111 favoured. 5 On this notorious crime there appeared in The People's Journal of March 28th, 1896, a full descriptive article from the pen of an Edin- burgh journalist ; and as the story of the double murder given therein, agrees substantially with that which was current in my early days, I may not do better than present my readers with a few brief extracts from it at the end of the 'Rhyme.' To do so, as 'foot- notes ' here, would probably distract my readers' attention from the rhyme too much ! I think, however, that these extracts should be read before the verses themselves are perused, as of course THEY have been written only more or less 'generally.' In them will be found allusions to some facts concerning Emond which are not mentioned in the article referred to, but all these have been culled cautiously from my recollections of what I heard anent the atrocious deed long ago in the very village and place of its enactment, and as told by people who were well acquainted both with the victims and the perpetrator of their violent and untimely deaths. AN ABBEY TRAGEDY. 219 A widow demure, and Madeline, Her ain beloved and gentle maid. To them the demon came Their ' relative by bluid/ x Altho' inside their hame He ne'er before had stude ; 2 But he was true to his vile resolve 3 ' It may now pay me well to be " gude ! " ' Good morrow, gentle friends, My soul bends thine to greet ! Yes ! Madeline, it bends, It worships at thy feet ! Thou art my queenly one, and, truly, Here, in the dust, is my place meet ! ' ' Robert ! what dost thou mean ? Madeline is thy niece No mock fantastic " queen," Pray then, this fooling cease ! I fear sea-faring's done but little To help past faults, or future peace ' ! ' Madam, I did but jest ! But still, she, without art, So fair is, she impress'd My soft and simple heart ! Seafaring ? Yes ! it learn'd me " little " How shams to trade in true-love's mart ' ! 1 Blood. ' 2 Stood. 3 As was said he had confessed to the Prison Chaplain. 220 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. ' Maddie ne'er saw before Her "Uncle Robert "here, So dinna fash l her more, And just sit doun, my dear ! Between North Berwick and The Abbey The lang, lang gate 2 makes a' folk " queer " The demon eyed the board Whareon his 'welcome' 3 lay, And deil anither word Did he tak' pains to say, Until he had stow'd his paunch as fou As a ' true man ' ever does ony day. He ate a' the farrels, 4 Mair than tastit the cheese ; And the treacle-drink 5 barrels Nae little did ease For his ' conscience ' ne'er hinder'd nor bather'd c But at length he gat staw'd 7 by degrees. A' this time frae the first He was watching the dame, To find out whare she pursed The hain'd gear 8 o' that hame ; But the Widow a Scots bairn was born, Sae it shored 9 he wad gang 10 as he came. 1 Do not bother. 2 Road. 3 The first refreshment given to a friendly visitor. 4 Quarters of a scone, or cake, of home-made bread. 5 A favourite non-intoxicating beverage, compounded of Venice treacle, etc. G Troubled. 7 Satiated. 8 Saved up cash, jewels, etc. 9 It seemed as if. 10 Would go back. AN ABBE Y TRACED K 221 Twas a fine efternune, She invitit the brute, And fu' blythe took him roun' A' her gairden without, A' the time a dreid plot he was scheming To encompass her doom, branch an root ! 1 'Twas a plan stown 2 frae Hell By the wut 3 o' a deil A grim death for hersel', And young Maddie, as weel ! He was plackless, therefore they must die ! ' To his needs he would ever be leal!' The eves o' ' Febwaree ' Fa' early, and that ane, Like those in Italic, Closed lown, 4 and mild, and fain 5 : ' Ah, I must be moving,' the demon yawn'd, ' But, doubtless, I'll call soon again ' ! ' Yes, Robert, days are short, But Maud and I will gae, And see thee weel athort 6 The kirkyard park 7 to-day ; We'll put on our things and thou convoy As far as the Toll-house, anyway.' 1 By his alleged confession. 2 Stolen. 3 Art ; power. 4 Quiet. s . Genial ; kindly. 6 Across. 7 The field so-called, whic lay between the Garden-house and the Toll-road. 222 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. Fu' sune they at the Toll Were ' pairted' wi' the fiend, After a ' charming stroll ' Wi' their ' recover'd freend ' ! Syne hame the twa set puir fated lambs ! As little ' suspeecious ' as lambs unwean'd ! Safe back within their ' place,' And ' a' things right seen to,' Straight to the ' Throne of Grace ' Thae trusty saints withdrew ; And far the enraptured stars beyond Their hallowed prayers and praises flew ! But hark ! ' What din l was that ' ? How loud that window shook ! What shook it ? not the cat, For poosie's in her nook ! * Mother ! O, Mother ! What can it be ' ? ' I kenna 2 yet, but I'se gang 3 and look.' She drew the shutters wide, And saw the beaming stars ; But what saw she beside, Outowre 4 the winnock bars 5 ? Her ' Robert's ' swoln phiz the face of him She'd deem'd lang back amang his ' tars ' ! 1 Clattering noise. 2 Know not. 3 I shall go. 4 Beyond. 6 Window frame. AN A BSE Y TRA GED Y. 223 His bulging een l glared red Abune 2 the gallows' face, Nae hat was on his head, A ' nicht cowl ' 3 was in's place ; Up shot the winnock, and syne 4 shot in A full-fledged devil there apace ! ' Robert ! is this thee back ? O Lord ! Whatever's wrong ' ? ' Cash ! Silver ! Gold ! unpack All coffers weak and strong ! ' She saw in his belt a lang ' sea knife,' And back thro' the house distracted sprang. Thro' the house, thro' the transe, 5 Thro' the fore door she ran, Scarce a step in advance Of that murder-mindit man, And the cope o' the yaird wa' had grasp'd Whan he drew her back doun, and began ! 1 Won't thou part with thy brass 6 ' ? ' I hae nane to pairt wi' ' ! ' That's a lie ! therefore pass ' Thus to hell o'er my knee ' ! And the ' sea-knife ' he drew threw her neck E'en as cool as some sea-junk war' she 7 ! 1 Eyes. 2 Above. 3 Night-cap. 4 Then. 5 Passage. 6 Common slang for money. 7 In all the local versions of the tragedy current in my boyhood, it was said that Emond was the worse of drink when he returned to the Garden to execute his fell intents, and I have assumed the very probable truth of the statement. 224 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. On the banks o' the Tyne, To mak' known how he ' grieved/ In the sty o' a swine His erst ' dear friend ' he heaved, And remember'd, I trow, there was ane He was ' bound to look up ' tho' reprieved ! Sae he swith harkit back To the house in the yaird, Whare Maddie, on the rack, Waited this new ' Blue-baird,' Screaming ' Mother ! Uncle, whare is mother ' ? And most mocking wise he answer'd nor spared ' Fair Madeline ! go in, I follow at thy heels, To repress soon the sin Which thy wild cry reveals, And to which, since old " Eden " number One, Down to this, number Two, Woman kneels ! * It " Curiositie " Philosophers do call ; The vulgar directer be, And say 'twas " Adam's fall," But thy sin, if it was Eden's ruin, Ruin's here proscribed, my chosen gal ' ! She stagger'd, syne she ran A hatchet near the porch Lay on a log at haun', 1 And wi't he made a lurch 1 Hand. AN ABBE Y TRACED Y. 225 Sudden on the maiden, frae behind, And struck out darkling her life's torch ! The life stream ran a-flood And congeal'd round his feet ; But, ' not in's usual mood, This fact he miss'd complete ! ' l And sae the life whilk 2 he had closed Caused closing his whan time was meet ! The hatchet neist 3 was plied Pell mell on chest and press, Till he the ' keys ' descried Thrust in a dolly's dress Some relic of a Toy o' Maddie's, Langsyne she wad play wi' and caress. But the ' plunder ' he gat Was e'en little, I trow, For the dame was nae ' flat ' 4 And did ' never allow To lie out o' the Bank ony mair Than she needit to keep things in tow.' 6 Bedeen, 6 the Garden clear, The Double Murd'rer stands, And views, with awe and fear, His blood-stain'd garb and hands, Then breathes he his first pray'r O Lord! by me Now broke are all thy Ten Commands ! 1 What was commonly reported he stated in his ' confession. ' 2 Which. 3 Next. 4 Slang for fool. 5 Going in right and prosperous trim. 6 In a short time. 22 6 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. Frae a hole in the Wa' A grit l sea flask he drew, And its liquor drank a', His spent ' pluck ' to renew ; Still, the cauld wind him scorch'd, and the stars Wi' their shooting beams pierced him through ! ' Thank God, more drink I have ! My nerves will need it all ! Emond ! be cool, be brave, One ' slip,' and thou must fall ! Secrete the bowie and all the swag 2 Then wash and wipe, and face the ball ' ! 'Twas dune, 3 but, na, na, na ! His victims wadna gae ! 4 He couldna slip thae 5 twa, They dogg'd him nicht and day ! And if ever he ventured far afield, They brang him slap 6 back the same sad way ! His hiding was a wood, Fell near the bloody scene ! The lair was grim and rude A ' badger's hole,' I ween ! But even in that dark den was he By a mongrel cur sure track'd ae e'en ! 7 1 Large. 2 The sea-knife and his 'plunder.' 3 Done. * Would not leave him. 5 These. 6 Brought him right. 7 One evening. AN ABBE Y TRA GED Y. 227 Next step but ane, the last ! Convicted, doom'd to dee, 1 Man's ruth and justice past, This broke law-breaker see ! He's gotten his meed, for hell is here His memory's veriest miserie ! He sees can neer forget The last appealing look On baith 2 their faces set, Whan he brak' in, and took Doun frae Life's treasure ward atweel That which God only may'st unhook ! Last scene of all a street, Pang'd 3 skyhigh with a croud ; A gibbet, stock'd replete Beam, rope, drop stark and rude ; Syne 4 a writhing victim, white-cap croun'd, Dangling o'er the howling multitude ! 5 1 Die. 2 Both. 3 Filled. Then. 5 The following are the excerpts alluded to in a former footnote. As stated, they have all been taken from an article, entitled ' The Double Murder at the Abbey : The Story of an East Lothian Crime, by a Correspondent,' which appeared in ' The Peoples Journal, on the 28th of March, 1896. The writer says : ' As I stood ruminating near the old Mill ' (Abbey Mill) ' the other day, I was accosted by an in- telligent patriarch, a native of The Abbey. After conversing on many local things, he set out to tell me the "most wonderful story" that lingers about the place the famous "Haddington Abbey murder." "My story," he said, "is about the murder of a mother and her daughter by their relative, Robert Emond, of North Berwick, in the year 1829. At that period, and I suppose for long before it, there lay a small market garden, immediately east from the road called the Mill Wynd, and the gardener's house stood in the midst of the garden, 22 8 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. half way between the Mill and the east end of the village, and back from the public road about fifty or sixty yards. The garden and house were enclosed by a big wall, pierced on the Mill Wynd side by a gateway and doorway. The gate was seldom opened, and both it and the door were seen to be securely closed and locked every night." . . . ..." In the house then dwelt the widow of the late gardener who still carried on the business a Mrs Franks and her only child Madeline, who was now a beautiful young woman of modest mien'and gentle nature, simple and good-hearted, and a general favourite with the people. Mrs Franks was a woman of superior mind and manners, and was greatly respected for her piety and other Christian virtues. Above all things Mrs Franks was industrious, and she contrived with her daughter Madeline and a little help from outside to carry on successfully the market garden. " . . . " The summer was approaching when a letter from a relative of Mrs Franks, named Robert Emond, who generally resided at North Berwick, was received, informing her that he would visit The Abbey, and spend a Sunday with them soon." ... " Mrs Franks and Madeline were delighted with this news, and wearied for their friend's coming, for it was seldom the monotony of their lives was broken by visits from their kindred." . . . "True to his written promise, he arrived at Mrs Franks' on the appointed Sabbath from North Berwick. Mrs Franks and Madeline received him with unfeigned joy ; and directly on his arrival regaled him with refreshments suited to the season, etc. . . . The afternoon was a very fine one, and Madeline and her mother spent it in showing him the beauties of the garden, and the village and its vicinity. They found him ' pleasant company,' though some of the old women of the town, when they saw him that day, did not like his face, declaring among themselves that it was dark and evil-looking. This thought came neither to Mrs Franks nor her daughter, who both were of opinion that their relative was an open-hearted and kindly-disposed man." . . . "The sun was setting in glory on that Sabbath day when Robert Emond left The Abbey to return to North Berwick. Mrs Franks and Madeline accompanied him to the top of the Toll Road, scarcely a mile from the village, and there shook hands, though not before they had given their ' friend ' a press- ing invitation to revisit them soon. Emond profusedly thanked Mrs Franks and her daughter, and declared it would give him unbounded pleasure to call upon them again in a short time." "As darkness came on, Mrs Franks locked the door of the garden wall, and hung the key on its nail in the kitchen, as was invariably her custom at the gloaming. She then locked the front door of AN ABBE Y TRACED K 229 and retired to the kitchen for good, where she and Madeline soon en- gaged in their usual family worship. . . . This was hardly over when a noise was suddenly heard at the kitchen window" ' (Exactly as indicated in the " poem "). . . . " Mrs Franks having; good reason now to expect violence to her person in the circumstances, darted out of the kitchen and ran to the front door, which she hastily- unlocked, making flight as fast as she could down the walk to the garden door, with the intention of raising an alarm in the village. But the garden door was locked, and the key was hanging in the; kitchen, where she had placed it only half an hour before. Still her. presence of mind did not fail her. By the garden wall near the door there stood a pigsty and a small dunghill. On to the roof of this pig-, house, by means of the dunghill, Mrs Franks scrambled, intending to leap the wall on the other side, and so escape the fury of her pursuer ;. but she was too late. As she was about to gain a footing on the roof of the pigsty, Emond caught her firmly by the dress and dragged her; to the ground ; for whenever he wriggled in by the window and saw Mrs Franks turn to leave the kitchen he pursued her pell-mell, leaving; Madeline half-undressed there, and in a state of great terror* Stifling - her cries as best he could, Emond laid Mrs Franks' head over his knee, and gashed her throat from ear to ear with a peculiarly shaped knife, with which he had previously armed himself for the dark deed. So effectual was the cut that the poor lady did not utter a single groan, ".- ..." Emond very cooly retraced his steps to the house of his victim^.; after throwing her dead body into the pigsty. On the steps of the -. front door he encountered Madeline, who was in great excitement, and, still only half-dressed. When she saw Emond approach, she cried t in a voice almost stifled with sobs' Oh, where is my mother, uncle ? Oh, I hope there is nothing wrong with her ! ' ' Don't stand there in the cold in that state. Go away into the house, and I'll tell you where your mother is,' answered Emond in a calm voice, and with no ex- citement in his manner. At the front door there stood a little log, on, which firewood was broken, and beside the log lay a little axe." . . . " As soon as Madeline turned her back he clutched the axe, and before she had gone many paces he killed her with one heavy blow of the . hatchet." . . . "The spot on which Emond stood when he dealt the girl the fatal blow was easily discovered afterwards, no blood had covered it, his two footprints remaining intact, and the blood congeaK ing quickly around them by its exposure to the cold air. There were more of the murderer's footprints in the blood of Madeline, but they had been made after it congealed, and therefore were not distinct. 230 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. This was the part where Emond forgot himself, for by not obliterating those two distinct foot-marks he gave the police a clue that greatly helped to convince them of his guilt." ..." When he had ransacked the house, Emond passed out into the still, starry night, leaving the door of the dwelling wide open. He felt he was stained with blood and went down to the Tyne, and cleaned himself in the stream, at a short distance below The Abbey." . . . "He next thought of where he should hide the ' gullie ' with which he had murdered Mrs Franks, and at last pitched the horrid blade into what he thought a safe hiding-place the mill-lade. But as the lade happened at that time to be under- going repair, the 'gullie ' was found by one of the mill-master's men a few days after Emond had thrown it there." . . . "The morning after the crime the foreman miller at the Abbey was proceeding to his work in his usual gay spirits.when he heard Mrs Franks' pig grunting very loudly on the other side of the garden wall. The miller entered the mill and began his work without thinking more about the matter. But he was surprised to hear the same grunting at mid-day, and began to suspect that something was wrong. A heap of cinders used by the mill-master for kiln purposes lay close to the garden wall where it joined with the mill buildings, and from the top of this heap the miller got a peep into Mrs Franks' garden. The miller was greatly surprised to see neither Mrs Franks nor her daughter moving about the garden, and called on them by name several times. What could be wrong, and where could Mrs Franks and Madeline be? he asked himself. Coming down from the cinder heap, he tried the garden door. It was locked. Night came, and the pig was still grunting strangely. He was convinced now that something must surely be wrong. Before going home to his evening meal, the miller made up his mind that he would make sure. Getting again on the cinder heap, he looked into the garden, and again did not see anyone, and he now was determined to learn what reason the pig had for crying so strangely ; so, jumping from the top of the wall into the garden, he proceeded at once to the pigsty. What a fearful spectacle met his gaze." . . . "The miller was horrified at the sight, and did not explore further, but hastily retraced his steps and raised the alarm in The Abbey that Mrs Franks had been murdered. The t 'garden door was broken open by the police, and the body of Mrs Franks was lifted out of the pigsty and carried into the house." . . . "Great was the horror of the policemen and the others when they entered the now tenantless house and saw the lifeless body of Madeline on the kitchen floor, her clothes saturated with blood, and she in the half-dressed state in which she was when AN ABBE Y TRA GED Y. 23 1 the murderer's knock at the window was first heard. Next day the police were early in the village making inquiries, and were a long time in Mrs Franks' house and garden, searching for evidences that might lead to the capture of the villian who had robbed The Abbey of two of its most respected inhabitants." . . . "Several days after the crime the bodies of Mrs Franks and her daughter were interred in the village churchyard that adjoined the garden in which they had spent so many peaceful days. The funeral was largely attended, and the whole countryside pitied the hapless fate of Mrs Franks and Madeline. The story of the crime spread rapidly in all directions. Then it became known that Robert Emond of North Berwick, whom local people knew to be the relative of the victims, was strangely absent from his work and home, and this piece of information at once led them to suspect that he had been in some way or other connected with the murders, and turned the efforts of the police authorities to ascertain the whereabouts of this man whom they supposed to be the author of the tragedy, but for days, despite the vigilance of the police, nothing was heard or known of him. " . . . " Close to the banks of the Tyne, about a mile below the Abbey, there is a fir plantation, which was in the days of the crime, and long after, known locally by the name of ' Cowie's Wood.' Nearer to the river runs the public right-of-way footpath, between Haddington and East Linton, and along this path one evening, several days after the crime, a man belonging to the neighbourhood passed with a little dog. True to its nature, the dog, when it reached the high sand scaur, which rises in the Southern side of the wood, began hunting and chasing the rabbits to their warren, for which the scaur was then noted. The scaur was also said to be frequented by badgers, and many large burrows in it seemed to bear out the truth of this. In a few minutes the dog began barking loudly and savagely, and this attracted the attention of its master, who went to the spot, and was surprised to see that the cur was barking and snarling at the foot, and part of the leg of a man protruding from a large hole in the sand bank. The man called back his dog, and pulling the leg of him who was in the hole, asked him to come out and show himself, and not to be hiding there, Mike a badger, or a fox.' The discoverer at first thought that the man was some poacher or drunken fellow. He may have been right as to ' drunkenness,' but he was otherwise mistaken, for the man was none other than the long sought for Robert Emond, who now stood before him, with blood-shot eyes and livid features. He had been in the scaur off and on since the night of the murder. The man who 232 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. found him knew Emond personally, and knew also that he was' wanted by the police for the crime, so he took his captive tightly by the collar and called on some workmen who were returning home on the other side of the river. The workmen were naturally startled to see Emond, and crossing at the nearest shallow, willingly assisted in taking him to the Abbey, whence he was immediately conveyed under a stout escort to the county town. During his capture Emond struggled much, and declared vehemently that ' he was innocent as : the babe unborn ' as most murderers do. . . . Next day Emond was examined by the Sheriff in the county town, and it was found that the authorities had good grounds for his detention. . At his trial in Edinburgh the chain of circumstantial evidence was so complete that Robert Emond could not discover the slightest loophole for escape. He consequently was unanimously found guilty by the jury, and was sentenced by the presiding judge to be executed on the 2ist of March following, at the then usual place of execution in Edinburgh the open space near the Tron Church in the High Street. After sentence and while occupying the condemned cell, Emond was visited frequently by the prison chaplain. On one of these occasions Emond confessed his guilt, and blamed bad company as the main agency that had brought him to such a fearful doom. He told the chaplain the whole story of the crime, and some hours afterwards died 'penitent 'on the scaffold." . . . "The house in which Mrs Franks and her daughter were murdered was the finest and the best situated one in the Abbey. Notwithstanding this, no one would live in it after it had been the scene of so dark a crime, and at last sentiment proved so strong that Lord Blantyre, the i proprietor, felt constrained some years after the murder to raze th6 "' whole property to the ground, and the site of the garden and house is now enclosed in the old ' Kirkyaird park. " ' x ' .- THE AULD BOY. 23$ THE AULD BOY. 1 I kenn'd him first, an' lispit ' Faibey ! ' Whan I was yet a poukin' baby Upo' my minnie's knee, and maybe To her breast prest ; And sune atweel owre a' the Aibey Was I caress'd ! Anon, he was ' Da-da ' and ' Daddy/ And unco thick 2 wi' his ' Wee laddie,' Till I grew ' wicked/ ' wild/ and ' bad ' aye A plague to Mither Whilk, ance he learn'd, haith, 3 I was glad aye To flee his 'Leather!' 4 .; ,7 The same he was to a' the ithers Yon living units ca'd my 'brithers/ My memory of whom ne'er withers, Nor ever can ! Puir John and Sand ! thy weird yet nithers r> This auld gray man ! ' Dad ' was a big, black-visaged carl, An' ugly chield with whom to quarrel ! Ane born to conquer this thrawn warl', Which, even than, He aye had dune, sans part or parle Wi' ony man. 1 The seeming irreverent, but really affectionate appellation of us boys for our father when out of his hearing ! 2 Uncommonly friendly .. :.'; 3 Exclamatory, equivalent to 'lord'! 4 Strap for correction. 5 Shocks ; depresses. 6 Done. . , . . 234 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. He'd ' startit life ' a restless urchin, Ane wham our Granny aft laid birch on, For he was ' rougher than a hurcheon,' l And ' mair self-will'd Than ony pig that strays a-lurchin' Owre tattie 2 field ! ' Excep" some crunkled 3 clouts o' claithing, 4 He just in sooth began wi* naething ; But, in a crack, 5 he was nae wae thing To scorn or pity, Nor was his wark 6 a bairnie's plaything In brugh 7 or city. Whan full up-grown, to turn the scale At auchteen stane he ne'er did fail, Till he had gotten auld and frail, An' shrunk, an' stuntit, And was by Death within Time's pale Close getting huntit. As the ' King Carrier ' of his day He baith was famed and named alway, The twenty years he did essay His weekly journey Between AULD REEKIE and THE BRAE, By Tyne's braid burnie. 8 1 Hedgehog. 2 Potato. 3 Rumpled. 4 Clothing. B In a short unnoted period of time. 6 That of a carrier. 7 Burgh or borough. 8 A literal fact. THE AULD BOY. 235 But he was 'owre ambitious' far To live content and ca' a car ! Sae at a' touns, ayont Dunbar And wast to Currie, He saucht a fiel' whareon life's war To force and hurry. Ane said ' The Abbey Mill's to let/ And on it straucht his heart was set Dreaming, ' Could I that Aiden l get, Tho' I'm nae miller, I'd gar 2 Dame Fortune pettle 3 yet My pickle siller ! ' 4 Sae straucht he ' offer'd for't ' an' gat it, Tho' scores o' richer men did spat it, And some for haill 5 weeks wadna quat it For lairds nor factors, But day an' nicht kept louping G at it Like daft play-actors. A while his ' battle here was sair, 7 The last man left the place sae puir ! 8 And for the mill it made nae mair Than our ain 9 meal ! In mouldy idleness doun there Stude 10 stane an' wheel ! ' n 1 Eden ; paradise. 2 Make. 3 Nourish ; increase. 4 Small cash savings. B Whole. 6 Jumping. 7 Severe. 8 Poor. 9 Own. 10 Stood. u Grinding- stone and water-wheel. 236 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. But they had ane noo, by my sang, Wha'd mak' them boom and birl l ere lang A tasker wha, or ' slack,' or ' thrang,' Wi' pith an' vengeance Wad gar them like our Kirk bells clang, Or Glesca 2 engines ! He coft 3 a gig and canvass'd meal Frae Preston pans to Penmanshiel, 4 And wrocht 5 the ' business' wi' sic skeel 6 That sune ' that kintra, 8 Than him, wad thole 9 nae ither chiel' 10 To ' stow its pantry ! ' For lang years thus, as favourite miller, He gather'd baith respect and siller ; A girnall n toom 12 he'd flee and fill her, Be 't ear' or late ; If guid luck wadna come, he'd till 13 her, And fetch her straight ! He grundit 14 mony a puir man's melder ! 15 The Mill slack noo nane e'er beheld her, But browsters', baxters' 16 ' orders ' swall'd 17 her Till like to burst ! And the Auld Kirk 18 made him an elder, And no' her worst ! 1 Revolve rapidly. 2 Glasgow. a Purchased. 4 Embracing, east and west, a little more than all East Lothian. 5 Wrought. 6 Ability. 7 Soon. 8 Country. 9 Sufier. 10 Other man. " Meal chest. 12 Empty. 13 Go to- 14 Grinded. 15 Meal ground for a farm servant from the remuneration given him in ' kind ' (grain) for his services. 10 Brewers and bakers. 17 Enlarged. 18 Established Church of Scotland. THE AULD BOY. 237 A' that, and yet he lack'd content ! To be a ' farmer ' he was bent ! For Clover Riggs he bade the rent That he did plan ; The factor, wha Dad lang had kent, Wrate ' You're my man ! ' Weel, weel, alake ! l this ill-judged stap Was but the first to Ruin's trap ! Tho' ta'en, jalousing 2 nae mishap, In simple faith, Nathless, 'twas wrang, and hence its c rap Of wae and scaith. 3 The ' land,' a' owre, was as a midden,* Wi' wrack 5 and weeds that sprang unbidden, Like sins in men, not to be hidden If left alive, And not grubb'd up, abjured, gat rid on, That guid may thrive. But maugre this, the warl' itsel', Progressit for a lease ' right well.' The ' farmer ' vraucht 6 his ' land ' pell-mell And ne'er did slack, Yet for his pains, plain truth to tell, Lost every plack ! 1 Alas. 2 Apprehending. 3 Injury. 4 Dunghill. Couch .grass. 6 Tilled. 238 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. He drain'd his fields ' improved them a', Manyoor'd them till the soil did staw ; l Made a' their fences hale an' braw Yetts, 2 dykes, 3 an' stiles Ye wadna 4 seen roun' thereawa Their like for miles ! ' Then loom'd a change ! red War came on, The Slav gat into grips wi' John ; Land value, like Bell's baking scone, 5 Rase 6 high, and higher. For toun half-nabs, 7 ' land-grabbers ' grown, Made a bale-fire. So Dad, still thriving, in his pride Boud 8 noo to tak' anither stride ! Set stout heart to the warld's stey 9 side, And higher clim' ! ' What was ae 10 farm to tend and guide, For men like him ? ' Advice meant ' spite ' ' ane mair ' he'd hae ! And ' ane ' to let, out-owre the brae, 11 He ' offer'd for,' and gat it, tae, Like a'thing else He ettled 12 e'er at in his day, Or true, or false. 1 Was'over rich ; satiated. , 2 Gates. 3 Low stone walls. 4 Would not. 6 Cake of home bread. 6 Rose. 7 Upper-class town people. 8 But. 9 Steep. 10 One. " Over the hill. ia Attempted. THE AULD BOY. 239 This was ' rack-rented ' from the first, Three times rack-rented ere the worst, What time the huge land bubble burst The war had blawn, And markets fell, like imps accurst Of Sawton's spawn ! Slap at War's heels ran ' Rinderpest/ l And Tattie-rot 2 hard on them press'd, Forbye 3 that corn the vera best Brang 4 jimp a third Of a fair-paying price at maist For land and laird. 5 The first lease, too, of Clover Riggs Wore to its end, like ither jigs ; ' It's sae impruved,' quo' factor Spriggs, ' The ferm's wuth dooble ! 6 An " Dad " gie that than " Dad " in't ligs, 7 And nae mair trouble." But, an he wadna toe the scratch, He'd hae to send him his dispatch ! ' There be nae ither wey to catch The Laird's guid-will ! I maun be constant on the watch To nurse his till ! ' 1 The terrible cattle disease so called supposed to be of Russian origin. 2 Potato-disease. 3 Besides. 4 Brought. 5 Expenses of cultivating, and paying the rent of the land to the laird. 8 Worth double. 7 Lies or sits still as tenant. 240 ' The Auld Boy ' bat l his lips, and said 'That ferms 'enoo but barely paid, What wad they, than, were dooble made Their present rents ? For years in bank he hadna laid Three copper cents ! ' This, notwithstanding soon he rued, And slap on that the lease renew'd ! He ' was sae sweir 2 to lea' the lo'ed An' dear auld hame, Whare he sae lang had feucht 3 an' woo'd, And won a name ! ' (And whare, as weel's twa wives, he lost His mither, whan she'd reach'd almost Life's veriest buttock ; and his boast, His strang son, ' SAND ! ' And twa fair dochters 4 ance the toast Of half Scot-land !) Thus he held by the ' place ' ' aye hoping That the ill years wad sune 5 be stopping, Or that the Yankees wad be dropping Their hang'd supplies ! Syne, 6 but fair waather, 7 six-shift cropping The world defies ! ' ^.Bit. 2 Unwilling. 3 Struggled. 4 Daughters. 5 Soon. fl Then. 7 With fair weather. 8 The system of husbandry, so called, then generally practised in the East of Scotland, THE AULD BOY. 241 Ochon the day ! l ' fair waather ' seem'd Existent but in what he dream'd, For, heedless how he pray'd an' schemed, Year after year Pour'd waur and waur 2 their fludes, 3 and stream'd Affa'hisgear! 4 At lang an' last, sans batheration, The ' ill years ' caused his sequestration ! Whan stack-yaird, stocking, habitation Sae cosh ^ and braw ! 6 Were seized and doom'd like ' spoliation ' In Africaw! Syne cam' sic crowds ! astonishing, Despite the glorie vanishing Unto his Roup Displenishing, 7 Whare auctioneers, Tentless 8 what they were banishing, Mock'd a' his years ! Sae in his course our ' Auld Boy ' Had paced life's round of wae 9 and joy ! Whare he began, Fate, to destroy, Had now braucht 10 back Her victim and puir mortal toy, Streetch'd on her rack ! 1 Exclamatory, equal to ' Alas, the day ! ' 2 Worse and Worse. 3 Floods. 4 Saving ; property. 5 Comfortable. 6 Beautiful ; rich. 7 Displenishing sale by auction. 8 Heedless. 9 Sorrow. 10 Brought. Q 242 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. Up frae the very highest 1 stan' To speel 2 Mount Fortune he began, And, ere his prime, the strong-will'd man Stude 3 by the cairn, The richest tit-bits in the Ian' With Big-wigs sharin' ! Ochon the cairn ! he'd clim' it too ! And, without fuss or mair ado, He ettled 4 at it but, wow, wow ! Sad was his case That slippit, fell, an' doun did row 5 To the hill's base ! Auld, stunn'd, and helpless, there he lay, Sorrowing, yet complacent aye ; Back at his source, a ' castaway,' As he was first ! A hero proved, wha, in his day, Een his gifts curst! A braver man ne'er faucht 6 sin doun ; A Scot mair leal ne'er stude 7 in shoon ; A saul mair honest up aboon 8 Ne'er took its flicht, Nor left mair freen's below the moon In sadder plicht ! 9 1 Lowest. 2 Climb. 3 Stood. 4 Started. 5 Roll. 6 Fought. 7 Stood. 8 Above. 9 The following lines were written at his grave, which is within one hnndred yards of the spot of his birth. The ' lines ' firstappeared in the columns of the Haddingtonshire Courier, and are now inserted in this foot- note by request, and for their apparent appropriateness at the end of THE AULD BOY. 243 the forgoing homely sketch. To the lines in the Courier was appended the following brief notice : ' Alexander Lumsden, a singularly robust, and, in one or more ways, a somewhat remarkable man, died, overcome with agricultural disasters and domestic calamities, on the gth of March, 1888, at East Linton, East Lothian, and was buried at Prestonkirk (East Linton) on the I2th of March, a very large concourse of the whole people following his remains to the grave, notwithstanding the fact that the weather on the funeral day was exceedingly cold and stormy.' I give the lines verbatim from the Courier : 'IN PRESTONKIRK CHURCHYARD.' - 'MARCH I2TH, 1888. ' The eastlin' wind blew cauld an' keen, The auld Kirkyaird was clad in snaw, But eastlin' wind an' snaw, I ween, That day I neither felt nor saw. ' My heart was in a coffin there, Slow sinking doun an open grave ; The wide world might be foul or fair For me, sae sunk in sorrow's wave. ' I kenn'd the king that coffin held, As few on earth could ken like me ; And loyal love would not be quell'd, And death but quicken'd memorie. ' My thoughts, like birds, wing'd through the past Dead summers blossom'd fair again ; I saw that king, baith high and fast, Enthroned amang his fellow men. ' The sceptre in his sure hand was The carle stalk integritie ; His croun was truth, and for his cause He claim'd the friend of right to be. 244 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. 'With stern, but kind and valient mien, O'er life's highway he march'd alang ; Whate'er he wish'd, he gain'd bedeen With resolution fix'd and strang. ' But sicker ills pursued the king, f..,,, t i ; His lofty crest was stricken low A thousand times, but nocht could bring That regal heart despair to know. 'Through wreck and ruin, woe and want, Wi' steadfast nerve he held his way, Nor age, nor pain, nor death could daunt That matchless spirit to this day. ' Wi' swelling hearts we leave him here, O may his sleep be deep and blest ! For never on earth's rounded sphere Did truer man or stronger rest.' l 1 He died in his 88th year. COROONIE. 245 COROONIE. 1 ' Discharged ' he smoked and cobbled shune 2 And whisky drank at a' times Whan he could get it 'late or sune 3 Jist as he'd dune 4 in a' climes. A woman hater, he lived aye Lanely himsel' for lang years ; A Black Watch Sairgeant in his day, He was Pope 5 on guns and spears. That ' Scot Immortal/ Sir John Moore, 'Coroonie's' leader years abroad, By him was worshippit before Ev'ry ' hero,' ' saunt,' or ' god ' ! 1 An old Peninsular soldier and reputed servant of Sir John Moore's. In my early days, he was the cobbler to the people of the Abbey and surrounding district, and occupied and wrought in a single room on the ground floor of a tenement in the West End of the village. In his cups, after pension days, he was a very voluble man, and similiar in many other respects to old Scots country ' characters ' particularly in regard to his drinking habits. According to his account, he became Sir John's ' foot sodger,' or servant, in Egypt, and continued in that honourable capacity till the close of the great General's career at the battle of Corunna in Spain, January i6th, 1809. The cobbler acquired his pseudonym of ' Coroonie ' from the familiar and homely way he talked of the scene of the sad and famous fight, but he did not receive his discharge from the army until after Waterloo, at which he was also present, and where, he declared, he performed many absolutely mira- culous ''feats of strategy and derring-do 'I The memorable accounts of his military time he invariably rehearsed, after he had drawn his quarter's pension at the county town, when healways was "on the run." During these merry bouts, the people used to say, he was 'a' gab thegither, an' nae wark ava,' the more noticeably so, as being at all other times re- markably industrious and reticent. 2 Boots and shoes. 3 Soon. 4 Done. 5 The infallible village authority. 246 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. Devoted ' Sairgeant ' ! l in thy time ' Frenchies ' thou didst slay mony ! Reach'd in slauchter the sublime, Carved thy 'glory' out bonnie ! Black Watch Falstaff ! in thy cups Aft I've heard thee ' War ' upon ! A stumpy pipe stuck in thy lips, And, close by, thy ' demijohn ' ! 2 ' Sir John I fallow'd,' thou declared, ' Through a' his raids in Ee-gypt ! Wi' Abercromby, 3 and the laird Of Newbathe, 4 again we shipp'd ' ! 1 His memory and admiration for his old leader ' dear Sir John' ! were'apparently perfect, and, even for an old soldier, quite phenomenal. 2 Many times, when a little boy, I slipped into his ' Den ' with some of the grown up neighbours, and listened awe-struck to his long and marvellous tales of his military experiences and achievements. At such times he would occasionally break down utterly, and weep and scream, and even howl actually as is described in the last quatrain of the ' Rhyme ' at the mere mention of the death of Moore, a melancholy yet ludicrous pass which some of his young male hearers were seldom averse to bringing him to ' merely for the fun of the thing.' The Peninsular portions of his long stories are brought together, and, so far as I can remember, given almost literally in the verses. 3 Sir Ralph Abercromby, a celebrated British Commander, born at Menstry, Clackmannanshire, in 1734. He served his country with great distinction in Ireland, Holland, the West Indies, and in Egypt, and died on board ship on the 28th of March, 1800, from a wound received in action near Alexandria on the 2 1st of March, same year. 4 Sir David Baird, Bart, of Newbyth, East Lothian. Another great British General, and one of the highest of Indian fame the hero of Seringapatara born at Newbyth, the seat of his family, on the 6th of December, 1757 ; died there on the i8th of August, 1829. He succeeded Sir John Moore in the Chief Command of the Peninsular forces. COROONIE. 247 (Triumphant bouser ! wha like thee, Wi' a quarter's pension bless'd ! Wark free, lang days to smoke an' spree, Deil to do but crack an' jest !) Go on Coroonie ! ' Wi' Sir John,' What mair noo ye've had a drink ' ? ' At Sic'ly, an' the Swaidish throne, We made King Gustavus kink ! ' Syne back" to Ingland, and, at last, With a croud to Portoogal Of full ten thousan' strong we passed Ten thousan' rogues mostly all ! ' Sots, fules, 1 an' villains that they pruved But tap sodgers, ev'ry man Whan they furth the drink hells muved, And left looting to their spawn ! ' Arthur Well'sley than they made (For his sober services !) A high Deuk, whan hame he gaed, 2 Whare each ' brave ' sae merry is ! ' Sir Hairy Burrard ? 3 He " resigned " At, for him, a happy time ! And our rale 4 hero, to my mind, Becam' Commander in that clime. Fools. 2 Went. 3 A British General and Commander-in- Chief in Portugal before Sir John Moore. 4 Real, 248 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. ' But doom'd his chairge was frae the first ! " Chief Commander " ! " Sir John Moore " ! ' A " chairge " in mid-hell, at its worst, Wad been preferable, I'm sure ! ' Wearie, destitoot, an' sterving, Sick an' fever'd there we were ! Ane an' a' l for ever swerving After liquor, to kill care ! ' War munitions ? Wow ! we had nane ! 2 Stores, nor magazines en route ! We were as beggars wi' nae bane, 3 Lacking liberty to loot ! 'As Sir John's sodger, I, mysel', Nae doubt, teuk 4 care, day by day, To stow my wame 5 at his Hotel, Kenning weel I'd nocht 6 to pay ! ' Sae, stout an' paunchy at Lis-bone " Sir John's servant " grew aff-haun' ! 7 What was the cause o't, thrang Sir John Never question'd, honest man ! ' On that mairch, besides, I helpit Troops o' comrades in distress ! I e'en stown 8 for them, an' skelpit 9 Aft a lock aff kist 10 or press ! u 1 One and all. 2 None. 3 With no bone. 4 Took. 6 Belly. 6 Nought. 7 Off-hand. 8 Stole. 9 Removed, here. 10 Chest. n Cupboard. COROONIE. 249 ' For boots or blankets few cam' wrang To the sodger of Sir John ! An' they but freends were, by my sang, Few, few left him that gat none ! ' O sweet and happy were those days Ramping, raiding thro' the touns ! At a' our pliskies, 1 ploys, 2 an' plays I was Captain to the loons ! 3 ' But a' our'" looting " wasna 4 sin, 'Cause 'twas needit if we'd live ! They'd promised (Portoogal an' Spain) We'd ne'er want while they'd to give ! ' We cam' amang them for their " good " Their fellest faes 5 to fa' on, And scatter eat them if we could And as order'd by Sir John ! ' And we tholed 6 miseries ilka 7 day, Miseries waur 8 than Job e'er kent ! 9 Thousan's o' strang men d wined 10 away, With their hardships dounricht 11 spent! ' Wherefore I plunder'd, and wad 12 yet Sitooated same as than ! They war' the sinners not to get Rowth 13 o' rawtions ev'ry man ! 1 Tricks. 2 Frolics. 3 Wild fellows. 4 Was not. 5 Foes. 6 Endured. 7 Every. 8 Worse. 9 Experienced. Dwindled ; pined. " Downright. 12 Would. 13 Abundance. 10 250 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. ' Chiel's l dee'd 2 like cattle whan disease Like the Ploory 3 veesits them ! Steal as I could to gie them ease, Death afore me aft was hame ! ' I burglar'd, high-way 'd what ye will Daur'd 4 my sowl's weal for these My fallow suff rers, sterv'd an' ill, Dearer than thon 5 Portoogese ! ' To do this brawly, 6 I boud be 7 Fou 8 fed and strong, and I was ! As Sir John's servant, I was free With his "crumbs" to cram my hause. 9 ' And e'en I did sae you may bet ! I spared nowther 10 grub n nor tod ! 12 My pantry table, whan 'twas set, Groan'd like a Lord's neth 13 its load ! ' When Salamanca we had reach'd Of a' looting I let go, 14 For tho' the "Juntas" still but preaclid, A' the folk there didna so ! ' But here was promised our Sir John A Grand Airmy troops of Spain E'en seven y thousan', but, och-on ! We saucht 15 for ane and fand nane ! 17 1 Fellows. 2 Died. 3 Pleuro-pneumonia. 4 Risked. 5 Yon. 6 Thoroughly. 7 Was bound to be. 8 Full 9 Mouth ; palate. 10 Neither. " Food. 12 Drink. 13 Beneath. " Let quit. 15 Sought. 16 One. 17 Found none, a historical fact. COROONIE. 251 ' And Soult was on us, while Madrid Had fa'en under Nap, 1 himsel' ! Yet Spain lay idle, or jist slid To her skid's end, 2 and there fell ! ' Patrol skirmishing begoud 3 now ; Slade and Paget 4 proved their grit, And at Se-hagun raised a row Whilk 5 fair staggart Gallic wit ! '. But, eh, sirss ! retreat was order'd ! Sir John saw the needfu' stap ! Reinforcement Soult 6 sae sowlder'd, Sune his lines wad shaw 7 nae gap ! ' Weel ! on this retreat I saw, lads, At the toun o' Bembilene, On wrang-doing sich a fa', lads, As Hell ne'er shamed sin' it's been ! 8 1 Napoleon Bonaparte. 2 Slide's end. 3 Began. 4 British Generals under Moore. 5 Which. 6 Nicolas Jean De Dieu Soult, latterly Duke of Dalmatia. He was the son of a notary, but rose by sheer force of character, sang-froid, and ability to be ' Marshal General of France.' Born at St. Amens- la-Bastide, in the department of Teru, on the 2gth of March, 1769, he, in rapid succession, filled the highest posts in the armies of France, and was Chief of the Second Corps in Spain, which pursued the re- treating British to Corunna. Soult, undoubtedly a great soldier, was for long a prime favourite with Napoleon whom, however, he traduced in a book he published after Waterloo. In 1845 h fi retired from active service to his residence at Soultberg, where he died, November 26th 1851. Vide, Chambers's Encyclopaedia, art. 'Soult.' 7 Show. 8 ' The advanced guard, and the main body of the British army, marched ' (from Astorga), ' on the 3Oth of December, for Villa Franca. Sir John Moore, with Paget, and the reserve, followed on the 3ist. 252 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. 1 Our stampede syne to Coroonie Was a bluid-splairged, 1 fearfu' race ! Which made even bauld 2 men spoony, And teuch 3 vet'rans pale of face ! The cavalry reach Camberas at midnight, when the reserve proceeded, and arrived next morning, remaining at the Bembilene, as the preceding divisions were marching off to Villa Franca. Here an unparalleled scene of debauchery presented itself. The stragglers from the preceding divisions so crowded the houses, that there was not accomodation for the reserve, while groups of the half-naked wretches belonging to the Marquis of Romana ' (Spanish general), ' completed the confusion. The French were following so close, that their patrols during the night fell in with the cavalry piquets. When Sir John Moore, with the reserve and cavalry, marched for Villa Franca, on the 2nd of January, he left Colonel Ross, with the 2Oth regiment, and a detachment of cavalry to cover the town ; while parties were sent to warn the stragglers, amount- ing to one thousand men, of their danger, and to drive them, if possible, out of the houses. Some few were persuaded to move on, but the far greater number, in despite of threats, and regardless of the approaching enemy, persisted in remaining, and were therefore left to their fate. The cavalry, however, only quitted the town on the approach of the enemy, and then, from the sense of immediate danger, was the road filled with stragglers, armed and disarmed, mules, carts, women and children, in the utmost confusion. The patrol of Hussars which had remained to protect them, was now closely pursued for several miles by five squadrons of French cavalry, who, as they galloped through the long line of stragglers, slashed them with their swords, right and left, without mercy, while, overcome with liquor, they could neither make resistance nor get out of the way. At Villa Franca, the General ' (Sir John), ' heard with deep regret of the irregularities which had been committed. . . . Magazines had been plundered, stores of wine broken open, and large quantities of forage and provisions destroyed. One man who had been detected in the atrocities, was immediately shot ; and a number -of the stragglers, who had been miserably wounded by the French cavalry, were carried through the ranks, to show the melancholy consequences of inebriety, and the imprudence of quitting their companions ' Chambers's Dictionary of Eminent Scotsmen, art. ' Moore (Sir) John.' 1 Blood-bedaubed. 2 Bold. 3 Tough. COROONIE, 253 ' Soult's twenty thousan' at our heels Gart l us use them featly, 2 squire ! Sae, also, our waggon wheels Shored 3 a' roads to set a-fire ! ' Cairt-loads o' dollars we coup'd 4 doun Mountains higher than Traprain : 5 We couldna tak' them tho' Sir John For the siller sair 6 made mane ! 7 ' Whan that mairch endit, like a' else, And nae ships war' to be seen, 8 1 Made. 2 Actively. 3 Threatened. 4 Tilted. B An abrupt high hill near the middle of East Lothian. 6 Sore. 7 Lamentation. With regard to ' Coroonie's ' statement of the ' cairt loads of dollars,' Dr R. Chambers, in the article quoted from, says that 'on the road to Nagles, the reserve fell in with forty waggons with stores sent from England for the Marquis of Romana's army. As there were no means of carrying them back, shoes, and such things as could be made use of, were distributed to the troops as they passed, and the rest destroyed. On the 5th, the rifle corps, which covered the reserve, was engaged with the enemy nearly the whole day, while everything that retarded the march was destroyed. Two carts of dollars, amounting to twenty-five thousand pounds, were rolled down a precipiece on the side of the road which the advanced guard of the French passed in less than ten minutes thereafter. . . . It was afterwards known that this money fell into the hands of the Spanish peasants.' 8 With regard to this sad fact, Dr Chambers writes: 'Adverse winds had detained the transports, otherwise the whole army would have been embarked before the enemy could have come up. Only a few ships lay in the harbour, in which some sick men, and some stragglers who had preceded the army, and represented themselves sick had embarked. The army, though much fatigued, arrived at its destined position, and in good spirits. Bonaparte, with seventy thousand men had in vain attempted to impede its progress; and its rear-guard, though often engaged, had never been thrown into confusion. But the 254 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. Sir John shouts to me " Never false ! Ilka l Black Watch man's my freen' ! ' " Come Forty-twa ! thou's gang 2 wi' me ? We're no' Forty, but we're twa, Wha swith, 3 this nicht, maun, 4 fair an' free, The morrow's battle plan an' draw '' ! ' " Agreed ! " says I, sae him an' me, Disguised slap-bang as puir men, Sune strack the French posts n'ar the sea, An' fraterneez'd wi' them then ! ' Wi' fuled 5 them richlie 6 ! hoax'd them a' ! Wysed 7 a' out them, bit by bit ; Roosed 8 sae the hoodies, 9 they did craw 10 Show'd us a' thing but their wit ! ' " Rare Forty Second"! laugh'd Sir John, " Thou has pruved n thysel' this nicht One of ten muil'ons ! Solomon Couldna match'd ye in thy micht ! ' " Without ev'n kenning 12 twenty words O' their Lingo, thou didst draw Frae them their numbers guns and swurds 13 Artillery an' cannon a' ! greatest danger was still to be incurred. The situation of Corunna was found to be unfavourable; the transports had not arrived, the enemy was already approaching on the heights, and might soon be expected in overwhelming force.' Chambers's Dictionary of Eminent Scotsmen, vol. iv., p. 38. Edition of 1835. 1 Every. 2 Go. 8 Swiftly. 4 Must. 8 Befooled. 6 Capitally. 7 Wiled. s Praised. 9 Prattlers. 10 Boast gaily. " Proved. 12 Knowing. 13 Swords. COROONIE. 255 ' " Rare Forty Second ! 'Ithout fuss, I maun employ thy grand heid ! x To-morrow's fecht 2 maun noo by us Be a' schemed an' skaitch'd wi' speed ! ' " Come then, my Wallace, come with me, I'se 3 mak' thee yet a great lord ! Gin 4 I can surveeve this rub thou'lt be A Scots yearl 5 yet tak' my word " ! 6 ' Sae we went at it a' that nicht Sir John an' me tho' deid 7 tired- Plotting an' planning till day-licht, Wi' Auld Scotland's juice 8 inspired ! ' Five thousan' barrels o' gunpoother We pat fire till that same day, Which lay negleckit on the shoother O' a mountain owre the bay ! 9 1 Head. 2 Fight. 3 I shall. 4 Should. 5 Earl. 6 ' Coroonie ' was wont to declare to his latest day, that the death of Sir John Moore was even a greater calamity to him individually than it was to the British Empire collectively. 'For,' said he, 'had Sir John livedjowre that battle' (Corunna) 'I wad hae been doing something else than cobblin' bauchles, or drinking whiech like saip-graith this day ! O wearie me ! ! ' 7 Dead. 8 Mountain dew. 9 ' On a hill outside the British posts were found this day five thousand barrels of gunpowder, which had been sent from England, and lay here neglected, though the Spanish armies were in great measure in- effective for want of ammunition. As many barrels as conveyance could be found, for which was but very few, were carried back to Corunna ; the remainder were blown up. The explosion shook the town of Corunna like an earthquake. ' Dr Robert Chambers. 256 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. ' We fired the feck o't, and the blast, Like an airthquake fresh at wark, Out owre the braid sea roaring pass'd, And sair touzled young New York! ' And Soult up-jumpit an' spat bluid ! His dandy snobs squeal'd like hogs, Which, in ould Ireland's times of flude, Go down by hundreds in the bogs ! 'Than lauch'd my Captain, dear Sir John, " Forty Second ! Ye'se be here On our Richt wing, for, my dear son, It's our weakest pint, I fear ! l ' " The Pint of Honour sae 'twill be, And, therefore, Thine ! Thine, I swear ! An thou come frae't, an' bear'st the gree, Thou's be in truth My Son and Heir " ! ' Syne to Heid Quarters we slunk back, Cuist our disguise, and pat on The Garb of Heroes in a crack Twa Scots Heroes, dear Sir John ! ' Our ships, like Britain's paws flung out To snatch her bairns frae that land, Sheuk nervous in the morning route Of haur an' haze alang the strand. 1 ' This dangerous post was held by the 4th, 42nd, and 5oth regiments. The position of the right wing was bad, and would, if forced, have ruined Moore's whole army.' Dr Robert Chambers. COROONIE. 257 ' But, by raid-day, Old Soult began ! l Sir John, on horse, scann'd us a',- And owre the field nane soupler ran To sett on THE FORTY TWA S ! ' " Remember Ee-gypt " ! he rair'd 4 loud, " Let them perish, stand or rin ! Pack them aff the Airth 5 for good ! Forty Second ! Chairge ! and win " ! ' Wi' him amang us, what could " stand " ? Soult's braw masses felt and fled ! But swith, 6 like wreckage on a strand, They lay sprawlin' a' or dead ! 1 'This evening' (the eve of the battle) ' the transports from Vigo hove in sight. . . . The enemy advanced to the height where the powder had been exploded ; and Colonel Mackenzie of the 5th regiment, in attempting to seize upon two of the enemy's guns, was killed Next morning the enemy remained quiet, and it was finally resolved that the embarkation should take place that evening.' 2 'About noon' (of the i6th) 'Sir John Moore sent for Colonel Anderson, to whom the care of the embarkation was confided. . . . At one o'clock his horse was brought, when he took leave of Anderson. .... Mounting his horse, he set out to visit the outposts, and to ex- plain his designs to his officers. On his way he was met by a report from General Hope, that the enemy's line was getting under arms, at which he expressed the highest satisfaction ; but regretted that there would not be light enough to reap all the advantages he anticipated.' Dr Chambers. 3 ' Galloping into the field, he found the picquets already beginning to fire on the enemy's light troops, which were pouring down the hill. Having carefully examined the position, and the movements of the armies, he sent off almost all his staff officers with orders to the differ- ent generals, he hastened himself to the right wing.' Dr Robert Chambers. 4 Shouted. 5 Earth. 6 Soon. R 258 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. ' But some demandit " Whare is he ? Bring our General to us ! ' Him quarter'd safely sail l we see, Or die with him evry cuss ! " 1 Up rade Anderson the cornel 3 (Him Sir John chairged to ship us) As wan's our misery infernal Whan the hill haurs did nip us ! ' Laigh 4 he hung his head an' lootit, 5 Laigh he lootit, but spak' nane ! But his trouble wha could doubt it Wha could doubt that saw his pain ? ' Sudden he stude 6 up and sabbit " " Comrades ! sodgers ! He is sick ! Sick, at last ay, deidly 8 dabbit, 9 By the Gallic Vulture's beak ! " 10 1 Shall. 2 Every man. 'Sir John having ordered up a battalion of the Guards, Captain Hardinge was pointing out to him their position ' (on the right wing), ' when he was beat to the ground by a cannon ball, which struck him on the left shoulder, carrying it entirely away, with part of the collar bone. Notwithstanding the severity of the wound, he sat up, with an unaltered countenance, looking intently on the Highlanders, who were warmly engaged ; and his countenance brightened, when he was told that they were advancing.' Dr Robert Chambers, in his Dictionary of Eminent Scotsmen, vol. iv., Art. Sir John Moore. 3 Colonel. 4 Low. 5 Stooped. 6 Stood. 7 Sobbed. 8 Deadly. 9 Pricked, wounded. 10 'With the assistance of a soldier of the 42nd' (possibly 'Coroonie?') * he was removed a few yards behind the shelter of a wall; Colonel Graham and Captain Woodford, coming up at the instant, rode off for a surgeon. . . . He was borne out of the field by six of the 42nd. COROONIE. 259 ' Och-hon ! och-hon ! 'twas true he said ! I saw him dee ! 1 Held his hand ! But Victory ev'n his face owrespread, It glow'd as he'd seen Happy Land ! ! ' Captain Hardinge remarking, that he hoped he would yet recover, he looked steadfastly at the wound, and said, ' No, Hardinge, I feel that to be impossible. '. . . ' A serjeant of the 42nd ' (was it our 'Coroonie,' I wonder !), ' and two spare files escorted the General to Corunna, while Hardinge hastened to carry his orders to General Hope.' Dr Chambers. ' The following is his friend Colonel Anderson's account of his last moments. " I met the General in the evening of the i6th, bringing in, in a blanket and sashes ; he knew me immediately, though it was almost dark ; squeezed my hand, and said, ' Anderson, do not leave me.' He spoke to the surgeons, while they were examining his wound, but was in such pain, he could say little. "'....' After some time he seemed very anxious to speak to me, and at intervals expressed himself as follows : ' Anderson, you know that I have always wished to die this way." He then asked, " Are the French beaten ? I hope the people of England'will be satisfied. I hope my Country will do me justice. Ander- son, you will see my friends as soon as possible. Tell them everything ! My mother " Here his voice failed, and he was excessively agitated. ... "I have made my will," he continued, "and remembered my servants." . . . ' And then he said to me, " Anderson, remember you go to and tell him it is my request, and that I expect he will give Major Colborne a lieutenant-colonelcy. He has been long with me, and I know him worthy of it." He then asked Major Colbourne if the French were beaten ; and on being told they were, on every point, he said, " It is a great satisfaction to me to know we have beaten the French ... I feel so strong, I fear I shall be a long time in dying. It is great uneasiness it is great pain." ... He thanked the surgeons for their trouble. Captains Percy and Stanley, two of his aides-de-camp, then came to his room. He spoke kindly to both, and asked if all his aides-de-camp were well. He pressed my hand close to his body, and in a few minutes died without a struggle. ' Dr Chambers. ' Thus died Sir John Moore in the forty-seventh year of his age, after having conducted one of the most difficult retreats on record, and 1 Die. z6o RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. Than this, ' Coroonie ' never gat Ae wheet l far'er a' his days, But, whan he raucht 2 it, lang he grat, Syne 3 to Cathie's 4 took his ways! LANG YOUNG TAM. 5 A scourin' fouter was lang young Tarn, Our journalistic deevil, Wha ettled 7 aft at the best to glam 8 By being jimply civil Tho' nae O was his mither, Nor his daddy either, Over their heids, 9 on wings never restin', Over their heids he ruled without question, Tho' nae O was his mither, Nor his auld daddy either ! Up i' th' morning rubbing his e'en, 10 Yawning, raxing, 11 Och-heying ; 12 Ere breakfast was set he was aye on the scene, And never brooking delaying, secured the safety of the army entrusted to him. Few deaths have ex- cited a greater sensation at the time they took place. The House of Commons passed a vote of thanks to his army, and ordered a monu- ment to be erected for him in St. Paul's Cathedral. Glasgow, his native city, erected a bronze statue to his memory, at a cost of upwards of three thousand pounds.' Dr Robert Chambers. 1 Whit. 2 Reached 3 Then. 4 His favourite public house. 5 A young journalist, the successive steps of whose progress are quite accurately albeit ludicrously alluded to in the rhyme. 6 Fellow. 7 Strove. 8 Grasp. 9 Heads. 10 Eyes. n Stretching. 13 Equal to, ' Oh, dear me ! ' LANG YOUNG TAM. 261 For nae spook was his mither, Nor his daddy either, Over the table he blinkit 1 supreme aye, Noting the guid 2 things the sugar and cream aye, For nae ghost was his mither, Nor his auld daddy either ! A fiend of a hecker 3 was Lang Young Tarn, Aschets o' staiks 4 were his quarry ; Ane wad thaucht 5 him a falcon naething could cram 'Spite his bluidless 6 brulzie wi' Barrie ! 7 For nae muff was his mither, Nor his daddy either, Over poor Barrie he tower'd lairge 8 an' regal, Down on poor Barrie he swoop'd like an eagle, For nae muff was his mither, Nor his auld daddy either ! Awa' for the West flew Lang Young Tarn On a cycle as heich 9 as the Czar's ; ' Let them fallow,' quo' he, ' I carena a clam, Let the centaur doun-ride me wha daurs!' For a brick 10 was his mither And his daddy anither Over the country he flew like a swallow- Over the country, high hill and hallow, For nae sloth was his mither, Nor his auld daddy either ! Looked sleepily. 2 Good. 3 Gourmand 4 Large platters of steaks. r> One would have thought. G Bloodless. 7 His first master. 8 Large. High. 10 A notable person. 262 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. At Knox-toun-on-Tyne, wearied Lang Tarn Halted an' rested a spell, Then aff again faster than even he cam' ! ' Hoo muckle ? ' l Nae mortal can tell ! For nae dolt was his mither, Nor his daddy either, Over the Post-road he rade 2 lowse 3 an' lanky, Over the lang leagues he tore like a Yankee For nae drone was his mither, Nor his auld daddy either ! That vera same eve, souple Lang Tam On the hichts * o' Auld Reekie lay ! Wi' the flock o' Saunt Giles, 5 puir panting young lamb, He recruited three weeks and a day ! For nae tod was his mither, Nor his daddy either, Over Auld Reekie he scamper'd an' sweated, Over the Queen's Park he baa'd an' he bleated, For nae wolf was his mither, Nor his auld daddy either ! To ane black Coal Hole neist 7 stray'd Lang Tam, Wiled thereto by a ske 8 knave, Wha wi' promishes specious the laddie did cram, But only sair banes 9 him gave ! For a doo 10 was his mither, And his daddy anither, 1 How much faster. 2 Rode. 3 Loose. 4 Heights. 6 St. Giles' Printing Company. fi Fox ; wild beast. 7 Next. 8 Sly. 9 Sore bmes. 10 Dove. LANG YOUNG TAM. 263 Over their laddie, abstracktit an' dreamy, Over their laddie the Knave seem'd supreme, aye, For a doo was his mother, His auld daddy anither ! But, bless ye ! this kite's wark dune l unto Tam Proved neither fatal nor ill, In the mines o' St. Mungo mair 2 than a balm He fand 3 for't, an' fed on at will ! For a duck was his mither, And his daddy anither, Over the Knave soon his new plumes he flappit, Deep in the kite soon his lang snout he stappit 4 For a duck was his mither, And his daddy anither ! Back in his eyrie, soaring Lang Tam Wi' lear 5 his young crappie doth fill ; His eyrie is whaur 7 few folk ever clamb In the cluds 8 owre Parnassus' Hill ! Jove's bird was his mither, His daddy anither, Over his fellows, laymen an' legal, Over the dullards he soars like an eagle, For Jove's bird was his mither, And his daddy anither ! Done. 2 More. 3 Found. 4 Thrust into. 5 Learning. 6 First stomach ; metaphorically, internal capacity. 7 Where. 8 Clouds, 264 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. JAMIE STEELE. ' COROONIE'S ' contrast, but a ' Pensioner ' Anither ancient sodger I'd present ye, sir, Or madam, as my happy luck may be, Before we of ' The Abbey ' shake us free. Musing on a' the auld folk here I've seen, What thochts l I think, what tears well to my een ! Mouldering they maist 2 are in forgotten yird, 3 Unkenning, and unkenn'd, 4 without ae 5 word Of either praise or blame out owre their heids, 6 To hint what lives they led, what war' 7 their deeds, What thochts they thaucht, 8 what kind o' dreams they dream'd, W 7 hat was their certain worth, or what it seem'd. ' Forgotten,' truly ! nae scribe but mysel' Deems't worth his while to tak' his pen and tell How such a folk, 9 for mony a fatefu' year, Ev'n in this clachan 10 ca'd ' The Abbey ' here, Lived lang, langsyne, 11 and struggled, and wrocht 12 hard, Were ' sober ' sometimes and had their reward ; Or ither times ' gaed 13 on the spree ' like deils, Sang auld warld sangs, and danced their auld warld ' reels,' Laugh'd, grat, 14 or flate an' focht, 15 syne 16 turn'd again, Becam' guid freen's, 17 and a' outcasts amain 1 Thoughts. 2 Mostly. 3 Earth. 4 Unknowing and un- known. 5 One. 6 Over their heads. 7 Were. 8 Medit- ated. 9 People. 10 Little Village. u Long, long ago. l - Wrought ; toiled. 13 Went. Cried. 15 Disputed and Fought. 16 Then. 17 Good friends. JAMIE STEELE. 265 Cuist l to the winds, and a' ' ill-words ' forgot Till the neist 2 carnival re-roused the lot ! ' Auld Jamie Steele, the Airmy Pensioner,' Said he'd been in ' The Greys ' 3 owre twenty year, And he look'd like it, verilie did he, In his bare stockin' soles full sax fit three ! That he stude 4 up to, 'gainst his gavel wa', 5 Whilk 6 neibors 7 o' his ain 8 themsel's ance 9 saw Ae Handsel Monday's 10 blythsome efternune, 11 Whan the guid ^ cheer an' maut 13 had gat abune 14 His unco 15 hicht 10 and icy altitude Of frozen still reserve, and thaw'd his blude 17 He was dischairged ' the back o' Waterloo,' And hame cam' straucht, 18 and there his pension drew, Without devald 1!) doun to his end as still As he'd been quarried whunstane 20 out the Hill. 21 ' Nancy ' his brisk spouse was, and, by my faith, An he were * still,' she spak' eneuch 22 for baith 23 ! She ' keepit a sma' shop,' for aye, atweel, A sicker gatherer o' gear was Steele ; Gin M he war' out, the ' shoppie ' ne'er was toom, 26 And Nannie's gab 26 gaed 27 like a wabster's loom ; 1 Threw. 2 Next. 3 Scots Greys the First Royal Dragoons. 4 Stood. 5 End wall of his house. 6 Which. 7 Neighbours. 8 Own. 9 Once. 10 The first Monday of the year, old style an old Scots festival-day. u Afternoon. 12 Good. 13 Malt ; whisky, etc. 14 Above. 15 Uncommon. 16 Height. 17 Blood. 18 Straight. 19 Intermission. Whinstone. -' Garletonrange, north-west of the village. ^ Enough. ** Both. 24 If. 25 Empty. 28 Tongue. Went. 2 66 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. Yet 'clashing 1 Nanny' was a guid kind sowl, Nane hicher - cramm'd a beggar's awmous bowl, 3 Nane brang 4 a cheerier, fairer face in view, Or help'd the needy mair the clachan 5 through Than this same canty 6 body, ' Nannie Steele/ Did a lang life-time, baith wi' mense 7 an' meal. She had ae 8 bairn only the ane had she, But bonnier wee thing never plaigit 9 me, Whan we war' brats thegither at the schule, 10 And ' Sam ' her slave becam', the love-lorn fule ! n Her Dad, the solemn, sedate Pensioner, And Silent Enemy of sturt and stir, Strade 12 daily through the Village to his wark On Blackie's farm ayont 13 the kirkyaird park. Squire Blackie was a fermin' 'gentleman,' A Great Authority amang his clan, A sort of rural ' Deuk o' Wellington,' The maist w fit captain Steele could licht 15 upon ; Leader and fallower war' sae similar In a' but gear, folk class'd the twa on par. What was the Pensioner's employment ? That few outsiders ever truly kent, He daily to ' The Mains " gaed 16 mony a year, But whaten 17 for, gif 18 ony daur'd to speir, 19 1 Gossiping. 2 Higher. 3 Dish for receiving alms. 4 Brought. 9 Village. 6 Cheery. 7 Discretion. 8 One. 9 Plagued. 10 School. 11 Fool. 12 Strode. 13 Beyond. 14 Most. 15 Fall. 16 Went. 17 What object. 18 If. 19 Dared to enquire. JAMIE STEEL E. 267 He drave them aff wi' little waste o' wind, And bade them short their ain affairs gae mind. Sometimes amang the herds an' flocks awa The great ex-trooper striding people saw ; But what his business was he kenn'd himsel', If not, nae ither saul on earth could tell ! At hantrin l times, some saw him setting flakes, 2 Or driving, Gargantuan-wise, the stakes Ca'd ' blabs,' langsyne for haudin' 3 up the nets That keep within the ' bjeak ' the shepherd sets His feeding sheep or ' hoggs ' 4 upo' the neeps, 5 The lang, lang winters through on Lawland steeps. Steele seldom gomed 6 outsiders ony time, Either in his auld age or in his prime. In his blue bonnet, an' white moleskin suit, He stalk'd alang the Clachan 7 in and out Stern, stiff, an* straucht commanding, dignified ; And unto a', with but one word replied, 'Quid mornin', or ' guid nicht. as it micht be, And pass'd on to his purpose soldierly. Yet there war' neibors, 8 mony, keen to hear The story o' the Warrior's career, Could they hae only wysed 9 him on't to crack, 10 But a' that tried him a' cam' swithly n back, A' swearing that the Man whase name was Steele, Was but as steel in sooth to each appeal ! 1 Occasional. 2 Hurdles. 3 Holding. 4 Sheep after weaning, and under one year old. 5 Turnips. 6 Noticed ; heeded. 7 Little village. 8 Neighbours. 9 Induced. 10 Converse. 11 Swiftly. 268 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. At length the DOMINIE gat smitten too With the grand craze to learn his hist'ry through, And, being ' a man of brains and tact,' ae l day To Nannie he made known what he wad hae, 2 And Nannie promish'd to ' do what she could,' And coax the Pensioner in 's first ' guid 3 mood,' To tell a' owre his life's heroic page To ' this maist 4 famous learn'd man and sage !' Deid true 5 to the compact atween the twa, Nannie, that vera nicht, her ' man ' 6 did draw \ 7 Steele stared atweel as 'twere the Deil he heard, And moonged an' mummelt 8 sair 9 at ilka 10 word, But, at the hinner n end, he grumph'd out glum ' A weel, Guid-wife, e'en let the Gomrell 12 come ! Nannie, enraptured, this her learn'd freen' Advised of prompt, and he ' cam' east ' bedeen. 13 ' Good evening, Sargeant Steele ! ' the Pedant said, ' E'ening/ the Warrior answer'd, none afraid ; ' Nancy has tauld u me that thou's fidgin' fain 15 ' To ken my ongauns 16 in the Great Deuk's train, ' Throo a' the years I follow'd whare he led ? 1 But that's abune 17 my poo'r, 18 sae tak' instead, ' The wee wheen 19 crinches o't I mind myself ' They'll pain as much to hear as me to tell ! ' Into the Greys I listit just before ' Deidly Tournay was feuchan 20 sherp an' sore ! 1 One. 2 Have. 3 Good. 4 Most. 6 Strictly faithful. 6 Husband. " Sound him on the subject. 8 Mumbled and complained. 9 Sore. 10 Every. n Hinder. 12 Stupid fellow. 13 At once. 14 Told. 15 Excitedly anxious. 16 Doings 17 Above ; beyond. 18 Power. 19 Small number. 2 Foughten. JAMIE STEELE. 269 ' And all our battles, down to Waterloo, ' I took my share in ! Noo, sir, will that do ? ' I'm not like some for instance, old Coroonie, ' Wast bye the village, who gets always luna ' At Quarter-pension times, and age and youth ' Deeves l with his narratives of lies and truth, ' About his " great exploits " nae scrimpit - store ! ' And his stoopendous Idol Sir John More ! ' Under the Dook (he was enough for me) ' I did my best, let that suffice for thee, ' Coroonie-wise, "I canna yarn at will, ' Nor wad I care to try't, tho' I'd the skill !' Wi' these plain words, he teuk 3 his cruisie 4 up, And ben the house 5 to bed richt aff did whup, 6 Wi' fine defiant and high sodger air, Like Whig-bufTd Wellington thro' Palace Square. But, ' Losh preserve us a' ! ' fu' loud cried Nannie, ' Ye downa 7 gae 8 to bed 'enoo, my mannie ? ' The Dominie's corned yont, anes-eerand, 9 here, ' To learn the truth about yer haill 10 career ' Thon n awfu' meelytirry sodg'rin' days, ' Whan your tredd wark 12 was unco 13 like yer claes, w ' Bluidy 15 an fearsome, an' yer ain twa hands ' Slash'd mony Frainchies doun in mony lands ! * Touts, touts, my man ! jist tell him what ye can, ' Tho' it's against the grain what odds is't than ? 1(i 1 Deafens. 2 Scanty. 3 Took. 4 Small household lamp. 5 Into the inner apartment. 6 Hasten 7 Cannot. 8 Go 9 Come along, on purpose. 10 Whole. n Yon. 12 Professional employment. 13 Very, here. 14 Clothes. 15 Bloody. 16 Then. 2 yo RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. ' Our neibors round about wad sell their sarks l ' Afif their fat backs to ken o' your least warks ! ' ' Bah ! nonsense, Nancy ! Stand out o' my road ! 'The Dominie, and all his idiot squad, ' Tho' they were threeplet, 2 could not turn one round ' Who 'gainst a whole Soult's troop once stood his ground ! ' Thus, speaking lown, 3 but sternly, he strade ben 4 'Ithout anither cheep to his ain den, Leaving the Pedagogue and Gossip mum, As if their mutual maze had struck them dumb. ' Eh, Maister Creashem ! ' Nannie gasp'd at last ' Excuse him, Maister Creashem ! for the Past ' Jimes cares as little as we twa, I trow, ' Care for the sowp 5 we drank, Kirn-time, at Howe, ' Ere Mistress Creashem culyied 7 ye aff hame ' Afore the bile got back intil yer wame ! ' 8 ' No, Madam Steele ! ' the Dominie replied, ' Thy husband is a man too dignified, ' Too proud, precise, concise, reticent, terse ' (One altogether thy direct reverse ! ) ' To babble, even to me, in vain lip glory, ' The secrets of his great unheard-of story ! ' But, Madam Nancy ! if thou canst acquire '^Aught, e'en the least of it, from thy close squire, ' Step west the village to my house that day ' What time my pupils are giv'n leave to play, 1 Shirts. 2 Trebled 3 Calm. 4 In, further to the interior. B Sup. 6 Harvest-home time. 7 Enticed. 8 Belly. JAMIE STEELE. 271 ' And tell it me, and I shall work it so 'That thou, and I, and all our friends will grow, ' And bloom in Fortune's sunshine in these wilds, ' And propagate a race of Scots Rothchilds ! ' 'Eh, Maister Creashem, na ! ' Nannie laugh'd loud, ' Rothchields doun here wad ne'er be understood ! ' Or, if they blumed ava, sich l blumes, I ween, ' Wad be as flow'rs that blume an' blush unseen, 'And waste their fine smell on the caller 2 air, ' Like gowans 3 L the kirkyaird doun bye there ! ' But, Maister Creashem, I'se keep ye in mind, ' An' what ye've said this nicht, sae vera kind! ' I'll pit the screw on Jimsie, that sail I, ' An' lat ye ken the outcome, by-an-bye ! ' Noo ! Maister Dominie, ye'll taste o' mine, ' Glenleevit saften'd wi' our siller Tyne ? ' Nae better tipple e'er gaed 4 owre Man's craig, ' It's Davie Dure's, 5 and it wad cure the Plague ! ' 6 ' Well ! Mistress Nancy ! As I'm troubled sore ' With a vile cough and cold, I'll pree thy store ! ' The more especially, and readilie, ' As I have snuff d the last of my rappee ! ' So ! Here is thy good health, the Warrior's too ' Our unsung hero of Red Waterloo ! ' Such. 2 Pure ; cool. 3 Wild daises. 4 Went. 5 A well-known licensed grocer in the town, and a Waterloo Veteran also. 6 Cholera. 272 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. WHERE GRANNY LIVED. The vera cities^- that Granny wore I min' yet were such-and-such, Fancying I see her at that door, In her auld ' soobackit mutch ! ' - Nae ' silly shoosie ' 3 faigs 4 was Granny ! She awed the youngsters mair than ' Cloots ' 5 ; Some gomrells 6 said she ' wasna canny/ 7 And bairns seldom cherish doubts. Nor feckless 8 either e'er was Granny ! Furth frae a pow 9 nor sma' nor boss, 10 For ilka strait n she brang 12 a plan aye, And never ance 13 was ' at a loss.' Here in this wee house, ' a' her lane/ 14 Lang years a widow's weird she dree'd, 15 Keepit hens, 16 and wan her ain,' 17 And puirer wretches shared her breid. 18 1 Clothes. 2 A once favourite style for old ladies' caps, or 'mutches,' for indoors, the form of which was humorously said to resemble that of a sow's back. 3 Foolish female. 4 Exclamatory, equal to ' By my word ! ' 5 One of the numerous Scots designa- tions for the devil. 6 Stupid people. 7 Was not unaddicted to witch-craft. 8 Shiftless. 9 Out of a head. 10 Neither small nor empty. n Every difficulty. 12 Brought. 1:! Once. 14 By herself alone. ir> Endured. 16 Kept poultry. 17 Earned her own living. 1S Bread. KATIE SLIGHT. 273 But five and twenty years in pain, Bed-fast, did she lie and dwine ; l Noo, five and twenty mair 2 she's lain 3 In her graf 4 beside the Tyne. 5 My noble gran ! thou pray'd for death, And verilie thy pray'r was heard ! Here a' thou askit for thou hath, But surely mair is thy reward ? KATIE SLIGHT. 6 Proud Katie Slicht and Mathie Skaed, As man and wife, slipp'd into bed. Quo 1 Mathie ' Katie ! lie abreid, 7 Yer legs are cauld as frozen leid, 8 Or e'en thae icicles without, That beard the houses round about ! " 1 Pine away. 2 More. 3 Been lying. 4 Grave. 5 The river Tyne, which flows close by the Churchyard at Prestonkirk, East Lothian, wherein she was buried. She died in her ninety- sixth year. 6 Mrs Mathew Skaed, or Skedd, n/e Katie Slight, or Slicht, was the wife of a village mason, who was widely reputed to have been a 'splendid tradesman,' i.e., artizan. She also kept a ' wee shoppie,' in which she sold much bread, and a few small groceries. She was an ' educated woman,' and refined, and otherwise somewhat above the common villagers of her day. Notwithstanding all this, it was gener- ally believed that she was addicted too much to secret drinking, and notably so when she visited the County Town, purposely to pay her grocer's and baker's bills. It was on one of those expeditions that she ultimately lost her life by drowning, in the River Tyne whether by accident or purpose was never known. This very sad and startling event took place exactly as described in the above ' Rhyme.' 7 Further aside. 8 Lead. s 274 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. Quo' she, ' If my poor limbs are cold, You grumbling dotard ! then be told You mayn't be bother'd with them long, For time is ripe, or I'm far wrong ! Thou'lt mind my words when 'tis too late Ye silly, antic blatherskate ! ' l Albeit there were an Abbey Schule, 2 Sam, and a chum named Geordie Crail, Gat lessons at the County Toun Their Abbey hame a mile aboon, 3 To which the fairest gate, 4 lang syne Was by the bonnie banks o" Tyne.' The water there of that dear river Flows calm an' deep an' gently ever, And in the early budding Spring Afforded boys rare scope to fling Athwart its fish-teeming deep ( Whare aye the great ' twa punders ' sleep The cauld days through, wi' sea-trout mated) Their secret ' lines ' of twine, weel baited Wi' curling worms, on barb'd hooks spitted, And, like a' laddies 5 thereabouts, Our twa were daft on 'catching trouts.' Aneth a knowe, 6 kenn'd as ' High-bank,' Twice daily they their string lines sank ; 1 A talker of nonsense. 2 School. :! Above, up the river. 4 Road. 5 Boys. 6 Beneath a knoll. KATIE SLIGHT. 275 It lies half way 'tween l toun an' clachan, 2 Weel loe'd by poaching Bauldy Strachan ! Wha, in the yearly ' back-end ' 3 spates, Used to net fish by hundredweights ! Ae efternune 4 in gousty Mairch, Whan dool 5 an' dust on wand'rers pairch, Geordie and Sam, freed for the day, Frae schule did hameward mak' their way ; They saw, ' far doun the water side,' Before them-, Katie in her ' pride,' Wha had been at the Toun, perhaps, Squaring accounts for tea and baps ; 6 But whether she'd haen 7 ony skeichan, 8 To 'face the nicht,' whilk 9 was a dreich 10 ane, They couldna tell she was a wee Owre far afore them thaat to see. But gleg-ee'd n Geordie sudden cried, ' O Sam, whare has auld Katie shied ? I hope she's no doun at our lines ? But if she is there will be shines ! 12 But gosh ! 13 whare is she ? Sam let's rin, 14 And draw the lines ere she begin ! ' Awa they sped an' gain'd High-bank Ere many moments mair had sank, Whare a' things kenn'd o' sink at last Into their places in the Past 1 Between. - Town and village. * Late autumnal. 4 One afternoon. 5 Care. 6 Loaves of bread. 7 Had. 8 Intoxicating liquor. 9 Which. 10 Dull ; stormy. " Sharp- eyed. 12 Rows. 13 Exclamatory, equal to But ah ! 14 Run. 276 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. And fand l their lines, and drew them fair, Seeing neither wife nor woman there, The sole regret o' either callan' 2 Being that they had nae trouts to haul in. Twa weeks before, a spate at lairge Had left its record on the marge Neth 3 High-bank, in a ledge o' sand A smooth, fair, bonnie crimson band That fringed baith land an' water braw, 4 And mickle 5 pleased our laddies twa. But wow ! this nicht what was upwash'd, Their ' bonnie bank o' sand,' was ' hash'd!' 6 Some ane, a hunner yairds, 7 or mair, Had ' walkit doun't an' spoilt it sair!' 8 ' Look at thae fitmarks ! O, the brutes, To crush sich beauty wi' their cloots ! ' 9 Whan they had 'drawn 'and 'set 'their baits,' 10 Ere they resumed their hameward gates, 11 Baith noted that the 'fit-marks' stappit 12 Exactly whare the lines were drappit, Just in between the setts belanging To ilk 13 young fisher neither wranging The westmaist, Sam's ; the eastmaist, Geordie's, For they war' twa far-seeing wordies ! u Still, they were boys, and sae the fact Whare the ' marks ' stapt did little act 1 Found. 2 Boy. 3 Under. 4 Gay ; grand. 6 Greatly. 6 Defaced. 7 Hundred yards. 8 Sore. 9 Cloven feet. 10 Boys, then, at least in that district, so denominated their secret fishing lines. These, when ' set,' were generally left all night, or for hours dur- ing the day, unvisited. " Ways. 12 Stopped. 13 Each. 14 Worthies. KATIE SLIGHT. 277 Upo' their young and wanton pows, 1 Which straightway frae the theme did lowse, 2 And urged them hame wi' tentless 3 haste, Whare sune 4 'twas ' clean forgotten,' maist. 5 But no' sae sune ! To Sam's bed-side A stalwart chiel' that'nicht did stride (A freend o' Kate's) wha question'd free Whan and whare last he Kate did see ? And Sam, bold boy, tell't 6 a' he kenn'd, Whareat the lang man growl'd an' graned, For he 'jaloosed ' the ' marks' they fand Upo' the bonnie fringe o' sand, War' luckless Kate's ! 'cause to that hap Her absense, quo' he, pointed slap, And shored 7 the warst 8 a play'd out game, Whare Death wad win ! ' she wasna 9 hame ! ' She had ae bairn, 10 a gentle boy, Up from his birth her ' only joy ' ; Crying, neist morn, to Sam cam' he, Imploring what Sam couldna gie 11 News o' his mither's safety, and Assurance she'd be back aff-hand ! This little follower, shivering, pale, And paler aye as hope did fail, Young as he was, Sam for him felt Sae vera ' baad,' he ' could have knelt 1 Heads. 2 Quit. 3 Careless. 4 Soon. 5 Mostly. 6 Told ; con- fessed. 7 Indicated ; threatened. 8 Worst. 9 Was not. 10 One child. " Could not give. 278 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. E'en to the Maiden?- there an' than, And given his life up like a man, If on his playmate wadna fa' 2 The driedfu' 3 ill his mind did shaw ! ' * Meanwhile, ' the men ' resolved upon Having the boat from Stevenson, 5 To drag the river-bottom o'er As far's High-bank, 'tween shore and shore. Geordie and Sam this project heard, And they'd be in it, by the lord ! ' Raither than schule band 6 them that day The truant twenty times they'd play ! ' And so, nane backward nor afraid, They hid their ' books ' at the Cascade, 7 And saunter'd back to join bedeen 8 The croud now gathering on The Green, 9 Sam telling George they'd ' see the boat Close to the very Cascade float, And, if they dinna 10 get her, then They'll lainch it far'er up, I ken, And dregg richt up as far's our baits, For lying there I think she waits ! Yon fit-marks, Geordie, maun n be hers, Nae ither body that way stirs? 1 The rude machine for effecting public decapitations in Edinburgh in former times. 2 Would not fall. 3 Dreadful. 4 Show ; portend. 6 Seat of Sir John Sinclair, Bart., two miles below the County Town. 6 Bound. 7 A beautiful, albeit artificial, waterfall, about a quarter of a mile above the celebrated old bridge over the Tyne. 8 By-and-bye. u The flat bank of the river between the bridge and the mill, the village rendezvous. 10 Do not. u Must. KATIE SLIGHT. 279 She wad gang on until she fand l A bit to droun her in aff-hand ! - Ane deep eneuch, 3 and at our baits There's water to droun a' the Kates That e'er war' kittled, 4 or will be, Atween the Hill-fits 5 an' the sea ! ' ' Sammy, ye're richt ! ' Geordie rejoin'd, He being of the self-same mind. ' I'se bet ye, Sammy, my best bool 6 They find her in the High-bank pool Gin she be raily 7 droun'd ava, 8 As, gosh ! she must, sin' baith 9 o's saw Her there last nicht, an' she's no' hame, An' if no' droun'd Auld Nick's to blame ! ' The boat was launch'd abune 10 the Brig Whaur smert Dick Scott 11 had a'thing trig ; Mathie and ither fowre l ' 2 gat in Fowre men to row, the ither ane 13 Upo' her expedition drear The fatefu' little bark to steer. Silent she shot out frae the shore, Nae cheers gat she to speed her o'er Her gruesome mission, but, atweel, If wishes guid an' prayers leal, Can bless a boatie she was safe, If e'er was sea or river waif ! 1 Found. 2 At once. 3 Enough. 4 Brought forth ; born 5 The Northern border of the Lammermoors. 6 Marble. ' Really. 8 At all. 9 Both. 10 Above. n The then able and handy man of the village, albeit but a masons' labourer. 12 Other four. 13 One. RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. They durst but twa at ance l let row The ithers had the dreggs in tow, And they war' fashions ! 2 crude cleeks, an' crooks, Grapnels, picks, muck-hawks, and hooks For hauling strae, 3 an' hinging 4 swine That cottars stick an' scrape 5 sae fine, Besides, road-harls, 6 rakes, an" forks, Sae needfu' in maist 7 kintra 8 works, Of siccan 9 gear the boat was fou 10 A' braucht n by simple sauls, 12 I trew, Wha their respect for Mathie spoke But in this fashion true Scots folk ! Between the Brig and the Cascade A noble pool lang, deep and braid Stretches gleaming glassing ever A cloud cortege in the river, Whar banks and woods upturn'd appear A dual warld shadowing clear And March month's sun and mottled skies Inclose a Fairy paradise ! Alas, betimes, things else as weel The thunder wrack, the lichtnin's sweil, The fierce hail-pelt, the driving rain, The forest-tumbling hurricane, Aft in the March days ilk wee while 13 Sour Winter's spleen, sweet simmer's smile ! And now that pool romantic bears The sole ward of a people's pray'rs, 1 Two at a time. 2 Troublesome. 3 Straw. 4 Suspending as dead meat. 5 Slaughter and clean. 6 Scrapers. 7 Most. 8 Country. 9 Such kind of. 10 Full. n Brought. 12 Souls. 13 Every little while. KATIE SLIGHT. 281 The magnet strong that draws a' eyes, The heart of strange anxieties, The cradle of baith l hopes and fears As doubt alternate chills and cheers. At last as auld Dick Scott did plan This ' Stan'in' 2 Water ' a' was drawn, Dreggit an* rakit, 3 ev'ry foot, Yet naething fund 4 worth hauling out, Mair than tree-ruits, 5 bauchles an' bratts, 6 Swain 7 bodies o' droun'd dougs 8 an' cats, Puppies an' kittlins 9 by the score, And luckless crockery galore ! This being sae, past the Cascade The boat was featly 10 ta'en, and laid In her ain u element again, Anither 12 half-mile water-plain, Whare, mid-way up, High-bank is seen Bulging aloft in garb o' green, And whare, as either lad divines, Are lying still their haill 13 six lines ! But here, as nae droun'd 14 folk war' gotten, The croud dispersed this half-way spot on 'Maist 15 but the bairns an eager band Of wondering chits on either strand, 1 Both. 2 Standing, or slow-flowing. 3 Dragged and raked. 4 Nothing found. 5 Roots. 6 Old footwear, and remnants of clothing. 7 Swollen. 8 Drowned dogs. 9 Kittens. 10 Smartly ; cleverly. u Own. 12 Another. 13 Whole. 14 No drowned. 15 Most. 282 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. Whase open minds were stow'd that day Wi' ither l stuff than ' books ' or ' play,' And what that was it was decreed, They'd a' mind till the day they dee'd 2 ! Geordie and Sam, on the North side, Close by the boat, tined 3 a' their pride In anxious thocht 4 an' boyish fear, And a'maist henn'd 5 whan 6 they drew near Those secret, sacred ' baits ' o' theirs Equipt an' set as fellest snares, For tempting, an' for hooking trouts Securely by the gills or snouts, An' haudin' 7 them, till the twa came Wi' glorious glee to tak' them hame ! The boat was at them ! Geordie's first Lay neth 8 its keel, but he ne'er durst Mak' sign, until Dick Scott cried clear ' Hold on ! hold on ! what have we here ? ' And drawing in his grapnel keen Up to the surface poo'd bedeen 9 Ten yairds o' string, with 'sinkers' wechtit, 10 To mak' the ' bait ' lie whare it lichtit, 11 And at its end a twa-pun' ] ' 2 trout, As lang's its owner's sel', about, Whilk had been ' catch'd ' some hours before, And was as deid 13 as nail in door, 1 Other. 2 Died. 3 Lost. 4 Thought. 5 Almost gave in ; lost courage. 6 When. 7 Holding. 8 Under. 9 Pulled immediately. 10 Weighted. n Alighted. 12 Two-pound. 13 Dead. KATIE SLIGHT. 283 Or as kirk sculpts, 1 whilk 2 hav'rels 3 say War' living in Saunt Dauvid's 4 day. Dick pluck'd the fine fish aff the hook, But this was mair than George could brook ; Sae loud he bawl'd ' Scott that's ma line ! An' that's ma trout baith o' them's mine ! ' Dick smiled to hear a ten-year-auld Sing out sae crousely and sae bauld 5 And toss'd the ' grand prize ' to'rds the bank, But it fell short a yaird, and sank ! Geordie's twa ither gins the punt Slode canny owre and gave nae hint. Instanter, syne, 6 the boat shot on, Into that braid 7 and dreaded zone Some twenty paces wide which lay Between their sev'ral ' baits ' that day ! Sam keekit 8 at the ' yellow sand ' Press'd with the ' marks ' alang the strand ; ' They were a woman's foot-prints, sure ? A trim-shod woman so, not poor ? And whatna ane 9 wad 10 come that gate, 11 And gang nae far'er, 12 if not Kate ? ' Straucht doun 13 the middle o' the hemm 14 She plain had come wha impress'd them 1 Figures in stone seen in Old Church walls. 2 Which. 3 Foolish talkers. 4 David I. of Scotland, called otherwise the "sair sanct," and the founder of many ecclesiastical buildings. * Bold. 6 Then. 7 Broad. 8 Peeped slyly. 9 What other one. 10 Would. T1 Way. ia Go no further. 13 Straight down. 14 Fringe ; border. 284 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. Those boding ' marks/ which ev'n this youth Had forced, or guided, to the truth. They pointed doun the water a' Except the vera hin'maist twa, 1 Which at richt angles to the pool, Were set as square's a mason's rule. These war' the last, as said before, The last ' marks' on the sand inshore, And boded to the youthfu' mind The ' men ' wad here some terror find Some horror that wad 2 pay them full For their blank search in the first pool ! Auld Scott this track alang the sand, Like a Red Indian, spied aff-hand, 3 And nearer to the bank, or cliff, The helmsman cried to steer the skiff; Syne, 4 ere a meenit mair 5 had flown, Again shriek'd out ' Hold on ! hold on ! ' The boatmen stay'd their oars in fear, And sat like stanes, owre scaur'd to speir 6 What caused the halt, and seem'd to be Deid feart 7 to hear what sune 8 they'd see ! For they had been ' in hopes ' before, That, as they'd dreggit, 9 shore to shore, Up-stream to this, and naething found Of either man or woman droun'd, Puir 10 Katie still was safe an' sound ! 1 Hindmost two. 2 Would. 3 At once. * Then. 5 A minute more. 6 Too awed to enquire. 7 Dead afraid. 8 Soon. 9 Dragged. 10 Poor. KATIE SLIGHT. 285 The crouds on ilka 1 side the watter A' that war' left sin' the great scatter Were ' muckle 2 o' the wey 3 o' thinkin', That Kate was safe, an' only drinkin' ! Maist likely she'd be hame that nicht, Ma faigs, 4 nae fear o' Katie Slicht ! She ! ! she could turn ye roond her finger, And twenty like ye ! Gang 5 an bring her!' Amang the folk hooever were Three chiels 6 wha couldna ' think ' sae fair Dick Scottie and our twa wee laddies, 7 Three deevils as gleg-e'ed as caddies 8 Doun by Nor'-Berwick, or the spuirrel's That thro' the Laird's wood twists an' twirls, And eats mair nits 9 an' pheasants' eggs Than wad fill mony a cadger's kegs. 10 Auld Dick had twigg'd the ' marks ' at wance n The boat up near them did advance, And drew his sad inference slick, For aye a ' clever carle ' was Dick ! The callants, 12 too, an' even mair As they last nicht had seen her there, Gaeing 13 capering doun the water side In a' her weel-kenn'd u style an' pride Red-shawl'd, an' basket owre her airm, 15 She'd gotten frae auld Maister Ferme, 1 Each. 2 Much. 3 Way. 4 Equal to " My faith !" B Go. 6 Fellows. 7 Two little boys. 8 Sharp-eyed as golfers' servants. 9 More nuts. 10 Carrier's barrels, etc. n Once. 12 Boys, i3 Going, u Well-known. 15 Over her arm. 286 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. For nursing him, whan he grew ill Thro' drinking owre strong tea or yill ! ' Hold on ! Hold on ! ' Dick twice had cried, Nor by th' event was he belied, Nor by the crouds gainsaid one word, For a' stude l stane-still whan they heard His ominous an' startlin' shriek, Unable aucht 2 to think or speak ! Syne, sudden, rose a general ' O ! ! ' An abrupt, lang-drawn cry of woe ! And slap 3 on that ' Look ! It is her ! ' Nor could they mair, nor cry, nor stir, Sae palsied war' they a' wi' fear As Dick up to the surface clear Slow drew the stiff stark form of ane ' Their life-lang neibor, 4 out-an'-in ! ' 5 Whan that her real doom he knew, Her ' Matthew,' brave, and kind, and true, Frae his laigh settle 6 in the stern Sprang upward like a startit erne, 7 Sprang his full hicht 8 and lap 9 owre-board, And raucht 10 the bank, an' raved an' roar'd. Until some pitying neibors came And wysed u him ' fair dementit ' 12 hame. But wha, O wha, wad tell her ' boy,' Whase love for her held no alloy, 1 Stood. 2 Aught. 3 Fast. 4 Neighbour. 5 Always, and all places. 6 Low seat. 7 Startled eagle. 8 Height. 9 Leaped. ie Just reached. " Coaxed. 12 Utterly beyond himself. KATIE SLIGHT. 287 But was affection strong and sweet As e'er was for a mother meet, A love, in sooth, that youth and age, In love with it, did years engage ? Stood forth then on that river side Ane whom the world had bruised and tried, An ancient crone, wha, years agone, A like fatality had'st known, And to her cot a husband dear A mass of mulitated gear Of bones and flesh and blood was brought, Doun from the Quarry whare he'd wrought. She said ' Sam being the boy's chum, ' Thou's help me wi" him ? O yes, come ! ' And Sam nae haet 1 less stunn'd than she Assented, half unconsciouslie ! They found the little lad within His ' mither's room,' but to begin, And break to him the awful tale, Sam felt himsel' ' but fit to fail ! ' The auld dame saw this nat'ral fact, And released him with dame-like tact, But when upo' the ' boy ' the truth Crash'd as an avalanche uncouth, He only heaved ane 2 heart-rung sigh, And utter'd but ane wearie cry, Syne 3 closed his eyes, and fell amain In a deid-dwam 4 , nor rose again 1 Not a bit less. 2 One. 3 Then. 4 Alarming swoon. 288 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. Until, in Doctor Cruikshanks' care, He'd struggled through a twalmonth mair. 1 In time, auld Mat did emigrate Unto some Antipodean state, And teuk 2 wi' him Kate's orphan lad, Since whan, news of them, guid 3 or bad, Has never reach'd their anxious friends, And so this hame-spun hist'ry ends ! Eh, me ! its tragic facts and woe Happ'd mair than fifty years ago ! AULD HANSEL MONDAY DEFUNCT. 4 Haith ! ilk 5 thing changes, a'-thing dees 6 Stars, systems, badgers, butterflees, Kings, kingdoms, fasts, festivities, Fame, fashions, fads A'-thing, and ilka thing that is, To its end hauds ! 7 1 Twelvemonth more. 2 Took. 3 Good. 4 This ' Rhyme ' was written while on a visit to my native locality in January, 1901. In my younger and more gushing days, I wrote another poetic screed on this once great gala day in East Lothian and elsewhere, which was printed in one or more of my former books. To that effusion was appended a prose note, and at the end of the present verses I will transcribe a passage from it, as I think it may interest some of my new readers and friends. 5 Each. 6 Everything dies ; comes to an end. 7 Holds ; proceeds. AULD HANSEL MONDAY DEFUNCT, 289 Ah, wae is me ! what ferlie, 1 then', If Hansel Monday, too, be gane, And sail, 2 amang the sons o' men Be straucht 3 forgotten ? Oursel's, time-press'd, deep in our den, Sail sune be shotten ! 4 Yet, Hansel Monday ! do I see, This day, in this thy main countrie, The ' auld hinds ' laab'ring variouslie, At pleuch an' cairt, 5 E'en cheerie whistling owre 6 the lea, 7 Richt blythe 8 at heart ? I hardly can believe my een 9 That on this yird 10 there can be seen Sich u visible, sich waefu' teen, 12 And lack o' mind, As this that thou'rt discardit clean By herd an' hind ! 13 What ! are we livin' ? At the Toun I frae the railway rushit doun, Half crazy and dementit groun, My staff in hand, Demanding ev'ry porter loon Is this Scot-land ? ' 1 Wonder. a Shall. 3 Straight. 4 Soon be shoved. 5 Plough and cart. 6 Over. 7 Grass or swardland. 8 Right glad. 9 Eyes. 10 Earth. " Such. 12 Provocation. 13 Shepherd and ploughman. T 2 9 o RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. O Hansel Monday ! wearie me ! Wi' nae wae heart nor tearfu' e'e, They cairt, they ploo, 1 they whustle spree, 2 And thou awa ! Gane ! like a sunk ship i' th' sea, Hull, masts, and a' ! ! Sae, Hansel Monday, here I am, Set doun to girn 3 this forlorn psalm, And wail thy memorie, whan sham, For ae haill 4 day, Used to be sack'd like Noah's Ham, That folk micht play ! Ah, Hansel Monday ! What wast thou, Whan, neth 6 his broun an' tousie pow, 6 ' Sam's ' front was brent, 7 an' bauld 8 enow 9 To please e'en Mammie, And mak' his Dad nae wirrycow 10 Think his ' wee Sammy ! ' Owre even a' those rousin' days, Thou, Hansel Monday, highest rase, 11 Thou gat our ' laurel wreaths ' an' ' bays, Our love, heart-born ! The gods wad fail to lisp the praise Due thy warst 12 morn ! 1 Cart and plough. 2 Whistle spry. 3 Cry. 4 One whole. 6 Below. 6 Tousled head. 7 High ; upright. 8 Bold. 9 Enough. 10 No phantom ; apparition. n Rose. 12 Worst ; poorest. AULD HANSEL MONDAY DEFUNCT. 291 The Kintra l owre gaed gyte 2 wi' joy ! Mirth ev'rywhare ruled man and boy! The vera ' bobbies ' 3 wad 4 employ Thy hours carousing ! Pris'ners their jailers ev'n wad foy, 5 And set a-bousing ! What meetings 'tween auld freens 6 an' freens ! What happie children, clean as preens, 7 A' in their dandiest dinkt 8 like queens, And little lords ! A rising host to slay life's spleens, Tho' they are hordes ! Than, 9 Hansel Monday ! day divine ! Born owre a' ither days to shine ! How couldst thou fail ? how didst thou pine ? What cancer ail'd thee, Thou Prince offites (a glorious line !) As a' folk hail'd thee ? Droll Hogmanay, 10 an' wild New Year, Belhaven races, Gifford Fair, Thrang Hiring Friday, 11 and lots mair Than eild 12 can tell ; Thou whupt 13 them a', and, ilka u whare, Didst bear the bell ! Country. 2 Went mad. 3 Policeman. 4 Would. 5 Give a farewell jollification. 6 Old friends. 7 Pins. 8 Dressed out. 9 Then. 10 New Year's day eve. n Local ' field days.' 12 Age. 13 Beat. "Every. 292 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. And still, for a', thou dwined 1 an' dee'd ! 2 E'en like an ord'ner this-warld weed Witch-craft, or ither 3 crack-brain'd creed, That men mak's wud ! 5 Wow, wow ! the doom that thou hast dree'd 4 Mair than cowes cudd ! 6 This auld calf-grund 7 I'se 8 bid fareweel ! I downa thole 9 this blow atweel ! It beats the deaths o' Baird an' Steele 10 By miles an' miles, And sail n my warmest bluid 12 congeal Neth ev'n Sint Giles ! 13 * 1 Pined away. - Died.- 3 Other. 4 Makes insane. 5 Suffered. 6 More than beats everything heard of before. 7 Native locality. 8 I shall. 9 Cannot endure. 10 Two unique local characters. n Shall. 12 Blood. 13 St. Giles Cathedral, Edinburgh. * The following is the passage referred to in the first footnote to the above ' Rhyme ' : Hansel Monday, the first Monday of the new year, was equivalent to Boxing Day in England, etc. Auld Hansel Monday was the first Monday after the I2th of January New Year's Day, old style. Both days originated from the same ancient custom. Up to the period of the Reformation, there were certain well-defined and marked holidays and festival seasons, and Christmas, or Yule, was the chief one in Britain. Prior to the Reformation in Scotland, and in feudal times, it was customary for the lord of the Manor to present his retainers, etc., with a 'box,' or gift, hence Boxing Day. After the overthrow of the Papacy as the established religion, the stern Presby- terian divines, it is recorded, proved themselves so zealous for the new faith'that they even forbade their congregations to observe the ancient holidays, and even Christmas in the northern part of the Island was to be obliterated at once, as advised in every Reformed pulpit in the country. The very hustings of Popery were to be de- stroyed, and not a visible shred of them to remain. In pity, however, those ardent theological reformers for the loss of the old Yule, humanely LEECHMAN'S PILLS. 293 LEECHMAN'S PILLS. IMPORTANT TESTIMONIALS. (Unsolicited.} YE a' hae heard o' Leechman's pills ? (Wha hasna * heard o' Leechman's pills ?) A doctor's drug that never kills Ev'n those wha tak' them ; And cures a-' brute an' human ills, As fast's we mak' them ! granted their devoted followers a gift, or Hansel Day, which they appointed should be the first Monday of the year, old style. In Banff, Fife, Peebles, and other parts, Hansel Monday the first Monday of the year, new style is still in a fashion observed, but it was only in East Lothian that Auld Hansel Monday was recognised and observed in anything like its pristine glory in our day. It was there even only a few years since truly a hallowed name to East Lothian men, women, and children. With it were associated feelings, and thoughts, and fond longings, and memories of the human heart, peculiarly of the tenderest desires and recollections of the family and the fireside circle, and every home tie that a leal and loving heart holds dear. From the busy and confounding towns and cities came the servant girls, the shop boys, and the artisans back that day to their native calf-ground. Whole families were re-united with, here and there, alas, a dear one amissing. In the rapid glance of the eye, in the warm and vigorous grasp of the hand, untold volumes of well- understood meaning were conveyed by Scots men and women to one another on Auld Hansel Monday morning. The village streets, from an early hour, were thronged with visitors. The early trains brought in large numbers from almost every quarter of the country. From the surrounding rural districts came all the day crowds of youngsters, well dressed young men and ' bonnie lassies,' and grave, sagacious-looking, gray-headed Scottish men men the like of whom can be seen, it is said, in no other country. 1 Who has not. 294 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. He won'd l awa doun Steenson 2 way, In a house howkit 3 in the clay, And lived on sautit 4 snails, they say, Wild weeds an' ruits, 5 And brocks G he trapt ere screich " o' day By snouts or cluits. 8 Yet, tho' he dwalt 9 an' fared sae mean, He'd ance 10 a great Professor been Of Occult lore at Aberdeen, His Alma Mater ; But, through some clatter, 11 left it clean, A little later. A grand Professor out o' wark Tho' being extra learn'd an' dark 12 He bauldly 13 steer'd his ill-starr'd bark Whaur u Science bade, And in the depths o' forests dark His haven made. Here he for years was little known, His pills in's heid 15 being barely grown, Altho' some say the seed was sown In the far North, And he but stay'd, till, far'er on, He pruved IG their worth. 1 Dwelt. 2 Stevenson, on the Tyne immediately below The Abbey. 3 Excavated. 4 Salted. 5 Roots. 6 Badgers. 7 Break. 8 Feet. 9 Resided. 10 Once. n Idle slander. 12 Gifted as an author. 1S Boldly. 14 Where. 18 Head. 16 Proved. LEECHMAWS PILLS. 295 The plain truth o' the maitter is, He waited on a wife ca'd ' Biz/ Wha, in a Cavey, 1 near haun hiz, 2 Lived mony a day, A carlin 3 wi' a witch's phiz Keen, auld, an' grey. She was to be his ' Adverteezerj If that his promish'd 4 fee did please her, Whilk 5 e'en it did for what he gies 6 her, To vaunt his pills, Wad stow'd the maw o' Julius Caesar, And pay'd his bills ! Wee Tibbie had the coffin cough, 'Deed a' her life-time, on-an'-off; And Mither gied 7 her a' the stuff That love could gie ; But, deil-may-care, 'twas not enough, Tib but to dee! 8 But jist afore her hinmaist 9 day, The neibor 10 call'd was ' auld an' grey,' Quo' she ' Skelp ll doun the Toll-road brae 12 To Jimsie Steele's, And bid his Nancy sen' this way Some Leechman's peels ! ' 1 Small cave. 2 Near his one. 3 Old woman. 4 Offered ; promised. 5 Which. B Gives. 7 Gave. 8 Die. y Hindmost. 10 Neighbour. n Run quickly. '- Incline. 296 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. Tib had a wally ' doze at wance, 2 An't vrocht 3 her sae, 4 that, in a glance, Ye'd thaucht 5 the lassie e'en wad 6 dance For vera 7 joy, And noo she to the schule 8 can prance Like ony 9 boy ! Auld Andra Bruce roomaticks 10 had In his twa big taes, 11 verra 12 baad; But the Grey- wife says ' Androo, lad ! ' Tho' sair 13 it feels, I'se cure ye, tho' it were the Scaud, 14 With Leechman's peels ! ' Auld Andra hadna ta'en a ' box,' Ere frae the chimla neuk 15 he cocks His twa big taes, 'ithout the socks, And bare as stanes, 16 To pruve to a' his sceptic folks He'd tint their pains ! Young Balder grew as lean's a rake Owre lugs 17 in love wi' Susie Blake And couldna for his life's-bluid 18 take The sma'est morsel, Sae hoo 'twas wi' him guidness 19 sake, We ken by oursel' ! 1 Extra large. 2 Once. 3 Operated. 4 So. 5 Would have thought. 6 Would. ' Very. 8 School. 9 Any. 10 Rheumatics. n Toes. 12 Extra. 13 Sore. " Scurvy. 15 Chimney corner. 16 Stones. 17 Over ears. 1S Blood. 19 Goodness LEECHMAN'S PILLS. 297 The Grey-wife thrappled l him ae nicht 2 (Gaun 3 to High-bank, like Katie Slicht !) And dozed him sae that he outricht Leuch 4 at his ' ills,' Gat Shoosie, an' was made a ' Knicht/ A' throo thae 5 pills ! Scott's Coo, 6 in the deid thraws wi' fivver, 7 Shored sair 8 she wad be nae lang-liver Till that the Grey-wife thrice did give her A mash o' ' peels/ Whilk made her ailment like a river Strone 9 to her heels ! Neist 10 week to n'ar ten pints she milkit, The feck o' twal u the neist she bulkit, And ne'er frae that again she skulkit The simmer through, But daily thrice a brimming full kit Yooph 12 aff her drew. Auld Wullie Wilkie's auld yaud 13 horse (Of jests par excellence our source) Whan reens 14 an* rungs 15 fail'd to enforce The cratur 16 forrit, 17 And Wull's best aith 18 was lost in course, Loud as he swore it, 1 Throttled ; arrested. 2 One night. 3 Going. 4 Laughed. 5 These. 6 Cow. 7 Milk fever. 8 Threatened sore. 9 Spout forth. 10 Next. u The greater part of twelve. 12 Euph ; diminutive of Euphemia. 13 Old mare. 14 Reins. 18 Cudgels. 16 Creature. Forward. 18 Oath. 298 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. Wi' half a ton o' coals ae l day- She reestit 2 on the wee Brig brae, Jist as the ' Wife was auld an' grey ' Cam' stumpin' doun, Roaring like wud 3 ' Wull ! Wull, I say ! Ye donnard 4 loon ! ' Lowse-out 5 the beast, an' bather nane, c The yaud's no' fit to stand her lane, 7 Sae worn is she to skin an' bane, Wi' wark an' hunger! It's nowther 8 aiths, nor whup, 9 nor cane Will ser' ye langer ! ' Gae hame, an* tether her in sta', 10 And I'se gie her a denty ba' n A gross o' peels doun-pouthert sma', 12 An' mixt wi' saim 13 Three times a day, an' nicht an-a', u To purge her wame ! ' 15 Thro' fricht, 16 or greed, this Wullie did, And, sirss, the outcome wasna 17 hid ! ! Within a month the auld meer 18 slid Owre braes the steepest, Whan tons o' coals hint 19 her war' laid, And snaws lay deepest ! 1 One. 2 Stuck ; could or would not proceed. 3 Mad. 4 Stupid. 5 Unyoke. 6 Bother none. 7 Unassisted by herself. 8 Neither. 9 Whip. 10 Stable stall. " Dainty ball. 12 Powdered small. 13 Lard. 14 And night also. 15 Inside. 16 Fright. 17 Was not. 18 Mare. 19 Behind. LEECHMAN'S PILLS. 299 Whan Inflooenza 'grew sae bad/ Fu' mony a lass, fu' mony a lad, Forbye l auld stocks, an' them wha had Sair z will to dee, 3 Upo' the douce 4 Grey wifie ca'd, 5 Fell smert an' slee ! 6 She ' peel'd ' them a', an' pouch'd her fee, And only some o' them did dee ! An ' Adverteezer ' but was she Of a great ' Boss,' Sae ' wasna answerable, ye see, For ony 7 loss ! ' The Cholera and the Sma'-pox cam' The ' peels' were fa'n 8 upon ram-stam ! 9 The drinkers ev'n steer'd 10 ev'ry dram n Wi' dozes o' them, And swore Death ' wasna worth a damn/ And ' ne'er wad know them ! ' ' Haill 12 multitudes o' people died ? ' Nae doubt, that could na be denied ! But than, may be, they hadna tried The Leechman cure, Or, if they had, 'twas misapplied, Ye may be sure ! 1 Besides. 2 Sore. 3 Die. 4 Sedate. B Called. 6 Sharp and cunningly. 7 Any. 8 Fallen. 9 Precipitately. 10 Stirred. 11 Glass. 12 Whole. 300 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. So-so ! The ' peels ' kept selling on ; To grit l dimensions sune 2 had grown The Grey-wife like a soda scone Weel baked an' fired Desired by all, refused by none, Esteem'd, admired ! ' And Leechman's sel', the ex-Professor ? Was he still neth 3 the Censor's pressure ? Whaur 4 was he noo ? 5 O kindly say, sir ! Puir, 6 ill-starr 'd man ! His pills war' never health's aggressor, Nor plague, nor ban ? ' The auld saut-snail 7 consumer ? Why, In a King's Palace he did die, Chokit wi' gowd, 8 and noo doth lie In's Mausoleum To Solomon compared by A' folk that see 'im ! He left the pawtent o' his ' peels ' Unto his offspring canny chiels 9 Wha, if ye ask'd at Nannie Steele's As by ye gaed, 10 Ye should be tauld n they're heid an' heels v2 In the auld trade. 1 Large. 2 Soon. 3 Under. 4 Where. 5 Now. 6 Poor. . 7 Salted snail. 8 Choked with gold. 9 Quiet fellows. 10 Passed ; went. " Told. 12 Heads and heels. THE FAR EAST. 301 The Badger-catcher, ere he dee'd, A glorious Institoot decreed, Whaur Adverteezers l can be fee'd, And fear want never Like princes, from all trouble free'd, Be kept for ever ! THE FAR EAST. 2 ' NORTH-Berwick,' ' Drem ' an' ' Hedinton ! ' 3 ' Coppersmith,' 4 an' ' Elshinfuird ! ' 5 ' Huckston-rigg, 6 an' 'Garvit' toun, 7 Hoo 8 I kinnle 9 at each word ! Hoo I lo'e them yet, O lord ! Hoo my heart a moment stan's, Whan sich simple names are heard, As ' Dumbar ' 10 an' ' Prestonpans ! ' 1 People who advertise for others for a remuneration. 2 In this ' Rhyme ' I have purposely spelled phonetically all the place names given as they were pronounced in the vernacular of the district in my youth, and as they are even yet, generally. This mispronunciation of names is common everywhere, and many of the corruptions must appear unique and droll to strangers, and may well do so even to natives who will take time to notice and think of them. The practice, of course, extends to the names of people. I had an uncle who married a Miss Agnes Alexander, who, during the whole of her life was known only by the appellation given her in her girlhood, to wit, ' Nanny Elshinder ! ' " Haddington. 4 Cockburnspath. 5 Athelstaneford. 6 Ugstonrigg. 7 Garvald village. 8 How. 9 Kindle, 10 Dunbar. 302 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. I first saw licht at ' The Aibey ' 1 Wast a wee 2 aff ' Cowie's Wudd ; ' 3 And at ' Steenson ' 4 a mere baby My bird-raiding life begoud 5 Reiving starlings o' their brood Richt fornenst 6 the Mansion House, Whare the riven Rowan 7 stood, Like a Veteran of The Bruce ! Back unto me in my age (Far remuved 8 in place an' time !) Frae my pen upo' the page Drap auld names, as dews on thyme, Distilling fragrance sweet an' prime, Frae auld fresh-blown memories, Leaving me wi' scarce a styme 9 Of aucht 10 else than love for these ! ' Emsfield ' n ' Autherston,' 12 an' ' Audim,' 13 ' Bowton,' 14 ' Barry,' 15 an' ' Begone ' 16 ' Bankreef,' 17 'Bankfit' 18 (as we ca'd 'em In the. days for ever flown !) Come back to me, auld an' lone, And their vera soun's are moosic To a carle, 19 city-grown, Wha of a' its ' life ' is noo sick ! 1 The Abbey. 2 West a little. 3 Cowe'sWood. 4 Stevenson. 5 Began. 6 Right in front. 7 Rifted mountain ash tree. 8 Removed. 9 The smallest particle. 10 Aught. n Amisfield. 12 Alderston. 13 Auldhame. 14 Bolton. 15 Baro. 18 Balgone. 17 Ballencrieff. 18 Bankfoot. 19 Old fellow. THE FAR EAST. 303 Auld ' Easter-Berfit,' l ' Dungcrayhill,' 2 ' Yowefuird,' 3 ' Dunce,' 4 an' ' Cockinny ! ' 5 (Hoo they pelt back on me still, Till the whalm'd 6 Muse cries 'Dinna!' 7 For I'm fou, 8 an' ev'n of hinny 9 Enow's 10 as guid n 's a feast, ye ken, Sae, dear names, I howp 12 ye winna 13 Just sae fast rin u to my pen !) But we mayna get beyon' ye, Ye sae crop up on' a' hands ! 1 Giffirt,' 15 ' Guilin,' 16 Glegorony/ 17 ' Gilkirston,' 18 ' Skoll-rocks,' 19 an' ' Sands ! ' 20 In the teeth o' a' commands, Ye scud in on memorie, Frae 21 as far up as ' Noolands/ 22 Doun to ' Sautcots,' 23 n'ar the sea ! Tween as far Wast as 'Tirnent,' 24 An' East as far's ' Auldhamstocks,' 25 By ' Spinelsfuird,' 26 an' places kent 27 N'ar ' Lowrince-house,' 28 or ' Patecox ! ' 29 A' the herd upon me flocks Of the pets I lo'e sae fain 30 The auld names of farms an' folks I sail never see again ! East Bearford. 2 Duncrawhill. 3 Eweford. 4 Duns. 5 Cockenzie. 6 Overwhelmed. 7 Do not. 8 Full. 9 Honey. 10 Enough. u Good. 12 Hope. 13 Will not. 14 Run. 15 Gifford. 16 Gullane. " Gleg- hornie. 18 Gilchriston. 19 Scoughal. 12 Tyne-sands. 21 From. 2a Newlands. a3 Saltcoats. 21 Tranent. 25 Oldhamstocks. 26 Spilmersford. Known. St. Lawrence House. ^ Pitcox 30 Love so fondly. 304 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. IN THE FAR EAST. THROUGH Whinny-ha', 1 past Canty-ha', 2 an' Cross-gate- ha' an' a', 3 By Kippie-law, 4 an' Duncan-law, 5 we gaed to Lammer- law; 6 And tho' we back anither 7 track, anither road ran hame, We were as muckle 8 ' ha'd ' an' ' law'd ' on this new gate 9 we came ! ByBenty-ha', 10 an' Rosie-ha', 11 'and Chester-ha' 12 an' a' Doun by Green-law, an' past Hunt-law, 13 we sped frae Lammer-law, Sae ' ha'd ' an' ' law'd, we a' were staw'd, 14 yet a' ' Ha- ha'd ! ' an' a', 15 But made a law, To bind us a' To gang nae mair ava, 16 For a' the laws that e'er were law'd again to Lammer- law ! 1 Near Haddington. 2 On the public road between Haddington and Luggate. 3 Also. 4 Near Traprain. 5 Near Gifford. 6 The highest summit of the Lammermoors (1732 feet), and about three miles south of Gifford. 7 Another. 8 Much. 9 Way. 10 Near Gifford. n Near Haddington. 12 Near Longniddry. 13 Near Pencaitland, Tranent " Satiated ; disgusted ; bored. 18 Also 16 To go no more at all. BALLAD: A TRIP TO DUN BAR. 305 BALLAD : A TRIP TO DUNBAR. 1 AlR ' Last May a Braw Wooer cant donn tJie Lang Glen' Wl' a core o' guid 2 fellows I gaed 3 to Dunbar Of City life groun sort o' sickie Tho' that noble City shines out like a star, And is nae less than Auld Reekie, Auld Reekie ! Our famous, bonnie Auld Reekie ! We travelt thegither my freens an' mysel' In State, wi' the Wifie an' Tittie ; 4 And proud was our train, an' loud did it yell, To cairry sich folk frae the City, the City, To cairry sich Nobs frae the City ! When we got to Dunbar, hoo 5 the people did stare ! Says my freend Nae doubt it's a pity That we are sae grand, while they are sae puir, Buried here sae far frae the City, the City, Like Shetlanders far frae the City ! But throo the great crouds we elbow'd our way, Admired by the dull an' the witty, For unto them a' 'twas as clear as mid-day We were Notable Swells frae the City, the City, Aristocrats straucht frae the City ! 1 This ' Rhyme * was written for an old facetious friend on a real occurrence, and is the second of the five minor pieces mentioned in the Prefatory Note as having once appeared in print before in the columns of a local journal. 2 Good. 3 Went. 4 Sister. 6 How. u 306 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. As we near'd to The Shore 1 the sodgers flock'd out, 2 All weeshin' 3 an' buskit 4 so pretty, Pointing, an' telling their comrades, no doubt, We were the Elite of the City, the City, The biggest Big-wigs of the City ! Frae the sea we gaed 5 back to the noble High Street, Whaur c aften we've warbled our ditty ! And scores o' auld freens fu' couthie 7 did greet, Speirin' 8 Hoo's a' our freends in the City, the City, Were we a' doing weel in the City ? 'Twas out o" the question sich freens 9 to refuse Sae we nippit 10 wi' nane o' them neety ! u And were unco 12 near gettin' the edge o' a booze 13 Whan our train pull'd us aff for the City, the City, Whan the train whupt 14 us aff for the City ! But, wae's me ! Somehoo, thro' the darkness, or drouth, 15 'Tween my freens an' mysel' fell a splittie, 16 In ae carriage they travelt tounward in sooth, In anither ane 17 I saucht 18 the City, the City, In a quite ither car saucht the City ! Part of the Town. 2 From the Barracks near the Shore. 3 Washed. Well dressed. 5 Went. 6 Where. 7 Affable ; kindly. 8 Enquiring. 9 Such friends. 10 Exchanged nips of drink. n Niggardly. 12 Very. 13 Drunken fit. 14 Took suddenly ; snatched. 15 Drought. 16 Division. n Another one. 18 Sought. BALLAD: A TRIP TO DUN BAR 307 There, snug in a corner, sleep closed my auld een, 1 And wakefulness, ever sae flitty, Left me like a corpe, 2 withouten a freen, In a railway train bound for the City, the City, In a train bound for our ain City ! At Prestonpans Station the monster drew up, Wi' a jarr and a jouggle fell gritty, Whilk waukened 3 me sherp, wi' a start an' a loup, 4 For I thocht _ 5 we were hame in the City, the City, Safe back in our cosy auld City ! Sae furth frae 6 the carriage I jamp 7 wi' a birr 8 Thirsting sair 9 for some mair 10 aquavitae ! Which I'd nae suner dune, 11 than the train 'gan to stir, For it wasna 12 just yet at the City, the City, 'Twas nine mile yet east aff the City ! Awa' sped the monster, leaving me 'lone, Like a suicide haunting a jetty, For that train was the last, my bawbees 13 were gone, Sae I but tramp hame to the City, the City, On my auld failing shanks to the City ! But I lichtit my pipe, an' poo'd u doun my hat, After thinking owre't grimly a bittie, And set aff like a Chapman 15 there on the spat, Determined I'd see yet the City, the City, That I'd see ance mair our auld City ! Old eyes. a Corpse. 3 Which wakened. * Leap. 5 Thought. 6 Out of. 7 Jumped. 8 Fury. 9 Sore 10 More. 11 No sooner done. 12 Was not. 13 Money ; ima.ll change. 14 Pulled. 15 Pedlar. 3 o8 RETROSPECTIVE RHYMES. And I did! neist l morn, by three o' the clock, Our door bell jangelt 2 fu' spritty ! 3 But I was sae forfouchten 4 wi' that chancy stroke, I teuk 5 to my bed in the City, the City, For a week an' a day in the City ! 1 Next. 2 Jangled. 3 Sprightly. 4 Worn out ; exhausted. 5 Took. END OF CENTURY RHYMES" I. THE AULD AUCHTEENS. [THE YEARS FROM 1800 TO 1899 INCLUSIVE.] GANE, run out, finish'd ane by anc ! 2 Thou dost bequeathe us mirth and mane 3 Sorrow and gladness joy and pain, And sink'st to dust, As millions erst have sunk amain, And millions must. The Seeventeens, it striketh me E'en tho' I wasna by to see Just as the Nineteens now do thee, Thou jamm'd hard back, And led on, snoovin', wylielie, 4 Thy five score pack. 1 These ' Century Rhymes ' are the remaining three of the five minor pieces stated in the Prefatory Note of this volume as having been once printed before. They were written for and appeared at the dates appended in The Haddingtonshire Advertiser. 2 One by one. 3 Care ; mourning. 4 Moving quietly and imperceptibly. 310 END OF CENTURY RHYMES. O wow ! O wow ! O wow, wow, wow ! Here are ye in thy. death grips now, No' worth eicht * days mair, 2 onyhow, Than a puir 3 knave That comes ' still-born,' and kens, I trow, But womb and grave. Yet hast thy race of stiff five score Braucht 4 to the warl', 5 a plenteous store Of wauchty warks, 6 whilk, evermore, Should them proclaim Time's supreme revellers galore In deathless fame ? Steamships and railways, penny posts, Telegraphs, telephones, and hosts Of lesser funks, are thy fond boasts, And weel may be, For by Auld Nick nae shadowy ghosts In them we see ! ' Electric trams ' and ' Rontgen rays,' Yankee 'notions,' 'jokes,' ' essays,' German ' critiques,' and Paris ' plays,' Real grit and shams, Alang wi' something mair. 's the ' praise ' That thou now crams. ' Science ! ' vide Geology Brimful of dreidfu' 7 knowledge aye ! 1 Eight. - More. 3 Poor. 4 Brought. 5 World. 6 Important works. 7 Dreadful. THE AULD AUCHTEENS. 311 Which needs nae sumph's 1 'apology' But stands a' strokes, Securer than Theology Neth 2 ev'n John Knox ' Trams/ ' motors/ ' cycles/ and, at last, Thy ' turbine engines ' have surpass'd, And former michtiest wonders cast Quite i' the shade Crossing a' seas, and that sae fast, Ev'n Time's gainsaid ! Fell ' Chemistry/ and ither lear', 3 On our auld faiths thou'st braucht to bear, Exploding them in thy shrewd air Like bairns' saip 4 bubbles Leaving us dumb-struck, in despair, To thole 5 our troubles ! Thro' earthquakes, famines, massacres, Wars, mutinies, and ither stirs Dreid pestilences, plagues, and, sirs ! What's waur 6 than a', Thro' sins, conceived and bred as hers, Thou Earth didst draw ! Engulph'd in darksome ignorance, Illiterate and mad at wance, 7 Oppress'd and starved a fearfu' dance Thou led'st our land ! Stringing her sons, like fules 8 in France, In scores aff-hand ! 1 Blockhead's. 2 Under. 3 Other Learning. 4 Soap. 8 Suffer. 6 Worse. 7 At once. 8 Fools. 3 i2 END OF CENTURY RHYMES. Doun to thy Forties, Life was pain To every poor man, wife, and wean ; l Close misery was a' their gain, Hunger and toil ! Disease and death gat swith 2 their ain 3 Of ' good ' and ' vile ! ' The Fifties first begoud 4 to mend Sweerly 5 at first, but, ere their end, Themselves the puir folk hardly kenn'd Sae lusty groun ! In coats and breeks 6 that thou didst send, A' hale 7 and soun' ! And e'en the Tattie 8 Famine folk, Wha frae 9 ' Quid Ireland ' thick did flock, Their lowsie rags for duds 10 did trock n That could be seen, Some 'second-hand,' and some 'bespoke,' Draw, 12 warm, and clean ! Upo' the whole, then, auld Auchteen, 13 A weel-mix'd ' Hunner-year ' thou'st been ; Thou micht hae pruved u a better freen', 15 And, 'deed, a wAitr No' sae far back ran some, I ween, Made Earth a scaur \ 17 1 Child. 2 Swift. 3 Own. 4 Began. 6 Reluctantly. 6 Trousers. 7 Whole. 8 Potato. 9 Who from. 10 Clothes. 11 Trade ; exchange. 12 Rich ; good-looking. 13 Old Eighteen. 14 Proved. 15 Friend. 16 Indeed a worse. 17 Scare. THE AULD AUCHTEENS. 313 Nae doubt, fu' mony a fond conceit, Thou frae our hearts and noddles beat : Auld Hornie l there has lost his seat, And, truth to tell, The vanishment is nigh complete Of hisauld 'Hell!' (Nae minnie 2 cowes 3 her bairnie noo 4 By telling brunstane 5 tales o' you ! * She can but skelp 6 its doupie 7 blue And let it rair, 8 For ev'n the silliest youngster true Thinks thee nae mair ! ) 9 On 'tither 10 hand, thou'st ope'd our eyes, And made our sauls n in rapture rise Seeing in neither earth nor skies ' A vengeful God ! ' Like He whom we did lang surmise In heaven abode ! Close following on his auld ' deception,' Thou gav'st to man a new conception Truer and higher, sans exception Mair worthy Him Than ever mortal yet set lips on To name or limn ! The devil. 2 Mother. 3 Intimidates. 4 Now. 5 Brimstone. 8 Lick. 7 Back ; seat. 8 Roar ; cry. 9 No more. 10 The other. n Souls. 3 1 4 END OF CENTUR Y RH YMES. Noo, dear Auchteen ! here, by the rood, I'm laith x to part wi' thee ' for good ! Thy first-born, in a gracious mood, Gifted my daddy ! Thy auchty-aucht 2 him, as he stood, Snatched frae his laddie ! 3 Grandads, grandams, dad, and mither, Uncles, aunties, sis, and brither, Scores o' cousins a' thegither 4 Thou'st grund 5 to dust ! And me ? if still to strike thou swither, 6 The Nineteens must ! Ah ! thae 7 Ninteens ! what they may bring What wonders thro' the nations ring ! Like Sol's beams, changing ilka 8 thing We see and hear ! Evolving, frae this ' backward spring,' A glorious year ! EDINBURGH, December 2$tA, 1899. 1 Loath. 2 1888. 3 From his boy. 4 Altogether. 5 Reduced. 6 Hesitate. 7 These. 8 Every. THE NE W NINE TEENS. 3 1 5 II. THE NEW NINETEENS. [THE YEARS FROM 1900 TO 1999 INCLUSIVE.] O FOR a prophet ane l to say, On this thy merry natal day, What will be here and far away When thou's run out That certain change Earth must display, And Man to boot ! Merlin, 2 the seer of Ercildoune, 3 Mother Skipton, 4 auld John Broun, 5 And our auld Granny a' are flewn c Far 'yond our hearing, And couldna tell midnicht frae noon Tho' kings were speiring ! 7 Nae doubt, we've wizards still alive Wha on ' foretelling ' seem to thrive ; Sae ' weather forecasts,' hive on hive, Are ' cast ' like bees Like skep 8 bees that for honey strive, Their ' queens ' to please. One. 2 The Strathclyde prophet of the (supposed) Sixth Century, A.D. 3 'True Thomas,' ' Thomas the Rhymer, 'Thomas Lear- mont, of Ercildoune, a village on the Leader, two miles above its junction with the Tweed. 4 An English prophetess. The far-famous Rev. John Brown, of Haddington, author of The Self- Interpreting Bible, etc., etc. 6 Flown. 7 Enquiring. 8 Hive. 316 END OF CENTURY RHYMES. Whyles, 1 noo and than, 2 they licht 3 on truth, Whilk, 4 east and west, an' north an' south Their gulls pass on frae mouth to mouth In proud amaze, Till some grow hairse, 5 some pairch'd wi' drouth, 6 Bumming their praise. But what we want 'enoo is ane Wha rale 7 true prophecies can spin ! Nae Jeremiah fricht 8 to din His ' coming waes,' 9 But an Isaiah joys to win, And high hopes raise ! But if that nowther 10 field nor fell, 11 City street nor moorland dell, Ae 12 prophet yields, I sail 13 mysel' The mantle don, And straucht u this New Year's Day foretell What's coming on ! Before ye see thy latest day 15 The Boer War shall dee awae ; 16 Bauld 17 Britain and Americae Shall rule the roost, Fast France and gurly Germanae Wi' jibes shall joust. 1 Sometimes. 2 Now and again. 3 Fall upon. 4 Which. 5 Hoarse. 6 Agonised with thirst. 7 Real. 8 Fright. 9 Troubles ; disasters. 10 Neither. " Hill. 1-2 A single one. 13 Shall. u Straight away. 15 t December 3lst, 1999. 16 Die away 17 Bold. THE NE W NINE TEENS. 3 1 7 Cheeny 1 shall not deevided be, South Africk be united free ! Rooshy 2 shall gnash her tusks a wee, 3 But grab to her Nae mair 4 than what we're pleased to gie Without demur. Japan shall rise and Cheeny sink, Ireland shall shun bombast like stink, Brave Scotland _to her limbs shall clink England and Wales, And a' the Colonies will link On to her tails ! Thy last year nineteen-ninety-nine Shall see the Boers wi' Britons dine, And mutual mourn their wars ' langsyne ' 5 As ' sins infernal ! ' Then droun their grief in tuns o' wine And wheich 6 fraternal ! But I'se 7 doff here the prophet's cap, And gladly frae his rostrum drap ! Why need I rave on Russ or Jap, Chinee or Boer ? Me to Obscurity's loved lap Ye gods restore ! 1 China. 2 Russia. 3 A little. 4 No more. B Of far back times. 6 Whisky. 7 I shall. 3 r 8 END OF CENTUR Y RH YMES But ere I toss my mantle aff, O ! let me owre that ground ca'd l ' calf ' 2 Mak' my prophetic wings to flaff, 3 And eyes to see, Thro' a' thy croud ev'n thy riff-raff Of years to be ? In thy last nineteen-ninety-nine The New Brig's finish'd over Tyne ! 4 But antiquarians ' can't divine ' Wha Provost wus Whan it was startit, lang, langsyne, Wi' furious fuss ! Some sagely threep 'twas ' Weelim Briggs ' 5 His vera name, like ' Clover Riggs,' Denotes the fact the Great Man ' twigs ' By its ain 6 ring ! (Let learn'd lawyers shake their wigs Plain tntttts tJie tJdng f) Langyester Water 7 sune 8 ran dry, But we hae noo 9 a rare supply ; We tunnel'd Lammer Law 10 sae high And tapp'd the Tweed Abune n Melrose or near thereby Wi' pipes o' leid ! 12 1 Named. z Calf-ground ; native district. 3 Flap. 4 Victoria Bridge, Haddington, the building of which was long and provokingly delayed. 5 William Briggs, Esq., a well- known and much respected Town Councillor and Dean of Guild of Haddington. 6 Own. 7 The main source of supply for the district, but for long a very troublesome one. 8 Soon. 9 Have now. 10 The largest of the Lammermoor Hills. u Above. Lead. THE NEW NINE TEENS. 319 Our streets a are paved wi' carpets noo, Saft 2 for the feet, and fair to view ; Besides, they'll last a century throo, And save the rates Some thousands gif the theory's true The Provost states ! To twal 3 times lairger noo 4 has groun Our auncient auld John Knox's Toun ; Montgomerie's Mills 5 did beat, fell soon, Baith 6 steam and Tyne To grund their 'shepherds yitts' a' doun And ' Bermaline.' 7 We have claith 8 factories a score ! Distilleries and brew'ries more ! Tanwarks twa mile alang Tyne shore ! Schules, 9 coorts, 10 and clubs ! Wash-houses, hospitals, and store O' kirks and pubs ! Electric railways lang we've haen, But maist folk noo to flee are fain ; n In upper air the track's their ain, 12 Fenceless, and free! There ' lairds ' and trespass laws are nane, 13 Nor ' bobbies ' be ? 1 For long deemed ' infamous ' by cyclists and others for roughness and gigantic cobble stones. 2 Soft ; pleasant. 3 Twelve. 4 Now. 8 The celebrated Bermaline Mills, Nungate, Haddington. 6 Both. 7 Shepherd Oats and Bermaline flour, famous products of these mills. 8 Cloth. 9 Schools. 10 Burgh Courts, etc. " Given. 12 Own. 13 None. 3 2o END OF CENTURY RHYMES. Hoo nice at kirk time 'tis to see The crouds o' weel-dress'd Christians flee, Thicker than wild-deuks l frae the bree, 2 Or cushie doos, 3 That rise frae turnip fields on hie 4 Whan 5 man pursues ! Alack ! 6 thae 7 wonders we hae seen, Thro' my twa auld prophetic een, 8 Shall only come when we're a' clean Swept to that bourne, Whase names 9 are grassy hillocks green Round kirks forlorn ! Lord ! let Thy mercies all avail And die not as the years that fail, Like leaves which strow gray Autumn's gale Withouten stop ! Then in our sauls nae 10 ills can quail One heavenly hope! EDINBURGH, NEW YEAR'S DAY, 1900. 1 Wild-ducks. 2 Water. 3 Wood-pigeons. 4 High. 8 When. 6 Alas. 7 These. 8 Eyes. 9 Whose homes. 10 No. RHYMING IN THE NEW CENTURY. 321 III. RHYMING IN THE NEW CENTURY. It strikes ! 'tis twal l o'clock ! 'tis done ! Anither 2 century's begun ! Anither ane auld Time hath run To naucht 3 this hour ! An' yet, tho' myriads he hath won, How dread's his power ! Fill up the jorum 4 till it flow ! We'se 5 never see anither go ! Ere this ane's 6 run, hoo lown 7 an' low We a' sail 8 be ! Blythe New Year morns nae mair 9 will know Or you or me ! But, hark ! the sound of hurrying feet Comes thundering alang the street ! Bells ring, wild cheers arise to greet This rousing morn ! That sees a century complete, Anither born ! A' life gaes 10 forward ne'er lang back Time hath but progress in his pack ; If ' slow,' the carle u is never slack To toddle on, And lend us aye the tither whack, 12 Whan e'er we drone ! 1 Twelve. 2 Another. 3 Nought. 4 Social cup. * We shall. 6 One's. 7 How still. 8 Shall. 9 No more. 10 Moves. n Old fellow. 12 The other lick, x 322 NEW CENTUR Y RHYMES. Weel, weel ! The hunner l years awa' May e'en be missed by ane and a' ! 2 Wha o' them kenn'd a curn 3 ava 4 Say, twa-three score Alas ! their guid 5 things, grit an' sma', 6 Folk know no more ! The ' fine fun ' o' the coaching days ! The schules 7 lang lessons and short plays ; The ' true ' tales about ' ouphes ' and ' fays,' ' Witches ' and ' ghosts. ! ' ' Highwaymen ' lurking owre the braes 8 In perfect hosts ! And ' ghouls,' ' ogres,' waterkelpies,' ' Giants,' ' deils ' to fricht 9 and skelp 10 us, Gif n our ' Scriptures ' couldna 12 help us O, great mishap ! With us, thae 13 moments, tinklers' whalpies 14 Lives wadna swap ! 15 Noo, a' thae dear auld fears are sped ! 'Fore ' knowledge ' they hae slowly fled, Until their awesomeness and dread Have dwindled noo Doun to the merest shadowy shred Ripe age can view ! 1 Hundred. 2 One and all. 3 Number. 4 At all. 5 Good. 8 Great and small. 7 Schools. 8 Over rising grounds. 9 Frighten. 10 Flog. If. 12 Could not. 13 These. 14 Tinkers' puppies. 15 Would not exchange. RHYMING IN THE NEW CENTURY. 323 Our late unfranchised freens l hae votes, And maunna 2 button up their coats, And say, as they could lang syne, ' Totts ! What does it matter ? Folk thrave as weel on Wemyss' " bong motes" As Haldane's " chatter ? " ' 3 Poor wages, working hours as lang As working hours could be made gang ; 4 Dwallings like cruives, 5 whare swine amang Prime swill 6 an' strae 7 Wad 8 ne'er keep life in richt or wrang, 9 Pass fast awae ! ' Parritch ' 10 an' ' crowdie ' u fresh or stale ' Red herrin' ' 12 ' ingans,' 13 ' muslin kail/ u ' Bannocks ' 16 and ' brose ' 16 o' barley meal, ' Sour-dook ' 17 in ' bickers,' 18 Folk shun as snakes to pick an' wale 19 New-fangled ' liquors ! ' ' Sow-backit mutches,' ' snoods,' ' short-gouns,' ' Coal-scuttle bonnets,' ' lappets ' 20 crouns 1 Friends. 2 Must, not. 3 The Earl of Wemyss, and the Rt. Hon. R. B. Haldane, K.C., the Ex-M.P. and present M.P. for East Lothian respectively. 4 Go. 5 Pig-styes. 6 Pig-feed. 7 Straw. 8 Would. 9 Right or wrong. 10 Porridge. 11 Oatmeal and water. 12 Smoked herrings. l3 Onions. 14 Soup made of vegetables and water. 15 Cakes baked on girdles. 16 A pottage made by pouring boiling water on oatmeal. 17 Sour milk. 18 Wooden dishes. 19 Select, choose. * All obsolete articles or items of feminine apparel. 324 NE W CENTUR Y RHYMES. Like Dunbar wrecks, in whilk 1 young loons, 2 The time the ' drave,' 3 Whyles 4 in the sunny afternoons The brine will brave. ' Pads/ ' stiff-stairch'd coats,' and ' crinolines ' That made our darlings like ' divines/ Swall out angelic superfines, I' the gloaming licht, 5 And fenced me aff yon lass o' mine's, Nicht 6 after nicht ! A' these, with the deid 7 century, Are gane ! and, peradventure aye, This may my Muse mak' canter aye Like our cat ' Nap," Wha lacks a limb instanter aye, Whan catch'd in trap ! Yet, sirs ! had we but only these To wail the loss o', peace and ease Micht have doun-sattled, by degrees, On our auld lives In spite o' bathers wi' bawbees, 8 And wapps 9 wi' wives ! But och, och-hon ! that arch-fiend ' Lore/ Hath rifled our sauls' hoarded store ! 1 Which. 2 Wild lads. 3 Time the drave or shoal of herrings being off the Dunbar coast. 4 Sometimes. 5 Light. 6 Night. 7 Dead. 8 Troubles with money. 9 Rows, bickerings. RHYMING IN THE NE W CENTUR Y. 325 Now ' simple faith ' may dwell no more Their bounds within i And doubts usurp, and rin them o'er, Sicker l as sin ! Were it not for that hero Hope, We boud ' 2 to falter without stop Until we fainted, and did drop Beneath our care, Like miners, -whan in vain they grope For licht 3 an' air ! But Hope, Heaven-born, never dies ! But cheers our lives and dries our eyes Whan doubt, or ' science,' robs our skies Of ev'ry star, And we're dung gyte, 4 nor can surmise Ev'n whare we are ! Therefore, may HOPE, this hallow d MORN, Shine brigJit, an' our board-en 5 adorn ! This century I will be sworn For a' Man's race, Sail bring that whilk 7 nae 8 prophets born May guess or trace ! Nae ' prophets,' sure ; but what of ' bards ' ? Are they no seers on the cards ? 1 Immovable, dogged. 2 But. 3 Light. 4 Driven mad. 5 Head of table. 6 Shall. * Which. s No. 326 NEW CENTUR Y RH YMES. Do they not aft fore-cast rewards To their kind freens ? l Whan deil 2 a ' prophet ' them regards, Or to'rds them leans ? Therefore, like Tam o' Ercildoune, An' scores o' ithers roun' an' roun', Wha claim nae prophet's gifted croun, 3 Nor inspired tongue, We dare guess what may happen soon, Or auld or young. Throo-out the century now in, The Boers their lost States shanna fin', 4 But, wanting what they winna 5 win, Be as content As folk wha, craving brigs, had ane, 6 And ne'er mair 7 kent. 8 A NEW ANE, whilk 9 they tried to build, For mony 10 years their best befuled ! n (To build a brig folk maun be schuled, 12 And weel train'd till't ! Syne ! ere the deid 13 century had cool'd, Ane micht u been built ! ) Our streets, within the hunner l5 years, Of coorse sail 1G still graze goats an' steers ; 1 Friends. 2 Devil. 3 Head. 4 Shall not find. 5 Will not. 6 One already. 7 More. 8 Knew, possessed. An allusion to the provokingly long-delayed New Bridge at Haddington. 9 Which. 10 Many. n Befooled. 12 Schooled. 13 Dead. 14 Might have. 15 Hundred. lt5 Ol course, shall. RHYMING IN THE NEW CENTURY. 327 Our highways, public haunts, an' squares, Than x in mid-air, Will rugg 2 nae dread rates unawares Aff rich or puir ! 3 Things sail be remedied a' owre, Our workers will alone have power, And dwall in mansions, dirt or stowre 4 Shall never stain ! Far from the slums whare gentles cow'r, An curse, an' grane ! 5 With reverence then, we hail this day, Waste not it a' on ' ploys ' or ' play/ But let humility have sway, And serious thocht, 6 In fear we slip, or wend astray, To joys ' dear bocht ! ' 7 Its awfu' meanin' comes us over, And shakes us as the wind the clover ; The haill 8 Cosmos our free thoughts cover Stars, ages, space ! Till, mystified, neth 9 them we hover, And hide our face ! ' Stupendous ! ' ' illimitable ! ' The Universe appears a raible 10 1 Then. 2 Force. 3 Poor. 4 Dust. 5 Groan. 6 Thought, concern. 7 Bought. 8 Whole. 9 Beneath. 10 Tangle. 328 NEW CENTUR Y RHYMES. Ev'n Man's astuteness is unable To track or threid l Back far'er than to Thebes or Babel Calf ground o's breed ! O Lord ! Creator and sustainer ! ' Unknown ! ' ' Unknowable ' ! Thine ain ' 2 are, urely, Thy children wha do plainer Strive to see Thee ! Oh ! may this century a gainer To them a' be ! EDINBURGH, ist January, 1901 First Day of the Twentieth Century. IN THE DAWN OF THE NEW ERA. VERSES ENCLOSED IN A LETTER TO MR GEORGE KING AN OLD FARM FRIEND. King George the Last ! I gat thy letter, And, sire, I couldna 3 had it fitter, For I was barglin 4 owre a whitter, 5 With " Paper " Broun Out-threshing its same occult maitter, Whan 'twas flung doun ! 1 Thread. - Own. 3 Could not. 4 Discussing warmly. 5 Social cup. IN THE DA WN OF THE NE W ERA. 329 Broun's a sair vratch l ! (thou kens him weel Yon turk thou threepit 2 wi' at Biel ! ) 3 I'm blow'd, an he no owre my skeel * Nigh had the better, Whan, pat ! burst in our Posty chiel, Wi' thy royal letter ! I tauld 5 our souple 6 freen' about ye, He laugh'd, and said he durstna 7 doubt ye (Auld Reekie 8 has nae keener scoutie 'Mang a' his tribe ! he's baith 9 the baaby 10 and the booty Of Brown the scribe.) n Quo' he ' His Mayjesty is richt, 12 Auld Reekie's in a sairous 13 plicht ? A burlesque in this cent'ry's sicht, A lang-tailed Mock A contradictory Moral Fricht I'm born to dock ! ' Sae, Samil, vrite u and note the King Ane's 15 come this monstrous Farce to ping ! 10 Yea ! a' its hallow shams, by jing Guffaws and groans He's here that sail 17 by ship-loads string To Davy Jones ! 1 Strange wretch. 2 Argued persistently. 3 A well-known place near Dunbar. 4 Ability. 5 Told. 6 Supple. 7 Dared not. 8 Edinburgh. 9 Both. 10 Baby. u Writer, journalist. 12 Right. 13 Serious. 14 Write. 15 One. 16 Beat ; put down. 17 Shall. 330 NEW CENTUR Y RH YMES. ' Deep a' maun sink a' that is f aits e L It canna itherwise, 2 because ! Why, man, I'm ben the Age's hause 3 As far as ony, 4 And diagnose creeds, systems, laws, Flit fast to Jonnie ! ' We'se sweep the Warld's boord, 5 I trow ! We'se mak' a bonfire and a lowe 6 Sail gar 7 your great Vesuvius cowe 8 And crouch for shame That she for fierce or fiery glowe E'er had a name ! ' Kirks ? Kick-shaws ! tubs o' truth an' trash ! Mixt wines and slops a nauseous hash ! Eneuch 9 to bring the water-brash 10 Upon a Black ! n We'se tirl 12 them sune 13 wi' little fash, 14 And that's a fac' ! ' Their buildings ? Poo 16 them doun ? Na, na ! We lo'e the temples best of a' ! But we their pu'pits, grit an' sma', 16 Sail mak' to shine As lichts that truth hersel' will shaw I' mirkest mine ! 1 False. 2 Cannot otherwise. 3 Throat. 4 Any. 5 Board. 6 Blaze. ~ Shall make. 8 Cool down. 9 Enough. 10 Heartburn. n Negro. 12 Uncover, overhaul. 13 Soon. 14 Trouble. 15 Pull. 16 Great and small. IN THE DA WN OF THE NEW ERA. 331 ' Nae mincers ! nae equivocators ! Saying " lovers" meaning haters ! Qualifeeing (silly craiturs ! ) Every sentence With the oppositest maitters Wut, 1 or nonsense ! ' Am I a Socialist ? Far mair - And chief for justice everywhare ! I coddle nowther 3 rich nor puir 4 For pelf nor place ! Nor grab nor grant but what is fair For a' man's race ! Nae 5 wars)? We sail hae instant war ! War to[a feenish, near and far 'Gainst every blot and every scaur, An' sin and shame, That doth full happiness debar Man's humblest hame ! ' Nae peace ? Why, Samil, whare's yer heid ? To what end else does just war lead ? 6 Man ! with your wife, whan disagreed, What fallows sure ? First tirrivees, 7 syne, 8 peace indeed, Deep and secure ! ' Intelligence. 2 More. 3 Neither. 4 Poor. 5 No. 6 Your head. 7 Domestic squalls. 8 Then. NE W CENTUR Y RHYMES. ' Dick Broun !' cried I, ' Dick, wale 1 your words ! At loggerheids, and e'en drawn swurds, 2 I am with either loons or lords Wha daur 3 to hint That Tib an' me have e'er discords, Out bed, or in't ! ' ' Why, Samil ! wad ye bosh me, tae ? 4 A waif that aft mak's mair adae About a trump'ry sark 5 or shae c That lacks a button Than did yon King whase haill 7 array Was made moths' mutton ! ' And if a-bed you twa agree, The gloris news high pleases me ! For tho' I like to hear a lee 8 That pruves invention, I love connubial amitie Beyond a' mention ! ' ' Dick,' I retortit, ' hoos't 9 wi' you ? Is Nellie no' on fit 10 enoo That ye sic freedom doth alloo Yer ain lane lippens ? u Fears she-na, " Dickie " may construe Such " leave " for " licence " ? 1 Choose. 2 Swords. 3 Who dare. 4 Too. 5 Shirt. 6 Shoe. 7 Whole. 8 A lie. 9 How is it. 10 Foot. 11 Trusts so far alone. IN THE DAWN OF THE NEW ERA. 333 ' Like charity, reform begins Whan it is true experience fin's Whaur l it is born, syne outward wins, Just as it grows ; But it nae 2 ribald noisy dins Doth e'er disclose ! ' ' Sam ! this warld's wrang! its " systems " vile! Outrageous contrasts shame its soil, A few surfeiting crouds, the while, For needfu' breid, 3 Chain'd slaves ! in direst misery toil, And doug 4 lives lead ! ' ' Wae's me ! poor Dickie ! but, what syne ? 5 Think ye with blatant bosh supine E'er to command that be divine What's a' through bad ? Na, na ! anither 6 way than thine Succeeds, my lad ! ' Look West, look West ! midst reek and rain, The Warld's redemption springs again, And crinch by crinch 7 the people's ain They're winning back, Comforting multitudes, while nane Is wrang'd one plack ! 1 Where. 2 No. 8 Bread. 4 Dog. 8 What then. 6 Another. 7 Bit by bit. 334 NE W CENTUR Y RHYMES. ' Sae, as of yore out of the East The " Wise Men " tramp'd, their sauls to feast, Do ye the like, my bumptious priest, This verra 'oor^ And learn that " Heaven," just yet, at least, Is immature ! ' Dick ! "step by step " is sure, if slow, And, surely, safest, here below, Whaur every ither rood we go Our course to bar We meet a brute or human foe, Swamp, sea, or scaur ? ' 2 ' Weel, Samil ! ' hen-peck'd Dick rejoin'd, 'To halt a wee I'm whyles 3 inclined, As Nell, ye ken, is of a mind " What is, is best " And, raither than roused woman-kind, I'll face the West ! ' However, to your country crony, King George the Grand, ne'er let on ony 4 But that I am the People's son aye, Their Champion chiel' 5 The Thunderin' Napoleon Bona He faucht at Biel ! 1 Instantly, this hour. 2 Precipice. 3 Sometimes. 4 Say otherwise. 5 Fellow ; leader 6 Fought . IN THE DA WN OF THE NE W ERA. 335 ' Tell him his liegeman's coming out Ance l Nellie weel gets owre this tout, 2 To swear allegiance, kiss his foot, Or Royal tae, 3 And drink his dynasty, to boot, May last for aye ! ' Awa' he set, the gabbie 4 deil Never to do haet mair, atweel ! 5 I've kenn'd him thus harangue wi' skeel 6 And mobs defy, Syne hame the veriest poltroon steal If ' Nell ' drew nigh ! Sae, in thy lug, 7 auld ' neibor 8 Geordie/ Weigh ye the scribbler word by word aye, And mind them just as they accord aye Wi' thine ain notions Of what is slim, and what is sturdy, In thy devotions ! 1 Once. 2 Indisposition. 3 Toe. 4 Talkative. 6 Aught more, indeed. 6 Ability. 7 Ear. 8 Neighbour. THE END. PRINTED BY T. L. ALLAN, EDINBURGH UCSOU'