TRB 


COMICAL  STORIES 


OP 


THRUMMY  CAP 

AND 

THE  GHAIST. 
I      Margaret  and  the  Miaieter. 

SODA  WATER. 


GLASGOW: 

MIirTKD  FOB  xna  BOOKSSyiE-SS, 


mm 


mm 


TH.  HUMM  Y  CAP 


A  TALE. 


In  ancient  times,  far  i'  the  north, 
A  h under  miles  ayont  the  Forth, 
Upon  a  stormy  winter  day, 
Pwa  men  forgather'd  o'  the  way, 
Ane  was  a  sturdy  bardoch  chiel 
An'  frae  the  weather  happit  weel, 
Wi'  a  mill'd  plaiding  jockey-coat 
And  eke  he  on  his  head  had  got 
A  thrummy  cap,  baith  large  and  stout, 
Wi'  flaps  ahind,  as  weel's  a  snout, 
Whilk  button'd  close  aneath  his  chin. 
To  keep  the  cauld  frae  getting  in  ; 
iQpon  his  legs  he  had  gammashes, 
Whilk  sodgers  term  their  spatterdashe* 
An*  on  his  hands,  instead  o'  gloves. 
Large  doddy  mittens,  whilk  he'd  roose 
For  warmness,  an'  an  aiken  stick 
N'ae  verra  lang,  but  unco  thick, 
[ntil  his  neive — he  drave  awa'. 
And  car'd  for  neither  frost  nor  snaw 
fhe  ither  was  just  the  reverse. 


4 

Grow  verra  thick  upon  the  wind, 

Whilk  to  their  wae  they  soon  did  find ; 

A  mighty  show'r  o'  snaw  and  drift. 

As  ever  dang  down  frae  the  lift! 

Right  wild  and  boist'rous  Boreas  roar^. 

Preserves  2  quoth  John,  we'll  baith  be  smor'df 

Our  trystic  end  we'll  ne'er  make  out ; 

Cheer  up,  says  Thrnmmy,  never  dout : 

But  I'm  some  fly'd  we've  tint  our  way, 

Howe'er  at  the  neist  house  we'U  stay. 

Until  we  see  gif  it  grow  fair,*  ^ 

Gin  no,  a'  night  we'll  tarry  there. 

Weel,  weel,  says  Johnny,  we  shall  try# 

Syne  they  a  mansion  house  did  spy, 

Upo'  the  road  a  piece  afore, 

Sae  up  they  gade  unto  the  doon 

Wliere  Thrummy  chappit  wi'  his  stick; 

S}  ne  to  the  door  came  verra  quick, 

A  meikle  dog,  wha  barked  fair. 

But  Tfirummy  for  him  didna  care ; 

He  handled  weel  his  aiken  staff. 

And  spite  o's  teeth  he  kept  him  aff. 

Until  the  Landlord  came  to  see, 

And  ken  fat  might  the  matter  be ; 

Then  verra  soon  the  dog  did  cease  T 

The  Landlord  then  did  speir  the  case 

Quoth  Thrummy,  Sir,  we  ha'e  gane  rill ; 

We  thought  we'd  ne'er  a  house  get  till ; 

We  near  were  smor'd  amo'  the  drift  ;  . 

And  sae,  giideman,  ye'll  mak'  a  shift 

To  gi'e  us  quarters  a'  this  night, 

For  now  we  dinna  ha'e  the  light, 

Farer  to  gang,  tho' it  were  fair  ; 

See  gin  ye  hae  a  bed  to  spare. 


5 


Whatever  ye  charge  we  canna  groage. 
But  satisfy  ye,  ere  we  budge 
To  gang  awa' — and  fan  ^tls  day, 
We'll  pack  out  all,  and  tak  the  way. 
The  Landlord  said,  O'  beds  I've  nane. 
Our  ain  fowks  they  will  scarce  contain  : 
But  gin  ye'll  gang  but  twa  miles  forrel 
Aside  the  Kirk  dwalls  Robbie  Dorret, 
Wha  keeps  a  Change-house,  sells  guid  drink. 
His  house  ye  may  mak  out  I  think. 
Quoth  Thrummy,  that's  owre  far  awa'. 
The  roads  are  sae  blawn  up  wi'  snaw, 
To  mak  it  is  na  in  our  power ; 
For,  look  ye,  there's  a  gathering  shower 
Just  coming  on — you'll  let  us  bide, 
Tho'  we  should  sit  by  the  fire  side. 
The  Landlord  said  to  him,  Na,  na, 
I  canna  let  you  bide  ava. 
Chap  aff,  for  'tis  na  worth  your  while 
To  bide,  when  ye  hae  scrimpt  twa  mile 
To  gang — sae  quickly  aff  you'll  steer. 
For  faith,  I  doubt  ye'll  na  be  here. 
Twa  mile !  quo'  Thrummy,  deil  speed  me. 
If  frae  your  house  this  night  I  jee  ; 
t^o  Are  we  to  starve  in  Christian  land  ? 
As  lang's  my  stick  bides  in  my  hand. 
An'  siller  plenty  in  my  pouch, 
To  nane  about  your  house  I'll  crouch. 
Landlord,  ye  needna  be  sae  rude. 
For  faith  we'll  mak  our  quarters  good. 
Come,  John,  let's  in,  we'll  tak  a  satm. 
Fat  sorrow  gars  you  look  so  blate  ? 
Sae  in  he  gangs,  and  sets  him  dowTa, 
Says  ho,  there'5  nae  about  your  ioym. 


Sail  put  me  out  till  a  new  day. 

As  lang's  IVe  siller  for  to  pay. 

The  Landlord  said,  Ye're  rather  rash* 

To  turn  you  out  I  canna  fash. 

Since  ye're  so  positive  to  hide. 

But  troth  yese  sit  hy  the  fire-side  ; 

I  tald  ye  else  of  beds  I've  nane, 

Unoccupied,  except  hare  ane  ; 

In  it,  I  fear,  ye  winna  ly  ; 

For  stout-est  hearts  has  aft  been  shy 

To  venture  in  within  the  room. 

After  the  night  begins  to  gloom  ; 

For  in  it  they  can  ne'er  get  rest, 

'Tis  haunted  by  a  frightful  ghaist  ; 

Oursels  are  terrified  a'  night, 

Sae  ye  may  chance  to  get  a  sight. 

Like  that  which  some  o'  our  fowk  saw. 

Far  better  still  ye  gang  awa'. 

Or  else  ye'U  maybe  rue  the  day. 

Guide  faith  quo'  John,  I'm  thinking  sae ; 

Better  into  the  neuk  to  sit. 

Than  fla'd,  Gude  keep's,  out  o'  our  wit  ; 

Preserve  us  ever  frae  all  evil, 

I  wadna  like  to  see  the  devil  ! 

Whisht  gcwk,  quo'  Thrummy,  hand  your  peace 

That  sanna  gar  me  quit  this  place  ; 

Nor  great  nor  sma'  I  ne'er  did  ill, 

The  ghaist  nor  deil  my  rest  shall  spill. 

I  will  defy  the  meikle  deil, 

And  a'  his  warks  I  wat  fu'  weel ; 

What  the  sorrow  then  maks  you  si|e  eery? 

Fling  by  your  jfiears,  and  come  be  o 

Landlord  gin  ye'll  mak  up  that  bed^ 

I  promise  111  be  verra  glad. 


7 

Within  &e  same  &'  night  to  He, 

If  that  the  room  be  warm  and  dry* 

The  Landlord  says,  Ye'se  get  a  lire. 

And  candle  too  gin  ye  desire, 

Wi'  beuks  to  read ;  and  for  your  bed, 

I'll  orders,  gie  to  get  It  made. 

John  says,  as  I'm  a  Christian  man, 

Who  never  likes  to  curse  nor  ban. 

Nor  steal,  nor  lie,  nor  drink,  nor  where, 

I'll  never  gang  within  its  door, 

But  sit  by  the  fireside  a'  night. 

And  gang  awa'  whene'er  'tis  light. 

Says  Thrummy  till  him,  wi'  a  glow  r, 

Ye  cowardly  gowk  I'll  mak  ye  cow  r ; 

Come  up  the  stair  alang  wi'  me. 

And  I  shall  caution  for  ye  be. 

Then  Johnny  faintly  gaed  consent 

And  up  the  stairs  to  the  room  they  went, 

Where  soon  they  gat  balth  fire  and  light. 

To  baud  them  hearty  a'  the  night ; 

The  Landlord  likewise  gae  them  meat ; 

A  s  melkle  as  they  baith  could  eat ; 

Shew'd  them  their  bed  and  bade  them  gang 

To  it,  whene'er  they  did  think  lang  ; 

Sae  wishing  them  a  gude  repose 

Straight  syne  to  his  ain  bed  he  goes 

Our  trav'Uers  now  being  left  alane, 

'Cause  that  the  frost  was  nipping  keen, 

Coost  aff  their  shoon,  aud  warm'd  their  feoU 

And  syne  gaed  to  their  bed  to  sleep. 

But  cowardly  John  wi'  fear  was  quaking. 

He  coudna  sleep  but  still  lay  waking, 

Sae  trouhled  with  his  panic  fright,  ^ 

When  near  the  twalt  hour  o'  night, 


lliat  Thnimmy  wakened,  and  thus  spoke. 
Preserve's  !  quoth  he,  Fm  like  to  choak 
Wi'  thirst,  and  I  maun  hae  a  drink  ; 
I  will  gang  down  the  stair,  I  think, 
A  nd  grapple  for  the  water-pail, 

0  for  a  waught  o*  caller  ale  ! 
Johnny  grips  till  him,  and  says,  Na, 

1  winna  let  you  gang  awa' : 

Wow  will  ye  gang  and  leave  me  here 

Alane,  to  die  wl'  perfect  fear  ? 

Rise  an*  gae  wi'  me  then,  quoth  Thrummy, 

Ye  senseless  gude  for  naething  bummy, 

Fm  only  gaen  to  seek  some  water 

I  will  he  back  just  in  a  clatter. 

Na,  na,  says  John,  Til  rather  lye. 

But  as  I'm  likewise  something  dry 

Gif  ye  can  get  jug  or  cap, 

Fesh  up  to  me  a  little  drap. 

Ay,  ay,  quo'  Thrummy  that  I  will, 

Altho'  ye  sudna  get  a  gill. 

Sae  down  he  gaes  to  seek  a  Brink, 

And  then  he  sees  a  blink 

O'  light,  that  shone  upo'  the  floor. 

Out  thro'  the  lock-hole  o'  the  door. 

Which  was  na  fast,  but  stood  a-jee  ; 

Whatever' s  there  he  thinks  he'll  see : 

So  bauldly  o'er  the  threshold  ventures, 

And  in  within  the  door  he  enters. 

But,  Reader,  judge  of  the  surprise. 

When  there  he  saw,  with  wond'ring  eyes, 

A  spacious  vault  well  stor'd  wi*  casks 

O'  reaming  ale,  and  some  big  flasks. 

An'  strldeSiegs  o'er  a  cask  o'  alt. 

He  saw  the  likeness  o'  himsel. 


9 


Just  iQ  the  dres3  that -he  coost  aff^ 
A  thrummy  and  an  aiken  staff, 
Gammashes  and  the  jockey-coat ; 
And  In  its  hand  the  Ghaist  had  got 
A  big  four-legged  timber  bicker, 
Fiird  to  the  brim  wi'  nappy  liquor. 
Our  hero  at  the  spectre  stared. 
But  neither  daunted  was  nor  car'd. 
But  to  the  Ghaist  stright  up  did  step. 
An'  says,  dear  brother,  Thrummy  Cap, 
The  warst  ye  surely  dinna  drink, 
So  I  wi'  you  will  taste  I  think  ; 
Syne  took  a  jug,  pou'd  out  the  pail, 
And  fill'd  it  up  wi'  the  same  ale, 
Frae  under  where  the  spectre  sat. 
And  up  the  stair  wi'  it  he  gat ; 
Took  a  gude  drink,  gae  John  anither, 
But  never  tald  him  o'  his  brithen 
That  he  into  the  cellar  saw, 
Mair  than  he'd  naething  seen  ava, 
Light  brown  and  nappy  was  the  beer: 
Whar  did  you  get  it  ?    John  did  speir. 
Says  Thrummy,  sure  ye  needna  care, 
I'll  gae  and  try  to  get  some  mair, 
Sae  down  the  stair  again  he  goes. 
To  get  o'  drink  anither  dose. 
Being  positive  to  hae  some  mair ; 
But  still  he  fand  the  Ghaist  was  there^ 
Now  on  a  butt  behind  the  door : 
Says  he,  ye  didna  ill  befora 
Dear  brodier  Tlirummy,  sae  1*11  try 
You  ance  again,  because  I'm  dry. 
He  fills  his  jug  stright  out  below^ 
An'  up  the  st^ir  again  dees  |o. 


10 

John  marvelled  saJr,  but  diJna  speir 

Again  where  lie  did  get  the  beer. 

For  it  was  stronger  than  the  first, 

Sae  they  baith  drank  till  like  to  burst. 

Syne  did  compose  themsels  to  rest. 

To  sleep  a  while  they  thought  it  best. 

An  hour  in  bed  they  hadna  been. 

And  scarcely  weel  had  clos'd  their  e  en, 

Whan  just  into  the  neighbouring  charu'or, 

They  heard  a  dreadfu'  din  and  clamour. 

Beneath  thebed-claes  John  did  cow'r. 

But  Thrummy  jumpt  upon  the  floor. 

Him  by  the  sark-tail  John  did  hand  ; 

Lj^e  still,  quoth  he,  fat,  are  ye  mad  ? 

Thrummy  then  gaed  a  hasty  jump. 

And  took  John  on  the  ribs  a  thump. 

Till  on  the  bed  he  tumbled  down, 

In  little  better  than  a  swoon. 

While  Thrummy  fast  as  he  could  rin. 

Set  afF  to  see  what  made  the  din. 

The  chamber  seem'd  to  him  as  light. 

As  gif  the  sun  were  shining  bright ; 

The  Ghaist  was  stanen  at  the  door. 

In  the  same  dress  he  had  afore  ; 

A.nd  o'er  anent  It,  at  the  w^a'. 

Were  ither  apparitions  twa. 

Thrummy  beheld  them  for  a- wee. 

But  deil  a  word  as  yet  spake  he: 

The  spirits  seem'd  to  kick  a  ba'. 

The  Ghaist  against  the  other  twa ; 

Whilk  close  they  drave  baith  back  mud  for©, 

A  t ween  the  chimney  and  the  door. 

lie  stops  a  while  and  sees  the  play, 

f|pe,  rinpin  up,  he  this  did  sfiy, 


11 

Ane  for  ane  may  wed  compare^ 

But  twa  for  ane  is  rather  sair ; 

The  play's  nae  equal,  say  I  vow. 

Dear  brother  Thrummy,  ITl  help  yott. 

Then  wi'  his  fit  he  kicked  the  ha, 

Gard  it  play  stot  against  the  wa'; 

Quick  then,  as  lightning  frae  the  sky, 

The  spectres  with  a  horrid  cry, 

A'  vanished  in  a  clap  o'  thun'er. 

While  Thrummy  at  the  same  did  wonder, 

Tlie  room  was  quiet  now  and  dark. 

An'  Thrummy  striping  in  his  sark; 

Glauming  the  gate  back  to  his  bed. 

He  thinks  he  hears  a  parson  tread. 

An'  ere  he  gat  without  the  door, 

The  Ghaist  again  stood  him  before. 

And  in  his  face  did  staring  stand, 

WI'  a  big  candle  in  its  hand. 

Quoth  Thrummy,  Friend,  I  want  to  knew 

What  brings  you  frae  the  shades  below^ 

I  in  my  Maker's  name  command 

You  tell  your  story  just  aff  hand  ? 

Fat  wad  ye  hae  ? — 111  do  my  best 

For  you,  to  let  you  be  at  rest 

Then  says  the  Ghaist,  '  Tis  thirty  years, 

Since  I've  been  doom  d  to  wander  here  i 

In  aU  that  time  there  has  been  none 

Behav'd  sae  bold  as  ye  have  done : 

Sae  if  you'll  do  a  job  for  me. 

Disturbance  mair  Til  never  gie. 

Sae  on  your  tale,  quoth  Thrummy 

To  do  you  justice  sure  will  try. 

Then  mark  me  weel,  the  Ghaist  replied 

And  ye  shall  soon  be  si^tisfijid : 


12 


Frae  thig  aback  near  forty  year, 
I  of  this  place  was  overseer, 
When  this  Laird's  father  had  the  land^ 
A'  thing  was  then  at  my  command, 
Wl'  power  to  do  as  I  thought  fit. 
In  ilka  cause  I  chief  did  sit : 
The  Laird  paid  great  respect  for  me. 
Bat  I  an  ill  return  did  gie ; 
The  Title-Deeds  of  his  Estate 
Out  of  the  same  I  did  him  cheat, 
And  stale  them  frae  whare  they  did  He, 
Some  days  before  the  Laird  did  die. 
His  son  at  that  time  was  in  France, 
And  sae  I  thought  Td  hae  a  chance 
Gif  he  sud  never  come  again. 
That  the  Estate  would  be  my  ain. 
But  scarcely  three  bare  weeks  were  past. 
When  death  did  come  and  grip  me  fast, 
Sae  sudden  that  I  hadna  pow'r 
The  charter  back  for  to  restore, 
Soon  after  that  hame  came  the  heir. 
And  syne  got  up  the  reefu'  rair. 
What  sorrow  was  come  o*  the  Rights  ? 
They  sought  them  several  days  and  nights 
But  never  yet  hae  they  been  seen, 
As  I  aneath  a  muckle  stane. 
Did  hide  them  i'  this  chamber  wa*, 
W" eel  sew'd  up  in  a  leather  ba* ; 
But  I  was  ne'er  allowed  to  rest 
Until  that  I  the  same  confest ; 
But  this  to  do  I  hadna  power, 
Frae  yon  time  to  this  verra  hoor^ 
That  I- ve  revealU  it  a'  to  you  |  ' 
And  now  I'll  tell  you  ^T^at  (o 


13 

Till  nae  langsyne  nae  mony  kent. 
That  this  same  Laird  the  Rights  did  waai} 
But  now  they  hae  him  at  the  law. 
And  the  neist  owk  the  Laird  maun  diaw. 
Afore  the  court,  the  Rights  o's  land. 
This  puts  him  to  an  unco  stand : 
For  if  he  dinna  shaw  them  there, 
O'  a'  his  lands  he  U  be  stript  bare ; 
Nae  hopes  has  he  to  save  his  'state. 
This  maks  him  sour  and  unco  blate : 
He  canna  think  whar's  Rights  may 
And  ne'er  expects  them  mair  to  see. 
But  now,  my  friend,  mark  what  I  tell^ 
And  ye'U  get  something  to  yoursel. 
Tak  out  the  stane  there  in  the  wa'. 
And  there  ye'll  get  the  leather  ba', 
Tis  just  the  same  that  you  did  see. 
When  you  said  that  you  would  help  me ; 
The  Rights  are  sew'd  up  in  its  heart. 
But  see  you  dinna  wi'  them  part. 
Until  the  laird  shall  pay  you  down 
Just  fifty  guineas  and  a  crown, 
Whilk  at  my  death  was  due  to  me. 
This  for  thy  trouble  I'll  give  thee ; 
And  I'll  disturb  this  house  nae  mair, 
'Cause  I'll  be  free  from  all  my  care. 
This  Thrummy  promised  to  do. 
And  syne  the  Ghaist  bid  him  adieu 
And  vanish'd  with  a  pleasant  sound 
Down  thro'  the  laft  and  thro'  the  ground. 
Thrummy  gaed  back  syne  to  bis  bed. 
And  cowardly  John  was  verra  glad. 
That  he  his  neighbour  saw  ance  m^ir^ 
iFor  of  his  l\i§t  he  did  despair. 


14 

Wow  man^        John,  whare  hae  ]r6«f  bMi^ 

Come  tell  me  a       ye  hae  s^n. 

Na,  bide,  says  Thrummy,  till  day-light. 

And  syne  I'U  tell  you  hale  and  right. 

Sae  baith  lay  still  and  took  a  nap. 

Until  the  ninth  hour  it  did  chap. 

Thrummy  syne  raise,  put  on  his  claes. 

And  to  the  chamber  quick  he  gaes, 

Taks  out  the  stane  into  the  wa% 

And  soon  he  found  the  leathern  ba' ; 

Took  out  the  Rights,  replac'd  the  staiie^ 

Ere  John  did  ken  whar  he  had  been : 

Then  baith  came  stapping  down  the  stair, 

The  morning  now  was  calm  and  fair. 

Weel,  says  the  Laird,  my  trusty  frien*, 

Hae  ye  ought  in  our  chamber  seen  ? 

Quoth  Thrummy,  Sir,  I  nae thing  saw 

That  did  me  ony  ill  ava. 

Weel,  quoth  the  Laird,  ye  now  may  gang. 

Ye  ken  the  day's  na  verra  lang ; 

In  the  mean  time  its  calm  and  clear, 

Ye  lose  your  time  in  biding  here. 

Quoth  Thrummy,  Sir,  mind  what  I  tell, 

I've  mair  right  here  than  you  yoursel. 

Sae  till  Hike  I  here  shall  bide. 

The  Laird  at  this  began  to  chide : 

Says  he,  My  friend,  you're  turning  rude. 

Quoth  Thrummy,  I'll  my  claim  make  good. 

For  here  I  just  before  you  a'. 

The  Rights  o'  this  Estate  can  shaw. 

And  that  is  mair  then  ye  can  do. 

What !  quo'  the  Laird,  can  that  be  true? 

•Tis  true,  quoth  Thrummy,  look  and  0ee, 

D'ye  think  that  I  would  tell  ^  li^^ 


J5 

Parchments  frae  his  pouch  then  drew^ 
And  down  upon  the  table  threw. 
The  Laird  at  this  up  to  him  ran. 
And  cried,  Whar  did  you  get  them,  man  ? 
Syne  Thrummy  tald  him  a'  the  tale, 
As  I've  tald  you,  balth  clear  and  hale. 
The  Laird  at  this  was  fidgln  fain. 
That  he  had  gat  his  Rights  again  : 
And  fifty  guineas  down  .did  tell, 
Besides  a  present  frae  himsel. 
Thrummy  thanked  him,  an'  syne  his  gowd 
Intil  a  muckle  purse  he  stow'd. 
And  cramm'd  it  in  his  oxter-pouch. 
And  syne  sought  out  his  aiken  crutch : 
And,  fare-ye-weel,  I  maun  awa. 
And  see  gin  I  get  thro'  the  sna' ; 
Weel,  fare-ye-weel,  replied  the  Laird : 
But  how  comes  it  ye  hanna'  shar'd 
I   Or  glen  your  neibor  o'  the  money  ? 

Na,  by  my  saul,  I  Sir,  quo'  Thrummy, 
I    When  I  the  siller.  Sir,  did  win, 
I   (To  ha'e  done  this  wad  be  a  sin,) 
I  Before  that  I  the  Ghaist  had  laid. 

The  nasty  beast  had  the  bed. 

And  sae  my  tale  I  here  do  end, 
I  hope  no  one  it  will  offend : 
My  muse  will  na  assist  me  langer. 
The  dorty  jade  sometimes  does  anger, 
I  thought  her  ance  a  gay  smart  lass. 
But  now  she's  come  to  sic  a  pass. 
That  a'  my  cudgeling  and  wheeping. 
Will  hardly-  wake  her  out  o'  sleeping ; 
To  plague  her  mair  I  winna  try. 
But  dight  my  pen  and  lay  it  by. 


THE 

OOMIO  TALB 


or 

MAJIGARET  aUd  the  MINISTER 


A  douse,  religious,  kintry  wife. 
That  llv'd  a  quiet  contented  life. 
To  show  respect  unto  the  priest. 
Whom  she  esteem'd  within  her  breast. 
Catch' d  twa  fat  hens,  baith  big  an'  plump^ 
An'  butter  she  pack'd  up  a  lump, 
Which  she  a  present  meant  to  gi'e  him, 
And  wi'  them  afF  she  gaed  to  see  him. 
Dress'd  in  her  ain  auld  kintry  fas'on, 
Wi*  brown  stuff  gown,  an'  braw  white  bussiu, 
A  dark  blue  cloak  an'  hood  co'er'd  a', 
Sae  lade,  sae  clad,  she  march'd  awa; 
Thus  trudg'd  alang — an'  hence  belyve. 
At  the  manse  door  she  did  arrive — 
Rapp't,  was  admitted  by  the  maid ; 
Ben  to  the  kitchen  wi'  her  gade— 
Syne  for  the  Minister  inquir'd. 
Who  soon,  came  butt,  as  she  desir'd^ 
When  she  to  him  a  curtchie  made» 
Au'  he  to  her  thus  smiling  said^ 


Mm,  O  I  my  dear  Margret,  is  tnis  you  l 
I'm  glad  to  see  you ;  how  d'ye  do? 
How's  Tamos,  my  auld  worthy  firim'  P 
How's  Jock  your  son,  an'  daughter  3mA  ? 

Mar.  They're  gaily.  Sir,  we're  a'  meat  li«al" 
Tho'  Tamie's  e'en  but  craz'd  an'  firaH; 
But  here's  some  butter,  I  present  ye. 
Which  wi'  thir  hens  I  compliment  ye. 

Min.  Howt,  Margret !  this  speaks  t'  expense 
But  thanks  ye'se  get  for  recompence : 
Wi'  gratefu'  heart,  I  freely  tell 
YeVe  ever  kind  an'  like  yoursel. 

Mar.  Whisht,  Sir  !  wi'  thanks — nae  thanks  ava ; 
Ye're  worthy  mair — the  gift's  but  sma'; 
But  this  acknowledgment  from  us. 
Means  ye're  beloved  by  me  and  Tamos. 

Min.  Sic  favours,  sure,  I  ne'er  expected ; 
Yet  blyihe  am  I,  I'm  sae  respected ; 
Fling  aft'  your  cloak  and  follow  me  ; 
Come  ben,  an'  rest,  an'  crack  awee : 
'Tis  no  sae  aft  ye  come  to  see  us ; 
Ye'll  wait,  and  tak'  your  dinner  wi  u sa- 
lt's ready,  waiting  on  my  comin'; 
Com  ben,  then,  Margret,  honest  wonum. 

Mar.  Na,.na,  Sir  !  dinna  ipeak  o'  that, 
I'll  tak'  nae  dinner  weel  I  wat  ; 
Wi'  gentle  manners  (ye  will  grant  it) 
I've  ever  yet  been  unacquaintit, 

Min.  The  manners  that  ye  use  at  hame— 
Use  here,  an'  banish  fear  an'  shame. 
The  company's  but  few,  they're  wholly 
My  wife,  a  preacher,  Jess,  and  Polly : 
Ye'se  tak'  your  dinner  or  ye  gang, 
Joet  do  like  me,  ye'll  no  gae  wrang, 


8 

To  dine,  at  length  she  was  advised ; 

Grade  glowrin'  ben  like  ane  surprised ; 

Spread  wide  her  gown,  her  head  erecked^ 

Confus'd  and  awkwardly  she  becked  ; 

While  rev'rend  Mess  John,  kind  and  fair 

Conducted  her  unto  a  chair  ; 

An'  told  them  wi'  a  knacky  sentence. 

She  was  an  intimate  acquaintance. 

Blate  like,  aroun'  them  a*  she  gaz'd ; 

But  at  the  table  was  amazed, 

vShe  ne'er  before  saw  siken  fairlies, 

Sae  mony  antic  tirly-whirlies. 

How  to  behave,  while  she  was  eating, 

In  sic  a  nicy,  gentle  meeting, 

She  had  great  fears — her  heart  was  beating, 

Her  legs  did  shake — her  face  was  sweating. 

But  still  she  was  resolved  anon, 

To  do  in  a'  things  like  Mess  John^ 

'A  ready  sitting  face  to  face. 

His  rev'rence,  gravely,  said  the  grace; 

Then,  wi'  a  frank  an'  open  air. 

Bade  them  fa'  on,  an'  liberal  share. 

But  he  being  with  the  palsy  troubl'd. 

In  lifting  spoonfu's  often  dribbl'd, 

Sae  to  prevent  the  draps  o'  broth. 

He  prin'd  to's  breast  the  table  cloth. 

Now  Margret's  settled  resolution. 

Was  quickly  put  in  execution ; 

For,  as  was  said  already,  she  did. 

Resolve  to  do  whatever  he  did. 

She  therefore  also  like  the  priest, 

Prin'd  the  cloth  firmly  to  her  breast, 

(Wi'  a  prin  two  inches  long  at  least;) 

Which  smiles  frae  them  at  table  drew, 

As  far  s  gude  breeding  wad  allow. 


Sae  sooa  as,tUey  theikail  had  supp'd. 
To  glancin'  knives  ar '  forks  they  gripped 
Wi  them  to  weel  fill'd  plates  fell  keenly  ; 
A.te — took  a  drink — an'  crackit  frien'ly. 
But  Margret  only  was  a  hearer. 
She  was  sae  blate ;  nought  seem'd  to  cheer 
Sae  mony  things  appearing  new, 
iCam'  ilka  minute  in  her  view. 
And  fill'd  her  mind  sae  fu'  o'  dread. 
Cracking  was  clean  out  o'  her  head. 
In  course,  the  Pastor,  her  example, 
That  brought  her  there  to  feed  her  ample, 
She  notic'd  twa  or  three  times  take 
Out  o'  a'  dish  slaik  after  slaik 
O'  MUSTARD  ;  which  she  judg'd  to  be 
Gravie,  or  some  delicious  brie ; 
For  Margret  ne'er  did  peruse  it, 
Kenn'd  na'  Its  name,  nor  how  to  use  it ; 
But  now  determin'd  to  partake  o't. 
She  wi'  a  tea  spoon  took  a  slaik  o't. 
Heedless  she  supped  up  the  whole. 
Then  instantly  she  looked  droll. 
Dung  doited  in  a  moment's  space. 
She  hung  her  head  and  threw  her  face  ! 
Threw  down  her  knife  an'  fork  displeas'd. 
Syne  wi'  baith  hands  her  nose  she  seized. 
While  it  did  bite  an'  blin'  her  een ; 
The  like  o't  sure  was  never  seen ; 
For  startin'  up  as  fast  as  able ; 
The  haill  grear  tumbFc?  i^&e  teUf)!  > 
The  crash  o'  crock  ry  ware  resoundsj* 
Plates  truntjin'— ilka  ana  confoundtefl. 
Straight  to  the  door  she  frantic  fl«Wj? 
An'  after  her  Mess  John  dr^l 


20 

Which  drave  the  company  a'  thronther^ 
As  they  were  kippled  baith  thegither. 
But  in  a  crack,  the  prins  brak  loose. 
An'  Margret,  raviH*  left  the  house, 
Hameward,  in  haste,  she  hobbrd  sweating 
Tell'd  Tamos  the  disaster  greeting, 
Wrung  baith  her  ban's  an'  solemn  sware. 
To  dine  wi'  gentle  folk  nae  mair, 

SODA  WATER. 

Puir  Scotland's  scaith  is  whisky  rife, 

The  very  king  o'  curses ; 
Breeds  ilka  ill,  care,  trouble,  strife. 

Ruins  health  and  empties  purses. 
It  fills  a  peaceful  land  wi'  strife. 

The  ale-house  fills  wi'  roarin' ; 
It  fills  wi'  broils  domestic  life. 

An'  fills  the  kirk  wi'  snoarin'. 

*Twas  on  a  bonny  mom  in  May, 

Twa  three  chiels  did  forgather. 
The  night  before  they'd  gane  astray, 

And  were  a'  drunk  thegither ; 
Wi'  pain  their  pows  were  like  to  part, 

Tlieir  very  tongues  did  russej ; 
Wi'  shilpit  look  and  shiverin'  heart. 

And  throats  as  dry's  a  whissd. 

O  For  a  drink  of  something  cool. 
Says  ane,  for  I'm  maist  faintin'  i 

Then  let's  go  in,  another  says. 
For  my  puir  bead's  just  rentiB. 


21 

And  I've  the  very  best  receipt. 
The  stomach  fumes  to  scatter  | 

Then  loose  nae  time  and  let  ns  get 
A  waught  o'  Soda  Water. 

Water  will  never  do,  says  ane, 

Gie  me  some  cheese  that's  mlttie^ 
And  then  a  bumper  o'  good  gin, 

Or  sterling  aquavitae  : 
To  make  you  right  this  is  the  plan, 

'Twill  make  yon  fair  and  fatter ; 
But  says  the  chiel  that  first  began. 

There's  nought  like  Soda  Water, 

If  Soda  Water  be  sae  good, 

Gang  ye  and  drink  your  fiU ; 
But  I  wad  hae  it  understood. 

That  I'd  prefer  a  gill ; 
Water's  a  blessing,  nae  doubt,  fixt. 

And  may  it  ne'er  be  missing; 
But  when  wi'  whisky  it  is  mixt. 

It's  then  a  double  blessinff. 

On  fixed  air  tHe  hale  house  rang, 

And  pointed  observations. 
For  some  were  right  and  some  were  wrang. 

And  some  were  out  o'  patience. 
Ye  dinna  seem  to  be  in  haste. 

For  a'  your  chitter  chatter ; 
Come  bring  it  in,  and  let  us  tute 

This  self  same  Soda  Water. 

Unto  ilk  man  a  bottle's  plao'd. 
In  silent  expectation. 


is 

That  they  wad  better  be  in  haste 

AfW  60  much  oration ; 
It's  just  to  be,  or  not  to  be, 

To  take  an  unkenn'd  doze. 
Short  sighted  man  can  hardly  see 

An  inch  before  his  nose. 

m  ask  a  favour  frae  ilk  man. 

And  ye  will  surely  grant  it. 
To  drink  it  up  as  quick's  you  can, 

Nor  take  time  to  decant  it ; 
Like  bugle-horns  then  in  a  raw. 

They  glower  up  to  the  lift. 
And  it  was  hardly  down  when  twa 

O'  them  began  tp  rift. 

That's  curious  stuff,  it's  made  me  weel 

I  ne'er  drank  this  before, 
Wi'  that  the  Soda  Water  chiel 

Got  up  wi'  sic  a  roar ; 
I'm  gone,  I'm  poison'd,  fatal  drink  ! 

For  me  there  is  no  cure. 
When  o'er  his  cheeks,  black  streams  like 

Ran  gushing  to  the  floor. 

He  held  the  bottle  up  to  break^. 

Nae  langer  life  expeckin'. 
Syne  read  the  label  round  it's  neck. 

The  real  Japan  Blackin  ; 
He's  ill  before,  but  now  he's  worse, 

Wi'  got  and  ga'  he's  partin'. 
And  ^  twixt  ilk  boak  he  gaed  a  cmm 

Against  real  Day  ai^p  Marhv. 


tHE  WATER  DRINKER. 
A  bonnet-lalrd  in  the  vicinity  of  Glasgow^  wlio 
%s  given  to  indulge  too  freely  in  ardent  fpiritSf 
ome  at  last  to  the  resolution  of  eschewing  the  evil, 
y  becoming  a  member  of  the  Temperance  Society. 
Vith  thii  purpose  he  went  to  Glasgow,  andinquir- 
1  of  a  friend  where  he  should  enrol  his  name. 
I'm  just  resolved,'  he  said,  '  to  drap  the  whisky 
fthegither,  and  tak'  naething  stronger  than  water/ 
!Tie  friend,  who  was  a  wag,  informed  him  that  there 
rere  several  Temperance  Societies  in  town,  but  the 
Surf  one,  and  the  one  which  he  would  advise  him 
I  enter,  was  The  Glasgow  Water  Company.  Be- 
ig  directed  to  the  office  of  that  Company,  the  fol- 
|wing  dialogue  took  place: 
1/  I  wifh,  gentlemen,  to  become  a  member  of  your 
KMety.' 

,   Yon  with  to  take  a  share  in  our  company  ?* 
*  Deed  do  I,  sirs ;  for  I  think  there's  naething 
«ft  water  after  a*.' 

'  To  be  sure,  it  is  essential  to  life.  The  gentle- 
ifB  who  disposes  of  shares  will  be  here  presently 
I  yon  can  wait.* 

If  Qh^  I  can  wait  brawly.  And  is  there  mony 
|fp  in  Glasgow  friendly  to  your  Society !'  ^ 

'  Why,  we  have  to  fight  against  a  good  deal  of 
ipMiion,  as  you  may  have  heard.' 

'  Tbfti't  a  fiij.    It  wad  save  m>Rj  a  laif  ktld 


and  sair  heart  if  the  folk  o*  the  town  wara  a* 
your  mind.* 

*  Yei,  but  that  is  scarcely  to  bo  looked  for/ 
Na,  na — sae  lang  as  puir  human  nature  is  wha 

rt  is.    But  tell  me,  gentlemen,  in  real  earn 
does  none  0*  ye  erer  taste  whisky !' 

(A  laugh)  '  Why,  there's  no  denying  We  tA\ 
take  a  glass  like  our  neighbours  at  times,' 

*  Ay,  I  jaloused  as  much  from  your  looks,  A 
were  ye  just  desperately  gi'en  to  the  dram  befori? 
jou  cam^  here?' 

*  What  do  you  mean,  yoti  dd  quiz? — Therd* 
comes  the  gentleman  with  whom  you  have  to  deal^ 

Weel,  sir,  I  was  wanting  to  enrol  inyself  in 
your  company.'  -01 
'  You  wish  a  share,  sir  ?  The  price  per  share  is 
£85  at  present/  im^^i 

*  Eighty-five  pounds  for  entering  a  wafer  WcSeCj^ 
D'ye  tak  me  for  an  idiot  ? 

'  It  is  not  a  farthing  lower,  and  hag  not  beii*| 
this  twelve  month,'  ■ 

/  Gae  wa'— gae  wa'  sir !  Eighty-five  ponnds  foi , 
diinkitig  water !  If  that's  the  casa,  PH  atiek  IBf 
the  gpearit  trade  yet/ 


