This while she's been in crankous1 mood, Play'd her that pliskie !)2 An' now she's like to rin red-wud3 About her Whisky. An' Lord, if ance they pit her till't,1 She'll tak the streets, An' rin her whittle to the hilt, I' th' first she meets! For God sake, Sirs! then speak her fair, An' to the muckle house repair, Wi' instant speed, An' strive, wi' a' your wit and lear," To get remead. Yon ill-tongu'd tinkler, Charlie Fox, L'en cowe the cadie !8 An' send him to his dicing-box, Tell An' sportin lady. yon guid bluid o' auld Boconnock's I'll be his debt twa mashlum bonnocks," An' drink his health in auld Nanse Tinnock's10 Nine times a-week, If he some scheme, like tea an' winnocks,"1 Wad kindly seek. Could he some commutation broach, Nor erudition, Yon mixtie-maxtie12 queer hotch-potch, Auld Scotland has a raucle13 tongue; 7 Hot. 10 A worthy old hostess of the Author's in Mauchline, where he sometimes studies politics over a glass of guid auld Scotch Drink.-R. B. i Windows. 12 Confusedly mixed. 13 Fearless. An' if she promise auld or young To tak their part, Tho' by the neck she should be strung, She'll no desert. An' now, ye chosen Five-and-Forty, Mither's heart support ye; Then, though a Minister grow dorty,1 An' kick your place, Ye'll snap your fingers, poor an' hearty, Before his face. LET half-starv'd slaves, in warmer skies But blyth an' frisky, She eyes her freeborn, martial boys, Tak aff their Whisky. What tho' their Phœbus kinder warms, Or, hounded forth, dishonour arms In hungry droves. Their gun's a burden on their shouther; Till skelp-a shot-they're aff, a' throwther, But bring a Scotsman frae his hill, An' there's the foe, 2 Clothes. 3 Daws. 1 Saucy. Pell-mell. Hesitation. Nae cauld, faint-hearted doubtings tease him: An' when he fa's, His latest draught o' breathin lea'es him Sages their solemn een may steek,1 In clime an' season; But tell me Whisky's name in Greek, Scotland, my auld, respected Mither! Ye tine3 your dam; Freedom and Whisky gang thegither! Tak aff your dram! THE HOLY FAIR.4 A robe of seeming truth and trust And secret hung, with poison'd crust, The dirk of Defamation: A mask that like the gorget show'd, Dye-varying on the pigeon; And for a mantle large and broad, He wrapt him in Religion.-Hypocrisy à-la-mode. UPON a simmer Sunday morn, When Nature's face is fair, I walked forth to view the corn, An' snuff the caller air. The risin sun, owre Galston muirs, The hares were hirplin7 down the furs, 1 Shut. 2 Smoke. 3 Lose. Holy Fair is a common phrase in the West of Scotland for a sacramenta occasion.-R. B. Fergusson, in his "Hallow Fair" of Edinburgh, I believe, furnished a hint and title of the plan of the "Holy Fair." The farcical scene the poet there describes was often a favourite field of his observation, and the most of the incidents he mentions had actually passed before his eyes.-G. B. 5 Fresh. 6 The adjoining parish to Mauchline. 7 Creeping. 8 Larks. As lightsomely I glowr'd abroad, Three Hizzies, early at the road, Twa had manteeles o' dolefu' black, The third, that gaed a wee a-back, Was in the fashion shinin, Fu' gay that day. The twa appear'd like sisters twin, The third cam up, hap-step-an'-lowp, An' wi' a curchie low did stoop, As soon as e'er she saw me, Fu' kind that day. Wi' bonnet aff, quoth I, "Sweet lass, I think ye seem to ken me; "Ye, for my sake, hae gi'en the feck 66 A screed some day. My name is Fun-your cronie dear, The nearest friend ye hae; An' this is Superstition here, An' that's Hypocrisy. I'm gaun to Mauchline Holy Fair, Gin ye'll go there, yon runkl'd' pair, We will get famous laughin At them this day." Quoth I, "With a' my heart, I'll do't; Then I gaed hame at crowdie-time,1 For roads were clad, frae side to side, In droves that day. Here farmers gash,2 in ridin graith There, swankies young, in braw braid-claith, In silks an' scarlets glitter; Wi' sweet-milk cheese, in monie a whang," 6 Fu' crump that day. When by the plate we set our nose, On ev'ry side they're gath'rin, Some carryin dales, some chairs an' stools, Right loud that day. Here stands a shed to fend the show'rs, Here sits a raw o' tittlin jades," Wi' heaving breast an' bare neck, Here, some are thinkin on their sins, On this hand sits a chosen swatch,12 1 Breakfast-time. To chairs that day. 2 Wise. 3 The motion of a countryman riding on a cart-horse. fellows. 5 String. 6 Cakes of bread. • Strapping young 12 Sample. |