does Kate?

How sells black cattle?-What gies woo this year?"

And sic like kindly questions wad he speer.

well sung.

bring bedeen

The nappy bottle ben, and glasses clean, Whilk in our breast rais'd sic a blithe

some flame,

As gart me mony a time gae dancing hame.

My heart's e'en rais'd! Dear neibour,

will ye stay,

Since ye're my nearest friend that I like

best:

Bring wi' ye a' your family; and then, Whene'er you please, I'll rant wi' you again.

Glaud. Spoke like yersell, auld birky; never fear,

But at your banquet I shall first appear:

sight,

I'll whistle Pate and Roger frae the height: I'll yoke my sled, and send to the neist town,

And bring a draught of ale baith stout and brown;

And gar our cottars a', man, wife, and wean, Drink till they tine the gait to stand their lane.

Sym. I wad na baulk my friend his blithe design,.

Gif that it hadna first of a' been mine : For here yestreen I brew'd a bow of maut, Yestreen I slew twa wathers prime and

fat;

A firlot of good cakes my Elspa beuk, And a large ham hings reesting in the neuk :

I saw mysell, or I came o'er the loan, Our meikle pot that scads the whey, put

on,

Auld, said I! troth, I'm younger be a score, With your good news, than what I was

before.

I'll dance or e'en !-Hey Madge! come

forth d'ye hear? [Enter Madge. Mad. The man's gane gyte! Dear Symon, welcome here.

What wad ye, Glaud, with a' this haste and din?

Ye never let a body sit to spin.

Glaud. Spin! snuff!-Gae break your

wheel and burn your tow,

And set the meiklest peat-stack in a low; Syne dance about the bane-fire till ye die, Since now again we'll soon Sir William see.

Mad. Blithe news indeed! and wha was't tald you o't?

Glaud. What's that to you? gae get my Sunday's coat;

roast;

And on the haggis Elspa spares nae cost; Sma' are they shorn, and she can mix fu' nice

The gusty ingans with a curn of spice:

hands;

Then frae their washing cry the bairns in haste,

And mak yoursells as trig, head, feet, and waist,

When last the burn bore down my mither's yarn;

When Brawny, elf-shot, never mair came hame ;

came;

ten.

Mause. E'en twining out a thread with little din,

And beeking my cauld limbs afore the sun. What brings my bairn this gate sae air at morn?

Is there nae muck to lead?-to thresh nae corn?

Baul. Enough of baith; but something that requires

Your helping hand, employs now all my

cares.

Mause. My helping hand, alake! what can I do,

That underneath baith eild and poortith

bow?

Baul. Ay, but ye're wise, and wiser far

than we,

Or maist part of the parish tells a lie.

Mause. Of what kind wisdom think ye

I'm possest,

That lifts my character aboon the rest?

Baul. The word that gangs, how ye're sae wise and fell,

Ye'll may be take it ill gif I should tell.

wean

To a fairy turn'd, and cou'dna stand its lane;

When Wattie wander'dae night thro' the shaw,

And tint himsell amaist amang the snaw; When Mungo's mare stood still, and swat with fright,

When he brought east the howdy under night;

When Bawsy shot to dead upon the green, And Sara tint a snood was nae mair seen; You, lucky, gat the wyte of a' fell out, And ilk ane here dreads you a' round about;

And sae they may that mint to do ye skaith;

For me to wrang ye, I'll be very laith ; But when I meist mak groats, I'll strive to please

You with a firlot of them, mixt with pease.

Mause. I thank ye, lad ;-now tell me

your demand,

And, if I can, I'll lend my helping hand.

Baul. Then, I like Peggy ;-Neps is

fond of me;—

Peggy likes Pate;-and Patie's bauld and slee,

And loes sweet Meg;-but Neps I downa

see.

Cou'd ye turn Patie's love to Neps, and then

Peggy's to me,-I'd be the happiest man.

Mause. I'll try my art to gar the bowls

row right;

Sae gang your ways, and come again at night;

'Gainst that time I'll some simple things

prepare,

Worth all your pease and groats; tak ye

nae care.

Baul. Well, Mause, I'll come, gif I the road can find;

But if ye raise the deil, he'll raise the wind; Syne rain and thunder, may be, when 'tis late,

Will make the night sae mirk, I'll tine the gate.

We're a to rant in Symie's at a feast,

O! will ye come like badrans, for a jest ; And there ye can our different 'haviours spy; There's nane shall ken o't there but you and I?

Mause. 'Tis like I may,-but let na on what's past

'Tween you and me, else fear a kittle cast.

Baul. If I aught of your secrets e'er advance,

May ye ride on me ilka night to France. [Exit Bauldy.

Mause her lane. Hard luck, alake! when poverty and eild, Weeds out of fashion, and a lanely bield, With a sma' cast of wiles, should in a twitch,

Because by education I was taught

To speak and act aboon their common thought.

Their gross mistake shall quickly now appear;

Soon shall they ken what brought, what keeps me here;

Nane kens but me,-and if the morn were come,

I'll tell them tales will gar them a' sing dumb.

[Exit.

CHRIST'S KIRK ON THE
GREEN.

Ramsay added the following note to Canto II. of "Christ's Kirk on the Green"-his first canto :-

"The king having painted the rustic squabble with an uncommon spirit in a most ludicrous manner, in a stanza of verse the most difficult to keep the sense complete, as he has done without being forced to bring in the words for crambo's sake where they return so frequently. Ambitious to imitate so great an original, I put a stop to the war, called a congress, and made them sign a peace, that the world might have their picture in the more agreeable hours of drinking, dancing, and singing."

The day's revelry ends with a marriage bedding-ceremony; and if there were any other, nothing is told of it, except that in a note he says the scene is placed at the church of Leslie in Fife. Of Canto III., the opening stanza of which is equal to anything he has written, he says:

Curious to know how my bridal folks would look next day after the marriage, I attempted the third Canto, which opens with a

witch."

This fool imagines, as do mony sic,
That I'm a wretch in compact with Auld

Nick;

come to present their gifts to the new married couple. A new scene of drinking is represented, and the young man is creeled: then the character of the smith's ill-natured shrew is drawn, which leads in the description

of riding the stang; next Maggie Murdy has an exemplary character of a good wise wife; deep drinking and bloodless quarrels make an end of an old tale.'

The canto is given entire, except the last two stanzas, and, as an imitation of the ancient, is of course unaltered.

CANTO III.

I

Now frae th' east nook o' Fife the dawn
Speel'd westlines up the lift,
Carles wha heard the cock had craw'n,
Begoud to rax2 an' rift:

An' greedy wives wi' girning thrawn,
Cry'd, lasses up to thrift;
Dogs barked, an' the lads frae hand
Bang'd to their breeks like drift,
Be break o' day.

But some wha had been fou 3 yestreen,

Sic as the letter-gae,4

Air up,5 had nae will to be seen,

Grudgin their groat' to pay.

But what aft fristed's no forgien,7
Whan fouk has nought to say;

Yet sweer were they to rake their een,8
Sic dizzy heads had they,

An' het that day.
Be that time it was fair foor days,9
As fou's the house cou'd pang,
To see the young fouk' ere they raise,
Gossips came in ding dang,

An' wi' a soss aboon the claiths,

Ilk ane their gifts down flang: 10 Twall toop-horn-spoons" down Maggy

Steen, fresh an' fastin 'mang the rest,

Cam in to get his morning, Speer'd gin the bride had taen the test,

And how she lo'ed her corning; She leugh as she had fan a nest, Said, Let a-bee ye'r scorning. Quoth Roger, Fegs, I've doon my best, To gi'er a charge o' horning, As weel's I may.

Kind Kirsh was there, a kanty9 lass,

Black ey'd, black hair'd, an' bonny; Right weel red up an' jimp 10 she was, An' wooers had fu' mony:

I wat na how it cam to pass,
She cudled in wi' Jonnie,
An' tumbling wi' him on the grass,
Dang a' her cockernony "