31 10 639 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/ef67430a4821f90545c81b8e8a271551.pdf 1949a852dbb44919eb4407177ecaa2ac PDF Text Text SIX P o p u l a r Seiig^ Coming through the rye. Say, my heart, why wildly beatingWhen I was an infant. Jockie to the fair. Katty O'Lynch. There was a jolly miller. KILMARNOCK: PRINTED m FOR T H E BOOKSELLERS* �POPULAR SONGS. C0MEN' T H R O U G H T H E RYE. I F a body meet a body comin' through the rye, if a body kiss a body, need a body cry ? Ev'ry Jassie has her laddie, Nane, they say hae I! Yet a' the lads they smile on me W h e n comin' thro" the rye. Amang the train there is a swain I 4§;vrly loe myself But whare his hame, what his name ? I dinna care to telL If a body meet a body com in* frae the town. If a body greet a body, need a body frown ? Ev'ry iassie has her laddie, Nane they say hae I ! Yet a* the lads they smile on m e W h e n comin' thro 1 the rye. Amang the train, &c. SAY, M Y H E A R T , W H Y BEATING. SAT, my heart, why wildly beating, Dost thou auch emotion prove? W I L D L Y �3 Canst thou* when thy lover meeting, Fear his truth, or doubt his love ? N o , fondly no, my bosom sighs ! No, gently no, my heart replies. T h e n , fond heart, be silent ever, Be thy wild emotion o'er ; For with doubt and fearing never Shalt thou throb—no, no, no, never more, No, no, no, never never more. Light of life, and life's best blessing Is the love that meets return * , Shall J, that rich boon possessing, E'er the matchless blessing spurn ? No, fondly no, my bosom sighs ! No, gently no, my heart replies, T h e n be joy my inmate ever, ^ Since each anxious dread is o'er, For with fear and doubting never Shall it throb—no, no, no, neve* more, No, no, no, never never more. W H E N I W A S AN I N F A N T . I was an infant, mammy would say, Fd when older> Be a soldier! Rattles and toys, I threw them away, Unieis a gun or a sabre. W h e n a younker, up I grew* Saw one day a grand review* WHEN �4 Colours flying, Set me dying, T o embark in life so new. Roll drums merrily, march away, Soldiers 1 glory Lives in story, His laurels are green when his locks are grey ! T h e n hey for the life of a soldier. Listed—to battle I march'd along, Courting danger, Fear a stranger; The cannon beat time to the trumpet's song, And made my heart a hero's. < Charge l* the gallant leaders cry v On like iions then we fly, Blood and thunder, Foes knock under, Then huzza for a victory. Roll drums merrily, &c. W h o so merry as we in camp ? Battle over, Live in clover, Care and his cronies are forc'd to tramp ; And all is social pleasure. Then we laugh, we quafF, we sing, Time goes gaily on the wing. Smiles of beauty, Sweeten duty, And each private is a king! Roil drums merrily, &c» NIL �5 JOCKIE TO T H E FAIR. on the morn of sweet May-day, W h e n Nature painted all things gay, Taught birds to sing, and lambs to play* And gild the meadows fair ! Young Jockie with the early dawn, His Sunday's coat the youth put on, For Jenny had vow'd away to run With Jockie to the f a i r ; For Jenny had vow'd, &c. 'TWAS T h e cheerful parish-bells had r u n g ; W i t h eager steps he trudg'd along; While fiow'ry garlands round him hung, W h i c h shepherds us'd to wear : H e tapp'd the window, Haste, my dear: Jenny, impatient, cried, W h o ' s there I ' T i s I, my love? and no one near, Step gently down, you've nought to fear, W i t h Jockie to the fair; Step gently down, &c. My dad and man are fast asleep, My brother's up and with the sheep, And will you still your promise keep, Which I have heard you swear i And will you ever constant prove ? I will, by all the powers above; And ne'er deceive my charming dove; Dispel these doubts, and haste, my love, W i t h Jockie to the fair. Dispel these doubts, &c. �6 Behold the ring, the shepherd cried* Will Jenny be my charming bride, Let Cupid be our happy guide, And Hymen meet us there. T h e n Jockie did his vows renew, H e would be constant, would be true ; His word was pledg'd, away she flew, O'er cowslips tipt with balmy dew, W i t h Jockie to the fair; O'er cowslips, &c> In raptures meet the joyful throng, Their gay companions blythe and young, Each joins the dance, each joins the song, To hail the happy pair; In turns there's none so fond as they, T h e y bless the kind propitious day, T h e smiling morn of blooming May, W h e n lovely Jenny ran away With Jockie to the f a i r ; W h e n lovely Jenny, &c. KATTY G'LYNCH. Katty O'Lynch lived at Ballinahinch, And her sweetheart was called Mister Casey ; H o w sweetly she'd cry, as he'd constantly sigh, O h ! Paddy now can't you be easy ! And don't be coming over me with your T u ral lal la, tu rai, Bee. SWEET �7 Oh ! Paddy now can't you be easy, One morning, 'twas own'd, in her chamber he found A man that was not Mister Casey; Arrali! who's this, says he ? 'tis my brother, says she: O h ! Katty, now can't you be easy, And don't be coming over me with your Fu rai lal, &c. The next time they met, she cried out in a pet, Arrah ! Paddy you've drove me quite crazy j Since you are the boy, won't you marry me, joy* Marry you, marry you, Arrah ! Katty now can't you be easy* And don't be coming over me with your T u ra! lal, &c. T H E R E W A S A JOLLY MILLER. was a jolly miller Ance liv'd on the river D e e ; H e work'd and sung from morn till night, No lark more blythe than h e : And thus the burthen of his song For ever us'd to be, I care for nobody* no, not I, If no one cares for me* THERE �8 I live by my mill, how happy I, She's kindred, child, and wife ; I would not change my station For any other in life. No lawyer, surgeon, or doctor. E'er had a grost from m e ; I care for nobody» no, not I, If nobody cares for me. W h e n spring begins its merry career, Oh how his heart grows gay; N o summer drouth alarms his fears. Nor winter's sad decay. No foresight mars the miller's joy, Who's wont to sing and say, Let others toil from year to year, I live from day to day. Thus, like the miller bold and free, Let us rejoice and sing, T h e days of youth are made for glee, And time is on the wing This song shall pass from me to thee. Along this jovial ring; Let heart and voice and all agree, To say long live the king. FINIS. � https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/e464717c781f7223d2686ce029b9cb7e.jpg 7c72d5e99dbd9c9e2a6251a0abfc90fb Omeka Image File The metadata element set that was included in the `files_images` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all image files. Bit Depth 8 Channels 3 Height 3155 Width 1848 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Illustration of a man and a woman in an outside scene; the man is facing the woman and the woman is facing the viewer. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Woodcut 088:Title-page illustration of a man and a woman. The man is facing the woman and the woman is facing the viewer. Outdoor scene. Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Six Popular Songs. Coming through the rye. Say, my heart, why wildly beating. When I was an infant. Jockie to the fair. Katty O'Lynch. There was a jolly miller. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9953133903505154">s0499b33</a> Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. Coming through the rye. Say, my heart, why wildly beating. When I was an infant. Jockie to the fair. Katty O'Lynch. There was a jolly miller. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Burns, Robert, 1759-1796 Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource [1820?] per G. Ross Roy Collection, University of South Carolina Libraries Extent The size or duration of the resource. 8 pages Description An account of the resource Woodcut #88:&nbsp;<span>Illustration of a man and a woman in an outside scene; the man is facing the woman and the woman is facing the viewer. </span> Subject The topic of the resource Chapbooks--Scotland--Kilmarnock Courtship and Marriage Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Is Referenced By A related resource that references, cites, or otherwise points to the described resource. <a title="G. Ross Roy Collection, University of South Carolina Libraries" href="http://library.sc.edu/spcoll/britlit/roycol.html">G. Ross Roy Collection, University of South Carolina Libraries&nbsp;</a> Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. Chapbook #20 in a bound collection of 40 chapbooks Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource ballads & songs Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Kilmarnock: Printed for the Booksellers Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario # of Woodcuts: 1 Architecture: fence Bib Context: title-page Chapbook Date: 1811-1820 Chapbook Genre: ballads & songs Chapbook Publisher - Edinburgh: Printed for the Booksellers Gender: man/men Gender: woman/women Nature: tree(s) Outdoor Scene https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/83d08deb6d2d162b3dbe5405558b434a.jpg 70fd73400ca40d59370edbe430943551 Omeka Image File The metadata element set that was included in the `files_images` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all image files. Bit Depth 8 Channels 3 Height 3252 Width 1772 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Woodcut on title-page portraying a girl holding a flower standing between two pillars with flowers in vases on top. Large house in the background https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/a9919d36342f115a750230ac77ec4d12.pdf 4e5edb62e81ee9afe21346e85815a4ae Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Woodcut 005: Title-page illustration in a single-ruled rectangular border of a girl holding a flower standing between two pillars in an outdoor scene. Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Six Songs. Braes of Galloway. Mine ain Dear Somebody. Oh! Send me Lewis Gordon hame. Bonny Winsome Mary. Why Unite to Banish Care. Wat Ye Wha's in Yon Town. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9953134473505154">s0100b01</a> Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. Braes of Galloway. Mine ain Dear Somebody. Oh! Send me Lewis Gordon hame. Bonny Winsome Mary. Why Unite to Banish Care. Wat Ye Wha's in Yon Town. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1820-1837 per National Library of Scotland Extent The size or duration of the resource. 8 pages Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. Chapbook #71 in a bound collection of 77 chapbooks Description An account of the resource No. 6. printed at the top of the title-page. Woodcut #05: Illustration on title-page of a girl holding a flower standing between two pillars in an outdoor scene. Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Galloway, Scotland Is Referenced By A related resource that references, cites, or otherwise points to the described resource. National Library of Scotland <a title="National Library of Scotland" href="http://www.nls.uk/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">http://www.nls.uk/</a> Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For higher quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Subject The topic of the resource Chapbooks -- Scotland -- Newton Stewart Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Newton-Stewart: J. McNairn Type The nature or genre of the resource ballads & songs # of Woodcuts: 1 Architecture: gate Architecture: house Bib Context: title-page Chapbook Date: 1821-1830 Chapbook Genre: ballads & songs Chapbook Publisher - Newton-Stewart: J. McNairn Fashion (Clothing): bloomers Fashion (Clothing): children's clothes Fashion (Clothing): dress Fashion (Clothing): stockings Fashion (Clothing): upper class Gender: girl(s) Outdoor Scene https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/5273a9bec8c8fe67d0759253022da277.pdf a97e512e67121f95a34b6ffd02d6e037 PDF Text Text Soldier's Dream; T o winch are udik-J, Hap me with thy Petticoat, A t the Dead of the Night, Bonny Mally Stewart, Lochaber no More, Down the Burn Davie. STIRLING: Printed and Sold, Wholesale and Jie!ui!, by 4 W . MACXIE, BooltteHtr. �SOLDIER'S # Gur And And The DREAM. bugles had sung, the nigljt-cload had lowered, the centinel star set the watch in the s k y , thousands had sunk on the ground overpower'd, weary to sleep, and the wounded to die. W h e n reposing that night on my pallet of s t r a w , 13y the wolf-scaring (aggot that guarded the slain, A t the dead of the night, a sweet vision I 9aw, A n d t w i c e ' e r e the c o c k crew I dreamt it again. M e t h c u g h t from the battle-field's dreadful a r r a y , F a r , far I had rgam'd on a desolate t r a c k , T i l l nature and sunshine disclosed the sweet w a y , T o the house of my father, that w e l c o m e me back. 1 flew to the pleasant fields, tfavell'd so oft, I n life's morning march, when my bosom was y o u n g , 1 beared my own mountain-goats bleating aloft, A n d well know the strain that the corn-reapers sung. T h e n pledg'd we the tvlne cup, and fondly we swore, F r o m my home and my weeping friends never to part, M y little ones kiss'd me a thousand times o'er, A n d m y wife sobbM aloud.in the fulness of fccart. �HAP ME WITII THY PETTICOAT. 0 B e l l thy looks have k i l M my heart, I pass the day in pain ; W h e n night returns I (eel the smart, A n d wish for thee in vain. P m starving cold whilst thou art warm, H a v e pity and incline, A n d g r a n t me for a hap that charming petticoat of thine. M y ravished fancy in amaz.e, Still wanders o er thy charms D e l u s i v e dreams ten thousand way», P r e s e n t thee to my arm*. T h e n w a k i n g think what I endure, W h i l e creel you decline, T b o a e pleasures, which can only cure, T h i s pau-ting heart of mine. 1 faint, I fail, I wildly r o v e , Because you still deny, T h e just reward that's due to love. A n d let true passion die. O h Lturn, and let compassion seize, T h a t lovely breast of thine : T h y petticoat wad g i v e nte ease, I f thou and it were mine. Sure H e a v e n has fitted for delight, T h a t beauteous .farm of thjne f �4 A n d thou'rt too good its laws to slight, B y hinu'ring the design. M a y all the powers of love agree* A t length to m a f c thee thine ; O r loose my chains, arid set me f r e e , From e v e r y charm of thine, AT THE DEAD OF THE NIGHT. A t the dead of the night, when by w h i s k y inspir'd, A n d pretty K a t t y F l a n n i n g a n m y bns<.» J»*d fir'd, I rappM at her window when thus she b e g a n , O h , what the de?il aTe you a t ? begone you naughty man. I g a v e ber a look, as sly as a thief, O r when hungry I ' d view a fine sirloin of b e e f j M y heart is red hot, ( s a y s I ) but cold is my skin, So pretty M r s F l a n n i g a n , oh, wont y o u let me in. S^e open'd the door, I sat down by the fire, A n d soon was relieved from the w e t , cold, and mire, A n d I pleaa'd her so w e l l , that long e ' e r 'twas d a y , I stole poor K a t t y ' s tender heart, and so tripp'd a w a y . BONNY MALLY STEWART. T h e cold winter is past and gone, A n d now comes on the spring, A n d I am one of the king's life-guard*, A n d I must gG fiaht for my king, my dear, And must go fight for my k i n g . �N o w sin<ie to the wars yon fans* go,. O n e thing I pray g r a n t me, I t ' s I will dress myself in man'a attire, A n d 1 1 1 travel altmg with thee, m y d e t r , A n d I ' l l travel 1 aleng with tfree. I would not for ten thousand worlds, T h a t my love endangered were T h e rattling of drums and shining of swords, W i l l c a u s e g r e a t sorrow and Wo, my dear, W i l l cause great sorrow and wo. I will do the thing for my true love, T h a t she will not do for me j I t ' s I'll put cuffs of black on my red coat, A n d mourn till the day I die, my dear, A n d mourn till the day I die. I will do more for my true love, T h a t he will do for m e ; I ' l l cut my hair and roll me bare, A n d mourn till the day I die, A n d mourn till the day I die. S o farewell thy mother and father dear, I ' l l bid adieu and farewell, M y sweet and bonny M a l l y S t e w a r t , Y o u ' r e the cause of all my wo, my dear, Y o u ' r e the cause of all my wo. W h e n we c a m e to bonny S t i r l i n g town, A s we lay ail in camp, �6 B y the K i n g ' s orders w e were all taken, A n d to G e r m a n y we were all sent, my dear, A n d to G e r m a n y we were all sent. 80 farewell bonny Stirling town, A n d tbe maids therein also ; A n d farewell bonny M a l l y S t e w a r t , Y o u ' r e the cause of all my wo, my dear, Y o u ' r e the cause of all my wo. She took the slippers off her feet, A n d the cockups off her hair ; Au.d she has ta'en a long j o u r n e y , F o r seven lang years and mair, my dear, F o r seven lang years and mair. Sometimes she rade sometimes she gaed, Sometimes sat down to mourn, A n d it was aye the o'ercome of her t a l e , Shall I e'er see my bonny laddie come, Shall I e'er see my bonny laddie come. T h e trooper turned himself round about, A l l on the Irish shore ; H e has gi'en the bridal reins a shake. S a y i n g adieu for evermore, my dear, S a y i n g adieu for evermore. LOCHABER NO MORE. T h e s e lines from y o u r lover, dear Jenny receive, A t Carlisle confined, will make you to g r i e v e , I prisoner was taken on Culloden plain. 1 wish in the battle I there had been slain. �7 B u t fate has decreed that it must not be so, I was wounded and taken, and with them must go, B u t my fate, dear J e n n y , it troubles me sore, F o r thee and L o c h a b e r 1 ne'er will 6ee more I 0 often was I told by the chiefs of the clan, T h a t C h a r l i e he was a brave valiant man, B u t none of his bravery I e v e r y e t did see, T h e y only deceiv'd, and have ruin'd me. Deluded by flattery, I soon did comply, 1 with them did fight, and with them must die j O my fate, my dear J e n n y , it troubles me sore, F o r thee and L o c h a b e r I ' l l never see more. D e f e a t i n g of Johnny Coup at Prestonpans, Enlivened our hearts, and encourag'd our Clans B e i n g flush'd with success, we to E n g l a n d did steer, B u t v t l i a A t D u k e W i l l i a m put us all in great fear. H e fought us, he beat us, he ruin'd us quite, A n d now we are all in a sorrowful p l i g h t I M a y H e a v e n its blessing upon thee, lo-ve poor, F o r thee nor L o c h a b e r I ne'er shall see more. DOWN THE BURN DAVIE. W h e n trees did bud and fiblds were green, A n d broom bloom'd £air to see : W h e n M a r y was complete fifteen, A n d lave laughed in her ee. B l y t b e D a v i e ' s blinks her heart did move. T o speak h e r roind thus free, �8 G a n g down the b u m D a v i e , love, A n d I shall fallow thee. N o w D a v i e did each lad surpass, T h a t dwt-U ooAhis b u m - s i d e , A n d M a r y was the bonniest lass, J u s t fit to be a bride. H e r cheeks were rosy, red and white, H e r een w e i e bonny blue j H e r looks were l i k e A u r o r a bright, H e r lips like dropping dew. A 3 down the burn they took their w a y , W h e n tender tales they said! H i s cheek to hers he ^ft did l a y , A n d with her bosom played. T i l l baith at last impatient grown, T o be raair fully blest, In yonder vale they Iean'd them-down, She only saw the j e s t . W h a t pass'd, I guess was harmless play, A n d naething sure uumeet, F o r ganging hame I heard them say, T h e y lik'd a w a i t sae sweet. A n d that they aften should return, Such pleasure to re lew, S a y s M a r y , love 1 like the burn, A n d ay shall follow you. FINIS. � https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/f6a1d7b8d205aef1cf1e3db22d6f85ae.jpg d1c13eb1839a000916090409126b1ddd Omeka Image File The metadata element set that was included in the `files_images` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all image files. Bit Depth 8 Channels 3 Height 3072 Width 1772 Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Soldier's dream; to which are added, Hap me with thy petticoat, At the dead of the night, Bonny Mally Stewart, Lochaber no more, Down the burn Davie Subject The topic of the resource Chapbooks - Scotland - Stirling Jacobites Ballads and songs Courtship and Marriage War Jacobites Germany Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1820-1830 per University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival &amp; Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9923418483505154">s0130b29</a> Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Stirling, Scotland Lochaber, Scotland Carlisle, Scotland Culloden, Scotland Prestonpans, Scotland Germany Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. Hap me with thy petticoat. At the dead of the night. Bonny Mally Stewart. Lochaber no more. Down the burn Davie. Extent The size or duration of the resource. 8 pages 15 cm Abstract A summary of the resource. A collection of ballads and songs about: a soldier dreaming of home after a battle; a young man who praises the beauty of his lover before suggestively asking for her petticoat as a covering; a short, humorous song about a late night visit inspired by whiskey; a soldier leaving for service in Germany whose lover asks permission to accompany him dressed as a man; a letter from a prisoner to his lover describing the defeat at Culloden and the Jacobite uprising; and two young lovers who dally by the burn-side. Is Referenced By A related resource that references, cites, or otherwise points to the described resource. University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks <a href="http://www.lib.uoguelph.ca/find/find-type-resource/archival-special-collections/scottish-studies">http://special.lib.gla.ac.uk/chapbooks/search/</a> Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Stirling: Printed and sold, wholesale and retail by W. Macnie, Booksellers Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/9b266f404e37be895eadc4a07e1c06a5.pdf 167681215ecc04763c34b0e2d48b7f63 PDF Text Text SONGS OF THE TIMES, OR T H E Voice of the People. L E T US H A I L OUR P A T R I O T KING Tune—For ay that an* a* that« COMB, let us hail our Patriot King, His Council true an* a* that; And roun* him let us all as one, Rejoicing sing for a* that. For a' that and a' that, Queen Adelaide and a* that ; H e nobiy fought the people's cause, Our Sailor King an' a* that. Long has our Country borne the yoke, O' Borough laws and a' that; While pamper'd nobs, wi' friens and jobs* Hae made us poor and a* that. For a' that and a* that, We're grumbling now at a' that; But times hae chang'd, since tyrants xih Could mak vis slaves an' a' that. �^//Jf 2 We've seen the Bill, which Royal Will Approv'd, and back'd an' a' that; But P e e l & Co. cried out, 4i Oh, no! " We'll kick it out," an* a' that. For a' that an, a' that. Y e ken their fate an' a* that: Reform ! Reform ! rais'd sic a storm, As blew them up an* a' that. Some's lighted here, some's lighted there, Some's ne'er been seen, an' a' that ; But they'll be fewer Ciascoigne-men, When next they meet, wi' a' that., For a ' that a n ' a ' that, The people's will and a' that, Must have its sway, we'll gain the day, For Britain's right, and a' that. A light has dawn'd on mony a land Where slav'ry reigned, an' a' that, But soon we'll see the brave, the free, Shake off their chains an' a' that. For a' that an r a' that, It's coming fast wi' a' that, When thrones maun rest on freedom's soil, < )r be swept aif frae a' that. Awa, confusion's sons, awa' W ild anarchy, and a' that; Our watch-word is, 4 < Our Isoble King, " Our Country's laws," an' a' that. For a' that an' a' that, We'll brave the world for a' that; A valiant heart will lead us on, To do or die for a' that. Then let us sing, " God save our King," W ith three times three an' a' that; An' may each traitor villain swing Abune our heads, for a' that. For a' that an' a' that, Our Country's good an' a' that, Is all we wish, is all we want. An' this we'll get lor a'y that. �WE'VE HEARP THE ' NEWS FRAE l o n ' o n j g w n . A t R — U p m* uaur them a\ Willie. Up and waur them a' Willie, Up and waur them a', Ye gied the House an unco purge, Sic as it never saw, Willie. We've heard the news frae Lon'on town, About Reform an' a', Willie, An' faith ye nobly wear the crown, Nor care for jibes a straw, Willie. Up and waur them a' Willie, Up and waur them a'; Y e hae the people on your side, Ye've justice and the law Willie. Let Vyvian growl, and Wetherell roar. It is not worth a straw, Willie; St. Stephen's rotten at the core, With all their vaunted jaw. Willie. Up and waur them a', Willie, Up and waur them a'; The Borough rats hae got a fright, So keep them still in awe,Willie. The Bill, the Bill,—the people cries, Unaltei 'd in its law, Willie ! And they who would this voice despise, May get an unco claw, Willie. Up and waur them a', Willie, Up and waur them a', Corruption's skulking in a neuk, To watch and rin 'awa*, Willie, �Pandas says folks are unco weei, And need nae inair ava, Willie ; But curse on every le'in cheil, That sports like him their jaw, Willie* U p and waur them a', Willie, Up and waur them a'; The glorious work is now begun, And tyrants at the wa', Willie. A nation's praise, a nation's thanks, Resound amang us a', Willie ; And they'll be fewer jobbing pranks, When Sarum's done awa', Willie. U p and waur them a', Willie, U p and waur them a'; The time has come when we'll be free, In spite of fate and a' Willie. Let India Nabob's cock their nose, Like Sultan or Bashaw, Willie; Yet we'll hae tea, as well as brose, Direct, and cheap and a', Willie, U p and waur them a', Willie, U p and waur them a'; Let nothing chain the British flag, Where fav'ring breezes blaw, Willie. Some call the people just a mob, That has nae sense ava, Willie ; And who should quietly toom their fob, For taxes and for a', Willie. U p and waur them a', Willie, Up and waur them a'; The people just can think as weel, As Goulbourn, P e e l and a', Willie. So just muck out " anld Geordie's byre,'* And gi'e us good pea straw, Willie; To keep our Members out the mire G' rank corruption's law, Willie. �5 Up and waur them a', Willie, Up and waur them a* : The Ten Pound vote's a noble thing Of which we weel may craw, Willie, Should we e'er fight wi' foreign leons, And pay for this an' a' Willie ; Baith boroughs and the muckle towns Will hae a voice in a* Willie. Up and waur them a' Willie, Up and waur them a*, When we hae votes we daurna growl, 'Gainst legislation's law, Willie. SHOULD AULD CORRUPTION, A i r — F o r Auld Lang syne. Should auld corruption be forgot, And never brought to min'; Should treasury benches be forgot, And the jobs o' langsyne. For auld langsyne, my frien*, For auld langsyne; We have a glorious pension yet, For auld langsyne. We twa lia'e dabbl'd in the stocks, Wrhen news were in their prime ; And mony a famous haul we got, In the days o' langsyne. For auld langsyne, my frien', For auld langsyne; This curst reform has done our goose, Alas! for langsyne. &C. �6 W e twa liae ruto about Saint James, And drunk the best o' w i n e ; And we've come reeling royal hame, I n the days o' langsyne. For auld langsyne, my frien', For auld langsyne; W e now maun pay for what vve drink, N o r think o' langsyne. So gi'es your haun my trusty frien', The deil a thing's in mine ; O' for the bribes w e used to get, In the days o' langsyne. For auld langsyne, my frien', For auld langsyne; W e should ha'e hang'd that rascal Hume, In days o' langsyne. And surely you'll be your pint stoup, For now I've finish'd mine ; And we maun sip <>u muslin kail, Unless ask'd out to dine. For auld langsyne my frien,' For auld langsyne; This wild reform and Josey Hume, Ha'e alter'd langsyne. HEY, BOBBY A I K— Johnny FEJ:Iv, &C. Cope. H e y Bobby Peel are ye wanking yet, And are your troops a marching yet, And do you think you can defeat, The Russel Bill for Reforming ? �7 Go muster just as strong's you please, The country keeps itsel at ease, For every one too plainly sees Your motive's 'gainst reforming. You're known to be a party tool, Too fond of place, and fond of rule, Brought up in Londonderry's school, A school against reforming. Shake hands with Wellington the chief, Go mingle tears with Vy vian's grief; Poor Gascoigne's reign has been but brief, Since he went against reforming. Hail to WILLIAM our gracious king, And in his praises let us sing, Who can to Britain glory bring, Our glory is reforming. Hey Bobby Peel are ye running yet, And are your troops retreating yet, For by my sang ye will be beat, On the motion for reforming. A FAMOUS MAN, AIR—My &C. Love she's but a Lassie yet. A famous man was Noble Grey, The staunch Reformer's hope and joy ; Nor need we care what those may say, Who would, who would the cause destroy, �A dauntless .front our Sovereign shews, And tyranny he will disarm ; A Patriot heart in Brougham glows, To keep, to keep Reform from harm. A famous man, &c. A daring mood is in the Bill, Yet still it is a simple plan ; That Ten Pound Voters use their will, To choose, to choose their proper man* A famous man, &c. N o w Britons they are free to rove, Nor care for Boroughmongers* rag« ; And they can check the House above To rule, to rule as fits our age. A famous man, &c. ask not freedom from the French, Nor Jonathan to mend our l a w s ; For liberty our country's staunch, And what, and what can stop ©ur cause, A famous man, k c . � https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/bdd1566d0efa65e34e5538562061efa1.jpg 9bb43f9bf8f178e38ad9393c386b35f2 Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Songs of the Times, or the Voice of the People. Let us hail our Patriot King. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1830 Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9953133953505154">s0141b34</a> Description An account of the resource woodcut headpiece: lion and unicorn, on the title-page. Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. Chapbook #49 in a bound collection of 54 chapbooks Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. Let us hail our patriot king We've heard the new frae Lon'on town Should auld corruption, & c. Hey, Bobby Peel, & c. A famous man, & c. Voices of the people Extent The size or duration of the resource. 8 pages Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant London, England Subject The topic of the resource Ballads and songs Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Type The nature or genre of the resource ballad Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available [Paisley] Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/d8b251a9aeae5d803d0c18a4f346c607.jpg a39c60e00a0ba450e96e60986e90fdec Omeka Image File The metadata element set that was included in the `files_images` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all image files. Bit Depth 8 Channels 3 Height 3544 Width 2060 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Woodcut on title-page portraying a soldier wearing a helmet with feathers and cloak with ace turned to left https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/a1951f405d84d1507e53b42eab206d4c.pdf ade3dc6fbbb3760f1b527e2cb06e4780 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Woodcut 032: Title-page illustration of a soldier with his face turned to the left in an outdoor scene. He is wearing a feathered helmet and cloak. Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Spouter's Companion. Outalissi's Death Song How-d'ye-do and Goodbye Gertrude Von De Wart Billy Dip Tell's Speech The Country Schoolmaster Alonzo the Brave The Old Man, his Son, and Ass On the Downfall of Poland The Fate of Richmond the Spy Parody on Lord Ullin's Daughter Hohenlinden Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9923421393505154">s0124b26</a> Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. Outalissi's Death Song How-d'ye-do and Goodbye Gertrude Von De Wart Billy Dip Tell's Speech The Country Schoolmaster Alonzo the Brave The Old Man, his Son, and Ass On the Downfall of Poland The Fate of Richmond the Spy Parody on Lord Ullin's Daughter Hohenlinden Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1840-1850 per University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks Extent The size or duration of the resource. 24 pages 16 cm Description An account of the resource 105 printed at the bottom of the title-page. Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Poland Paisley, Scotland Hohenlinden, Germany Subject The topic of the resource Crime War Wit and Humor Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow Supernatural Is Referenced By A related resource that references, cites, or otherwise points to the described resource. University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks <a title="University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks" href="http://special.lib.gla.ac.uk/chapbooks/search/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">http://special.lib.gla.ac.uk/chapbooks/search/</a> Abstract A summary of the resource. A collection of ballads, recitations, and other items. Topics include: a death-song of a Native American chief; a playful song about saying hello and goodbye; a martyr’s lament who refuses to leave her husband’s side as he is tortured to death; a humorous song about an aging widow and a dyer; a celebration of liberty and landscape; a humorous song about a schoolmaster; a gothic tale of an unfaithful woman visited by the ghoulish apparition of her betrayed lover at her wedding; a moral tale encouraging young men not to pay mind to jeerers; a lament describing the fall of Poland; a declamation of crimes of the notorious spy, Richmond; the story of a weaver who loses his pack in the snow; and a description of the battle of Hohenlinden; the song of a drunkard before and after drinking; a description of the death of Marmion at Flodden; and a conversation between a father and son detailing the evils of drinking. Type The nature or genre of the resource ballads & songs Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For higher quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario # of Woodcuts: 1 Bib Context: title-page Chapbook Date: 1841-1850 Chapbook Genre: ballads & songs Chapbook Publisher - Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Fashion (Clothing): military Gender: man/men Weapons: sword(s) https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/64e985c09bbde046be09b8e6fef0f979.pdf 4fc79274357d0ab115f86733ff4cf0bc https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/cdba60402f270acc594a73edc981ac54.jpg 5f488bb84c790dfaaf6dda17d7df1c6f https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/8e2c9e69ce6f155636a9dcd05921cdce.jpg 1b6fbf1926bfaac817581fe034c4099e https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/212f84178829db26324e36077fe7a664.jpg 537283fd56fca97e564e1a84b57811b8 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/407baf0721e5d845c2b84fadb62604e0.jpg 77ca1431f7462afc8eaac8fc0754b97b https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/3064e35ae9eaee8b663aa89cddf5cc65.jpg ccba6cab10f85e590d7dbbcf5368c791 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/558b5a0b76c780d6fe5cfd86d47413e3.jpg d9c965e78cdc735f782758b74d408ffa https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/247c36e13a73790329e148f6689c98da.jpg e61a2af0c6ca321b87174be7a6d81a6f https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/26001fdb6efe54b8c66ccf7d4b072f60.jpg 60da73281e730602f9bf8767a75fe987 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/464516c6c273aac68067a8c89043f2c0.jpg dd021cf0b3fc9082f9fead1a48e22f69 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/43816f1b3b56b66bde2347c4d854a259.jpg bf6e6e10597b897d68be81b6feba42d4 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/5d42f6c22a3c2c819f02bb281c4f8e72.jpg acbdfab5d7533be5f9576f0de3477cb5 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/be3ab81f4d828c092e3b61e63c14a6df.jpg 4ebffa15684855c57aaea3f5e856ac77 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/9d7826460b8eb5cf99be31abe3a1e5f7.jpg f6b1e512e8c4303097e21fd4ca07c1d2 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/4bb4c5d3734625fede0e63d635b45237.jpg 32b9af6ba71ed5fb9a690ea5f708d487 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/b4bd32fdae3e361672611d8f58497943.jpg 6551d60f0d03cd4453bc4cfadbc4c68c https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/d33e3abe9297cc058f216a7693958d35.jpg c1c72072f28f21fc469ca68002077da7 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/70f573ca1f5440412d567646ee511236.jpg fb988c05c8fb87dd99b9b274cf9555e0 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/8d3bff5a5f394a959c5359d0ac9bf032.jpg 399b85a51f6548c7200784841f88f179 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/0ae41887b24310051aef37b950a08a8d.jpg b1129457487fa68429444d65689a9bf0 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/4127fcdfde44faf7279886981ca0ce62.jpg af5ebfa3821f03a9632ab9c5a4a29d0b https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/3c7ed1874191567460f0302131d09620.jpg 1cc038fa0db21b8af8fb8e669b92933f https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/864b74e199628703aae6ce2d8ddf8432.jpg f0c0a2dbe762c4b5194629e390e821dc https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/64dbde2b07c362ffacd1c48c17830dd3.jpg 0c298168d94a5a4b8ea99283c8429e50 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/21829ee0e6bc7f6ae336e7a101b9ee08.jpg 23c4727721d1d94542b6b2bface380a3 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource St. Ronan's Well; or, The Fatal Effects of a Clandestine Marriage: A Scottish Tale. In which are displayed the Villanous Treachery and Just Punishment of the Earl of Etherington; The Misfortunes of Francis Tyrell, and the Barbarous Treatment and Cruel Death of Miss Clara Mowbray. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9953133973505154">s0042b27</a> Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. A bound collection of 37 chapbooks; Chapbook #28 Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. The fatal effects of a Clandestine marriage : a Scottish tale Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For higher quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Extent The size or duration of the resource. 24 pages Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Oatley: Printed by William Walker https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/b81666d0c50cd26b089fe7f42e97addd.jpg 91f22af895335412a07c643847510a5c Omeka Image File The metadata element set that was included in the `files_images` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all image files. Bit Depth 8 Channels 3 Height 3367 Width 1959 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/7e7c3c250a0bbae2b866b49815970be8.pdf 07b5531778acd47afc82eeaf4c862349 PDF Text Text STORIES Mk T H E T W O OF D R O V E R S , COUNTESS OF EXETER. GLASGOW PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS, M �r 40 8&IHQT8 8 1 1 K V O H . (i O W JH3THX3; TO 88aTKUD3 V/008A JO •BHSLIJiiBHOaa 5 H HOI IJ3TM TT �THE TWO DROVERS, IT was the day after the Doune Fair when my story commences. It had been a brisk market, several dealers had attended from the northern and midland counties in England, and the English money had flown so merrily about as to gladden the hearts of the Highland farmers. Many large droves were about to set ©ff for England, under the protection of their owners, Dr of the topsmen whom they employed in tke tedious, laborious, and responsible office of driving the cattle for many hundred miles, from the market where they had been purchased, to the fields or farm-yards where they were to be fattened for the shambles. Of the number who left Doune in the morning, and with the purpose we have described, not a Glunamie of them all cocked his bonnet more briskly, or gartered his tartan hose under knee over a pair of more promising spiogs (legs), than did Robin Oig M'Combich, called familiarly Robin Oig, that is Young, or the Lesser, Robin. Though small of stature, as the epithet Oig implies, and not very strongly limbed, he was as light and alert as one of the deer of his mountains. He had an elasticity of step, which, in the course of a long march, made many a stout fellow envy him ; and the manner in which he busked his plaid, and adjusted his bonnet argued a consciousness that so smart a John Highlandman as himself would not pass unnoticed among the lowland lasses. The ruddy cheek* red lips, and white teeth, set off a countenance which had gained by exposure to the weather, a healthful and hardy rather than a rugged hue. If Robin Oig did not laugh, ven smile frequently, as indeed is not the practice his countrymen, his bright eyes usually gleamed �4) from under his bonnet with an expression of cheerfulness 1 rea 1 * * J ' ' was an incident in the little lowu^ iirmiu near which he had many friends male and female. He was a topping person in his way, transacting considerable business on his own behalf, and was intrusted by the best farmers in the Highlands, in preilerenGe to any other drover in that district. Many were the Affords of gratulation and good luck which were bestowed on Robin Oig. The judges commended his; drove, especially the best of them, whicV were Robin's own property. Some thrust out theil snuff-mulls for the parting pinch—others tendered the doch-an-dorrach, or parting cup. All cried-—" Goodluck travel out with you and come home with you.— Give you luck in the Saxon market-—bravje notes in the ivabhar-dhu, (black pocket-book,) and plenty of Eng iish gold in the sporran (pouch of goat-skin.)" The bonny lasses made their adieus more modestly, and more than one, it was said, would have given her best broach to be certain that it was upon her that his eye last rested as he turned towards his road. Robin Oig had just given the preliminary " IIoohoo ,to urge forward the loiterers of the drove, when there was a cry behind him. " Stay, Robin—bide a blink. Here, is Janet of Tomahourich—auld Janet, your father's sister." " Plague on her, for an auld Highland witch and spaewife," said a farmer from the Carse of Stirling ; " she'll cast some of her cantrips on the cattle.'' " She canna do that," said another sapient of the same profession—Robin Oig is no the lad to leave any of them, without tying Saint Mungo's knot on their tails, and that will put to her speed the best witch that ever flew over Dimayet upon a broomstick," It may not be indifferent to the reader to know, that the Highland cattle are peculiarly liable to be taken, or infected, by spells and witchcraft, which judicious people guard against by knitting knots of peculiar corn- �5 plexity on the the tuft of hair which terminates the animal's tail. But .the old woman who was the object of the farmer's suspicion seemed only busied about the drover, without paying any attention to the flock. Robin, on the contrary, appeared rather impatient of her presence. " What auld-world fancy," he said, " has brought you so early from the ingle-side this morning, Muhnae ? I am sure I bid you good even, and had your God-speed, last night." " And left me more siller than the useless old woman will use till you come back again, bird ci my bosom," said the sibyl. " But it is little I would care for the food that nourishes me, or the fire that warms me, or for God's blessed sun itself, if aught but weal should happen to the grandson of my father. So let me walk the deasil round you, that you may go safe out into the far foreign land, and come safe home." Robin Oig stopped, half embarrassed, half laughing, and signing to those around that he only complied with the old woman to soothe her humour. In the meantime, she traced around him, with wavering steps, the propitiation, which some have thought has been derived from the Druiclical mythology. It consists, as is well known, in the person who makes the deasil, walking three times round the person who is the object of the ceremony, taking care to move according to the course of the sun. At once, however, she stopped short, and exclaimed, in a voice of alarm and horror, " Grandson of my father, there is blood on your hand J" " Hush, for God's sake, aunt,11 said Robin Oig; "you will bring more trouble on yourself with this TaUhataragh (second sight) than you will be able to get out of for many a day." The old woman only repeated, with a ghastjy look, " There is blood on your hand* and it is English blood. The blood of the Gael is richer and redder. Let us see—let us " Ere Robin Oig could prevent her, which, indeed, could only have been by positive violence, so hasty and peremptory were her proceedings, she had drawn from his side the dirk which �6 lodged in the folds of his plaid, and held it up, exclaiming, although the weapon gleamed clear and bright in the sun, " Blood, blood—Saxon blood again I Robin Oig M'Cornbich, go not this day to England !" " Prutt, trutt,' 1 answered Robin Oig, " that will never do neither—it would be next tiling to running the country. For shame, Muhme—give me the dirk. You cannot tell by the colour the difference betwixt the blood of a black bullock and a white one, and you speak of knowing Saxon from Gaelic blood. All men have their blood from Adam, Muhme. Give me my skenedhu, and let me go on my road. I should have been half way to Stirling brig by this time—Give me my dirk, and let me go." x< Never will I give it to you," said the old woman—" Never will I quit my hold on your plaid, unless you promise me riot to wear that unhappy weapon." The women around him urged him also, saying few of his aunt's words fell to the ground; and as the Lowland farmers continued to look moodily on the scene, Robin Oig determined to close it at any sacrifice. < Well, then," said the young drover, giving the cabbard of the weapon to Hugh Morrison, " you JLowanders care nothing for these freats. Keep my dirk for me. I cannot give it you, because it was my father's; biit your drove follows ours, and I am content it should be in your keeping, not in mine.—Will this db, Muhme?" " I t must," said the old woman— " that is, if the Lowlander is mad enough to carry the knife." The strong westlandman laughed aloud. "Goodwife/1 said he, " I am Hugh Morrison from Glenae, come of the Manly Morrisons of auld langsyne, that never took short weapon against a man in their lives. And neither needed they: They had their broadswords, Mid I have this bit supple (showing a formidable cudgel)—for disking ower the board, I leave that to John HigMandman.-—Ye needna snort, none of you Highlanders, and you in especial, Robin. I'll keep the bit knife, if you are feared for the auld �7 spaewife's tale, and give it back to you whenever you want it." Robin drove on his cattle, and waved farewell to all behind him. He was in the greater haste, because he expected to join at Falkirk a comrade and brother in profession, with whom he proposed to travel in company. Robin OigV chosen friend was a young Englishman, Harry Wakefield by name, well known at every northern market,. and in his way as much famed and honoured as our Highland driver of bullocks. He was nearly six feet high, gallantly formed to keep the rounds at Smithfield, or maintain the ring at a wrestling match; and although he might have been overmatched, perhaps, among the regular professors of the Fancy, yet as a chance customer, he was able to give a bellyful to any amateur of the pugilistic art. Doncaster races saw him in his glory, betting his guinea, and generally successfully; nor was there a main fought in Yorkshire, the feeders being persons of celebrity, at which he was not to be seen, if business permitted. But though a sprack lad, and fond of pleasure and its haunts, Harry Wakefield was steady, and not the cautious Robin Oig M'Combich himself was more attentive to the main chance. His holidays were holidays indeed; but his days of work were dedicated to steady and persevering labour. In countenance and temper, Wakefield was the model of Old England's merry yeomen, whose clothyard shafts, in so many hundred battles, asserted her superiority over the nations, and whose good sabres, in our own time, are her cheapest and most assured defence. His mirth was readily excited ; for, 6trong in limb and constitution, and fortunate in circumstances, he was disposed to be pleased with every thing about him ; and such difficulties as he might occasionally encounter, were, to a man of bis energy, rather matter of amusement than serious annoyance. With all the merits of a sanguine temper, our you English drover was not without his defects. He �^ j Ui . 8 ^ •, ~ irascible, and sometimes to the verge of being quarrelsome ; and perhaps not the less inclined to bring his disputes. tp a pugilistic decision, because he found few antagonists able to stand up to him in the boxing ring. The pair of friends had traversed with their usual cordiality the grassy wilds of Liddesdale, and crossed the opposite part of Cumberland, emphatically called The Waste. In, these solitary regions, the cattle under the charge of our drovers subsisted themselves cheaply, by picking then food as they went along the droveroad, or sometimes by the tempting opportunity of a start and owerloup, or invasion of the neighbouring pasture, where an occasion presented itself. But now the sc^ne changed before them ; they were descending towards a fertile and inclosed country, where no such liberties could be taken with impunity, or without a previous arrangement and bargain with the possessors of the ground. Tins was more especially the, case, as a great northern fair was upon the eve of taking place, where both the Scotch and English drover expected to dispose of a part of their cattle, which it was desirable to produce in the market^rested and in good order* Fields were- .therefore ....difficult to be obtained, aijd* only upon high terms. This necessity occasioned a, temporary separation betwixt the two friends, who went to. bargain, each as he could, for the separate accommodation of his herd. Unhappily it chanced that both of them* unknown to each other, thought of bargaining for the ground they wanted on the property of a country gentleman of some fortune, whose estate lay in the neighbourhood. The English drover applied to the bailiff on the property, who was known to him. It chanced that the Cumbrian,Squire, who had entertained some suspicions of his Manager's honesty was taking occasional measures to ascertain how fax they were wpll founded, and had desired that any inquiries about his inclosures, with a view to occupy them for a temporary purpose, should be referred to himself. As, however, Mr I rely �9 had gone the day before upon a journey of some miles' distance to £he nortjiward, the bailiff fcp colder the check upon his full powers as for tjgfc tinje,^emQyed, and concluded that he should W s t e q n s ^ j l ^ paster's interest, and perhaps his own, in making sjn agreement with Harry Wakefield. Meanwhile, ..igjQ^nt^fjf what his comrade was doing, Robin Dig, on his sid^ chanced to be overtaken by a well-looked smart little man upon a pony, most knowingly hogged and capped, as was then the fashion, the rider wearing tightfeatherbreeches, and long-necked bright spurs. This cavalier asked one or two pertinent questions about markets and the price of stock. So Donald, seeing him a well-judging civil gentleman, took the freedom to ask him whether he could let him know if there was any grass-land to be let in that neighbourhood, for the temporary accommodation of his drove. He could not have put the question to more willing ears. The gentleman of the buckskins was the proprietor, with whose bailiff Harry Wakefield had dealt, or was in the act of dealing. " Thou art in good luck, my canny Scot," said Mr Ireby, to have spoken to me, for I see thy cattle have done their day's work, and I have at my disposal the only field within three miles that is to be let in these parts/ " T h e drove can pe gang two, three, four miles very pratty well indeed—0 said the cautious Highlander ; put what would his honour pe axing for the beasts pe the head, if she was to tak ^he park for twa or three days ?" We wont differ, Sawney, if you let me have six stots for winterers, in the way of reason." " And which peasts would your hpnour pe for having ?*' " Why—let me see—the two black—the dun one—yon doddy, him with the twisted horn-—the brocket— How much by the head ?" Ah," said Robin, " your honour is a shudge—a real shudge—I couldna have set off the pest six peasts petter mysell, me that ten them as if they were my pairns, puir things." " Well, how much per head, Sawney," continued Mr Ireby. " It was high markets at Doune and Falkirk," answered Robin. �10 And thus the conversation proceeded until they had agreed on the prix juste for the bullocks, the Squire throwing in the temporary accommodation of the inclosure for the cattle into the boot, and Robin making, as he thought a very good bargain, providing the grass was but tolerable; The Squire walked his pony alongside of the drove, partly to show him the way, and see him put into possession of the field, and partly to learn the latest news of the northern markets. They arrived at the field, and the pasture seemed excellent. But what was their surprise when they saw the bailiff quietly inducting the cattle of Harry Wakefield into the grassy Goshen which had just been assigned to those of Robin Oig M'Combich by the proprietor himself. Squire Ireby set spurs to his horse, dashed up to his servant, and learning what had passed between the parties, briefly informed the English drover that his bailiff had let the ground without his authority, and that he might seek grass for his cattle wherever he would, since he was to get none there. At the same time he rebuked his servant severely for having transgressed his commands, and ordered him instantly to assist in ejecting the hungry and weary cattle of Harry Wakefield, which were just beginning to enjoy a meal of unusual plenty, and to introduce those of his comrade, whom the English drover now began to consider J as a rival. \ , The feelings which arose in Wakefield's mind would have induced him to resist Mr Ireby s decision; but every Englishman has a tolerably accurate sense of law and justice, and John Fleecebumpkin, the bailiff, having acknowledged that he had exceeded his commission, Wakefield saw nothing else for it than to collect his hungry and disappointed charge, and drive them on to seek quarters elsewhere. Robin Oig saw what had happened with regret, and hastened to offer to his English friend to share with him t-he disputed possession. But Wakefield's pride was severely hurt, and he snewered disdainfully, " Take it all, man—take it all �11 — never make two bites of a cheny—thoa canst talk over the gentry, and blear a plain man's eye—Out upon tou, man—I would not kiss any man's dirty latchets fbr leave to bake in his oven." Robin Oig, sorry but not surprised at his comrade's displeasure, hastened to entreat his friend to wait but % hour till he had gone to the Squire's house to receive n payment for the cattle he had sold, and he would come back and help him to drive the cattle into some convenient place of rest, and explain to him the whole mistake they had both of them fallen into. But the Englishman continued indignant: " Thou hast been selling, hast thou ? Ay, ay—thou is a cunning lad for kenning the hours of bargaining. Go to the devil with thyself, for I will ne'er see thy fause loon's visage again—thou should be ashamed to look me in the face.1 " I am ashamed to look no man in the face," said Robin Oig, something moved ; " and, moreover, I will look you in the face this blessed day, if you will bide at the Clachan down yonder." " Mayhap you had as well keep away," said his comrade; and turning his back on his former friend, he collected his unwilling associates, assisted by the bailiff, who took some real arid some affected interest in seeing Wakefield accommodated. After spending some time in negotiating with more than one of the neighbouring farmers, who could not, or would not afford the accommodation desired, Henry Wakefield at last, and in his necessity, accomplished his point by means of the landlord of the alehouse at which Robin Oig and he had agreed to pass the night, When they first separated from each other. Mine host was content to let him turn his cattle on a piece of barren moor, at a price little less than the bailiff had asked for the disputed inclosure; and the wretchedness of the pasture, as well as the price paid for it, were set down as exaggerations of the breach of faith and friendship of his Scottish crony. This turn of Wakefield's passions was encouraged by the bailiff, (who had his own reasons for being offended against poor Robin, as having �been the unwitting ca^ise of His falling into disgrace with his master,) as well as by the innkeeper, and two or three chance guests, who soothed the drover in his resentment against his quondam associate,—some from the ancient grudge against the Scots, which, when it exists anywhere is to be found lurking in the border counties, and some from the general love of mischief, which characterises mankind in all ranks of life, to the honour of Adams children be it spoken. Good John Barleycorn also, who always heightens and exaggerates the prevailing passions, be they angry or kindly, was not wanting in his offices on this occasion; and confusion to false friends and hard masters, was pledged in more than one tankard, u • hY-v--. . •• • In the meanwhile Mr Ireby found some amusement in detaining the northern drover at his ancient hall. He caused a cold round of beef to be placed before the Scot in the butler's pantry, together with a foaming tankard of home-brewed, and took pleasure in seeing the hearty appetite with which these unwonted edibles were discussed by Robin Oig M'Combich. The Squire himself lighting his pipe, compounded between his patrician dignity arid his love of agricultural gossip, by walking up and down while he conversed with his guest. " I passed another drove,1' said the Squire, " with one of your countrymen behind them—they were something less beasts than your drove, doddies most of them—a big man was with them—none of your kilts thougn, but a decent pair of breeches—D'ye know who he may be H11 " Hout ay—that might, could, and would pe Hughie Morrison—I didna think he could hae peen sae weel up. He has made a day on us ; put his Argyleshires will have wearied shanks. How far was he pehind ?" " I think about six or seven miles,'1 answered the Squire, "for I passed them at the Christenbury Cragg, ana I overtook you at the Hollan Bush. If his beasts be leg-weary, he will be maybe selling bargains.11 ff Na, na, Hughie Morrison is no the man for pargains— maun come to some Highland body like Robin Oig he �13 sell for the like of these—put I maun pe wishing you goot night, and twenty of them, let alane ane, and I maun down to the Clachan to see if the lad Henry Waakfelt is out of his humdudgeons yet," The party at the alehouse were still in full talk, and the treachery of Robin Oig still the theme of conversation, when the supposed culprit, entered the apartment. His arrival, as usually happens in such a case, put an instant stop to the discussion of which he had furnished the subject, and he was received by the company!assembled with that chilling silence, which, more than a thousand exclamations, tells an intruder that he is unwelcome. Surprised and offended, but not appalled by the reception which he experienced, Robin entered with an undaunted, and even a haughty air, attempted no greeting as he saw he was received with none, and placed himself by the side of the fire, a little apart from a table, at which Harry Wakefield, the bailiff, and two or three other persons, were seated. The ample Cumbrian kitchen would have afforded plenty of room even for a larger separation. Robin, thus seated, proceeded to light his pipe, and call for a pint of twopenny. " We have no twopence ale," answered Ralph Heskett the landlord; but as thou find'st thy own tobacco, it's like thou may'st find thine own liquor too—it's the wont of thy country, I wot." " Shame, goodman," said the landlady, a blithe bustling housewife, hastening herself to supply the guest With liquor—" Thou knowest well enow what the strange man wants, and it's thy trade to be civil* man* Thou shouldst know, that if the Scot likes a small pot, he pays a sure penny." Without taking any notice of this nuptial dialogue, Ihe Highlander took the flagon in his hand, and adiressing the company generally, drank the interesting loast of " Good markets," to the party assembled. * The better that the wind blew fewer dealers from tie north," said one of the farmers, " and fewer Highand runts to eat up the English meadows." " Saul of �u my pody, put you are wrang there my friend," answered Robin, with composure, 44 it is your fat Englishmen that eat up our Scots cattle, puir things." " I wish there was a summat to eat up their drovers," said another; " a plain Englishman canna make bread within a kenning of them." ( ( Or an honest servant keep his master's favour, but they will come sliding in between him and the sunshine," said the bailiff. " If these pe jokes," said Robin Oig, with the same composure, 44 there is ower mofiy jokes upon one man." 44 It's no joke, but downright earnest," said the bailiff. " Hark ye, Mr Robin Ogg, or whatever is your name, it's right we should tell you that we are all of one opinion, and that is, that you, Mr Robin Ogg, have behaved to our friend Mr Harry Wakefield here, like a raff and a blackguard." 44 Nae doubt, nae doubt,'1 answered Robin, with great composure ; 44 and you are a set of very feeling judges, for whose prains or pehaviour I wad not gie a pinch of sneeshing* If Mr Harry Waakfelt kens where he is wranged, he kens where he may be righted." " He speaks truth," said Wakefield, who had listened to what passed, divided between the offence which he had taken at Robin's late behaviour, and the revival of his habitual habits of friendship. He now rose, and went towards Robin, who got up from his seat as he approached, and held out his hand. " That's right, Harry—go it—serve him out," resounded on all sides—tc tip him the nailer—show him the mill." 44 Hold your peace all of you, and be —," laid Wakefield; and then addressing his comrade, he took him by the extended hand, with something alike of respect and defiance. 44 Robin," he said, thou hast used me ill enough this day; but if you mean like a frank fellow, to shake hands, and take a tussel for love on the sod, why I'll forgie the man, and we shall be better friends than ever." 44 And would it not pe petter to be cood friends without more of the matter ?" said Robin ; " w e will be much petter friendships with our panes hale than broken." �15 Harry Wakefield dropped the hand of his friend, or rather threw it from him. " I did not think I had deen keeping company for three years with a coward." u Coward pelongs to none of my name," said Robin* whose eyes began to kindle, but keeping the command of his temper. " I t was no coward's legs or hands, Harry Waakfelt, that drew you out of the fords of Frew, when you was drifting ower the plack rock, and every eel in the river expected his share of you.1' " And that is true enough, too,11 said the Englishman, struck by the appeal. " Adzooks !" exclaimed the bailiff— " sure Harry Wakefield, the nattiest lad at Whitson Tryste, Wooler Fair, Carlisle Sands, or Stagshaw bank, is not going to show white feather ? Ah* this comes of living so long with kilts and bonnets—*men forget the use of their daddies.11 " I may teach you, Master Fleecebumpkin, that I have not lost the use ot mine,11 said Wakefield, and then went on. " This will never do, Robin. We must have a turn-up, or we shall be the talk of the country side. I'll be d -d if I hurt thee—I'll put on the gloves gin thou like. Come, stand forward like a man," " To pe peaten like a dog," said Robin ; " i s there any reason in that ? If you think I have done you wrong, I'll go before your shudge, though I neither know his law nor his language." A general cry of " No, no,—no law, no lawyer ! a bellyful and be friends," was echoed by the bystanders. " But," continued Robin, " if I am to fight, I have no skill to fight like a jackanapes, with hands and nails." " How would you fight then ?" said his antagonist: " though I am thinking it would be hard to bring you to the scratch anyhow." " I would fight with proadswoards, and sink point on the first blood drawn like a gentlernans." A loud shout of laughter followed the proposal, which indeed had rather escaped from poor Robin's swelling heart, than been the dictates of his sober judgment. Gentleman, quotha I" was echoed on all sides, with �1.6 a shout of unextinguishable, laughter: " a very pretty gentleman, God wot—Canst get two swords for the gentleman to fight with, Ralph Heskett ?'' " No, but I ean send to the armoury at Carlisle, and lend .thetu two forks to be making shift .with* in the meantime," ' Tush,, man,1' said another, " the bonny Scots come into the world with the blue bonnet on their heads, and dirk and pistol at their belt." " Uest send post," said Mr Meecebumpkin, " to the Squire of Corby Castle,, to come and stand second to the gentleman, In the midst Of this torrent of general ridicule, the Highlander instinctively griped beneath the folds of his plaid. " But it's better not," he said in his own language. " A hundred curses on the - swine-eaters, who know neither decency nor civility ! Make room, the pack of you," he said, advancing to the door. But his former friend interposed his sturdy bulk, and opposed his leaving the house; and when Robin Oig attempted to make his way by force, he hit him down on the floor, with as much ease as a boy bowls down a nine-pin. " A ring ! a ring !" was now shouted, until the dark rafters, and the hams that hung on them, trembled again, and the very platters on the bink clattered against each other. i6 Well done, H a r r y . ' " Give it him home, Harry."—" Take care of him now—he sees his own blood!" Such were the exclamations, while the Highlander, starting from the ground, all his coldness and caution lost in frantic rage, sprung at his antagonist with the fury, the activity, and the vindictive purpose, of an incensed tiger-cat. But when could rage enCotffrter science and temper ? Robin Oig again wen t. down in the unequal contest; and as the blow was necessarily a severe one, he lay motionless on the floor of the kitchen. The landlady ran to offer some aid, but Mr Fleecebumpkin would not permit her to approach. " L e t him alone," he said, " he will come to within time, and come up to the scratch again. He has not got half his broth yet." " He has got all I mean to �17 give him, though," said his antagonist, whose heart began to relent towards his old associate; " and I would rather by half give the rest to yourself, Mr Fleecebumpkin for you pretend to know a thing or two, and Robin had not art enough even to peel before setting to, but fought with his plaid dangling about him.—Stand up Robiri, my man! all friends now; and let me hear the man that will speak a word ag&inst you, or your country for your sake." Robin Oig was still under the dominion of his passion, and eager to renew the onset; but being withheld on the one side by the peace-making Dame Heskett, and on the other, aware that Wakefield no lotiger meant to renew the combat, his fury sunk into gloomy sulleiiness. " Come, come, never grudge so much at it, man," said t|ie brave-spirited Englishman, with the placability of his country, shake hands, and we will be better friends than ever.1' Friends !" exclaimed Robin Oig with strong emphasis—" friends P—Never. Look to yourself, Harry Waakfelt." " Then the curse of Cromwell on your proud Scots stomach, as the man says in the play, and you may do your worst and bed——d ; for one man can say nothing more to another after a tussel, than that he is sorry for ft." On these terms the friends parted; Robin Oig drew out, in silence, a piece of money, threw .it on the table, and then left the alehouse. But turning at the door, he shook his hand at Wakefield, pointing1 with his forefinger upwards, in a manner which might imply either a threat or a caution. He then disappeared in the moonlight. Some words passed after his departure, between the bailiff, who piqued himself on being' a l;ttle of a bully, and Harry Wakefield, who with geneims inconsistency, was now not indisposed to begin a new combat in defence of Robin Qigs reputation, " although he could fiot use his daddies like an Englishman, as it did not come natural to him." But Dame Heskttt prevented this second quarrel from coining to a head by her peremptory �18 interference. 44 There should be no more fighting in iier house," she said ; " there had been too much already.—And you, Mr Wakefield, may live to learn," she added, " what it is to make a deddly enemy out of a good friend." ; " Psha, dame! Robin Oig is an honest fellow, and will nev«r keep malice." " Do not trust to that—you do not know the dour temper of the Scotch, though you have dealt with thein so often, I have a right to know them, my mother being a Scot." "And.so is well seen in her daughter," said Ralph Heskett. This nuptial sarcasm gave the discourse another turn; fresh custpmers entered the tap-room or kitchen, and others left it. The conversation turned on the expected markets, and the report of prices from the different parts of Scotland and England—treaties were commenced, and Harry Wakefield was lucky enough to find a chap for a part of his drove, and at a very considerable profit ; an event of consequence more than sufficient to blot out all remembrances of the unpleasant scuffle in the earlier part of the day. But there remained one party from whose mind that recollection could not have been Yflped away by possession of every head of cattle betwixt Esk and Eden. This was Robin Oig M'Combich.—" That I should have had no weapon," he said, and for the first time in my life !—-Blighted be the tongue that bids the Highlander part with the dirk—the dirk—ha ! the English blood !—My Muhme's word—when did her word fall to the ground?" The recollection of the fatal prophecy confirmed the deadly intention which instantly sprung up in his mind. " Ha ! Morrison cannot be many miles behind ; and if it were an hundred, what then !" His impetuous spirit had now a fixed purpose and motive of action, and he turned the light foot of his country towards the wilds, through which he knew, by Mr Ireby's report, that Morrison was advancing. His jnind was wholly engrossed by the sense of injury—in- �}[) uiry sustained from a friend ; and by the desire of vengeance on one whom he now accounted his most bitter enemy. The treasured ideas of self-importance and self-opinion—of ideal birth and quality, had become more precious to him, (like the hoard to the miser,) because he could only enjoy them in secret. But that hoard was pillaged, the idols which he had secretly worshipped had been desecrated and profaned. Insulted, abused, and beaten, he was no longer worthy, in his own opinion, of the name he bore, or the lineage which he belonged to—nothing was left to him—nothing but revenge ; and, as the reflection added a galling spur to every step, he determined it should be as sudden and signal as the offence. When Robin Oig left the door of the alehouse, seven or eight English miles at least lay betwixt Morrison and him. The advance of the former was slow, limited by the sluggish pace of his cattle ; the last left behind him stubble-field and hedge-row, crag, and dark heath, all glittering with frost-rime in the broad November moonlight, at the rate of six miles an hour. And now the distant lowing of Morrison's cattle is heard; and now they are seen creeping like moles in size and slowness of motion on the broad face of the moor; and now he meets them—passes them, and stops their conductor. " May good betide us," said the Southlander Is this you, Robin M'Combicft, or your wraith !" ' * If is Robin Oig M'Combich," answered the Highlander, "and it is not.—But never mind that, put pe giving me the skenedhu." " What! you are for hack to the Highlands—The devil!—Have you selt all off before the fair ? This beats all for quick markets." " 1 have not sold-—I am not going north—May pe I will never go north again.—Give me pack my dirk, Hugh Morrison, or there wTill be words petween us." Indeed, Robin, 111 be better advised or I gie it back to you—it is a wanchancy weapon in a Higland man's hand, and I am thinking you will be about some barnsbreaking." "Prutt, thrtt ! let me hav£ my wea- �20 pon," said Robin Oig, impatiently. " Hooly and fairly," said his well-meaning friend, £( I'll tell you what \yill do better than these dirking doings—Ye ken Highlander and Lowlander, and Border-men, are a' ae man's bairns when you are over the Scots dyke. See the Eskdale callants, and fighting Charlie of Liddesdale, and the Lpckerby lads, and the four Dandies of Lustruther, and a wheen mair grey plaids, are coming up behind ;; and if you are wronged, there is a hand of a manly Morrison, We'll see you righted, if Carlisle and gtanwix baith took.ujp the feud." " To tell you the truth," said Robin Oig, desirous of eluding the suspicions of his friend, " I have enlisted with a party of the Black Watch, and must march off to-morrow morning.'1 Enlisted I Were you mad or drunk P—You must buy yourself off—I can lend vou twenty notes, and twenty to that, if the§ drove sell. ' " I thank you, thank ye, Hughie; but I go with good will the gate that I am going,,—so the dirk—the dirk !" " There it is for you then, since less wunna serve. But think on what I was saying.—Waes me, it will be sair news in the braes of Balquidder, that Robin Oig M'Combich should have run an ill. gate, and ta'en on." " I l l news in Balquidflei;, indeed !" echoed poor Robin; ''put Cot speed you, Hughie, and send you good marcats. Ye vvinna meet with Robin Oi<j again either at tryste or fair." So saying, he shook hastily the hand of his acquaintance, and set out in the direction from which he hadf advanced, with the spirit of his former pace. " There is something wrong with the jad/' muttered the Bforrison to himself; " but we will maybe see better into it the morn's morning." But long ere the morning dawned, the catastrophe of our tale had taken place/ It was two hours after the affray had happened, and it was totally forgotten by almost every one, when Robin Oig returned to Heskett's inn. The place was filled at once by various sorts of men. and with noises corresponding to their character. �21 There were the grave, low sounds of men engaged in busy traffic, with the laugh, the song, and the riotous jest of those who had nothing to do but to enjoy themselves. Among the last was Harry Wakefield, who amidst a grinning group of smock-frocks, hob-nailed shoes, and jolly English physiognomies, was trolling 5 forth the old ditty, " What though my name be Roger, Who drives the plough and cart—" when he was interrupted by a well-known voice, saying in a high and stern Voice, marked by the sharp Highland accent, " Harry Waakfelt—if you be a man, stand up ! * What is the matter ?—-what is, it ? 5 t h e guests * demanded of each other. " It is only a. d—d Scotsman," jsaid Fle^cebumpkin, who was by this time very drunk, " whom Harry Wakefield helped to his broth to-day, who is now come to havfe his tauld hail hett again." iC Harry Waakfelt,'1 repeated' the same ominous summons, " stand up, if you be a man'!" There is something in the tone of deep and concentrated passion, which attracts attention and imposes awe, even by the very sound. The guests shrunk back on every side, and gazed at the Highlander, as he stood in the middle of them, his brows bent, and his features rigid with resolution. " I will stand up With all my heart, Robin, my boy, but it shall be to shake hands' with you, and drink down all unkindness. It is not the fault of ^otir heart, man, that yoii don't know how to clench your hands." By this time he stood opposite to his antagonist; his open and unsuspecting look strangely contrasted with the stern purpose, which gleamed w d , dark, arid vindictive in the eyes of the Highlander. "'Trs not' thy fault, man, that, not having the luck to be an Englishman, thou canst not fight more than a school-girl." u I can light," answered Robin Oig sternly, btiii calmly, " and you shall know it. You, Harry Waakfelt, showed me to-day how the Saxon churls fight^—l show ou now how the Highland Dunniewassal fights." �22 He seconded the word with the action, and plunged the dagger, which he suddenly displayed, into the broad breast of the English yeoman, with such fatal certainty and force, that the hilt made a hollow sound against the breast-bone, and the double-edged point split the very heart of his victim. Henry Wakefield fell, and expired with a single groan. His assassin next seized the bailiff by the collar, and offered the bloody poinard to his throat, while dread and surprise rendered the man incapable of defence. " I t were very just to lay you beside him," he said, " but the blood of a base picK-thank shall never mix on my father's dirk with that of a brave man." As lie spoke, he cast the man from him with so much force that he fell on the floor, while Robin, with his other hand, threw the fatal weapon into the blazing turf-fire. " There," he said, " take me who likes— and let fire cleanse blood if it can." The pause of astonishment still continuing, Robin Oig asked for a peace-officer, and a constable having stepped out, he surrendered himself to his custody. " A bloody nights work you have made of it," said the constable. " Your own fault," said the Highlander. " Had you kept his hands off me twa hours since, he would have been now as well and merry as he was twa minutes since." " It must be sorely answered," said the peaceofficer. " Never you mind that—death pays all debts; it will pay that too." The horror of the bystanders began now to give way co indignation ; and the sight of a favourite companion murdered in the midst of them, the provocation being, in their opinion, so utterly inadequate to the excess of venr geance, might have induced them to kill the perpetrator of the deed even upon the very spot. The constable, however, did his duty on this occasion, and with the assistance of some of the more reasonable persons present, procured horses to guard the prisoner to Carlisle, to abide his doom at the next assizes. While the escort was preparing, the prisoner neither expressed the least in terest, nor attempted the slightest reply. �33 My story is nearly ended. The unfortunate Kig *ander stood his trial at Carlisle, and was sentenced death. He met his fate with great firmness, and acknowledged the justice of his sentence. But he repelled indignantly the observations of those who accused him of attacking an unarmed man. " I give a life for the life I took," he said, " and what can I do more ?* COUNTESS OF EXETER. 1 A no teller of stories ; but there is one belonging to M Burleigh House, of which I happen to know some of the particulars. The late Earl of Exeter had been divorced from his first wife, a woman of fashion, and of somewhat more gaiety of manners than " lords who love their ladies'1 like. He determined to seek out a second wife in an humbler sphere of life, and that it should be one who, having no knowledge of his rank, should love him for himself alone. For this purpose, he went and settled incognito, under the name of Mr Jones, at Hodnet, an obscure village in Shropshire. He made overtures to one or two damsels in the neighbourhood, but they were too knowing to be taken in by him. His manners were not boorish,—his mode of life was retired, —it was odd how he got his livelihood,—and at last he began to be taken for a highwayman. In this dilemma, he turned to Miss Hoggins, the eldest daughter of a small farmer at whose house he lodged. Miss Hoggins, it would seem, had not been used to romp with the clowns : there was something in the manners of their quiet but eccentric guest which she liked. As he found that he had inspired her with that land of regard which he wished for, he made honourable proposals to her, and at the end of some months they were married, without his etting her know who he was. They set off in a postchaise from her father's house, and travelled across the country. In this manner, they arrived at Stamford, and �24 passed through the town without stopping till they came to the entrance of Burleigh Park, which is on the outside of it. The gates flew open, the chaise entered, and drove down the long avenue of trees that leads up to the front of this fine old mansion. As they drew nearer to it, and she seemed a little surprised where they were going, he said, " Well, my dear, this is Burleigh House, it is the house I have promised to bring you to, and you are the countess of Exeter !"—It is said the shock of this discovery was too much for the young creature, and that she never recovered it.—It was a sensation worth dying for. The world we five in was worth making, hud it been only for this. I never wish to have been a lord, but when I think of this stoiy. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Woodcut 105: Title-page illustration of two sheep farmers leaning on staffs with a dog beside them. In the background is a flock of sheep and a mountain range. Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Stories of the Two Drovers, and Countess of Exeter. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9944808233505154">s0585b06</a> <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9934198863505154">s0587b39</a> Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. Countess of Exeter Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource [ca 1850?] per National Library of Scotland Extent The size or duration of the resource. 24 pages 16 cm Description An account of the resource 38 printed at the bottom of the title-page. Woodcut image on the title-page. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Is Referenced By A related resource that references, cites, or otherwise points to the described resource. <a title="National Library of Scotland" href="http://www.nls.uk/">National Library of Scotland&nbsp;</a> <a title="University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks" href="http://special.lib.gla.ac.uk/chapbooks/search/">University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks&nbsp;</a> Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/3311e577715da4f04fe8bbb210be16c0.jpg dd2bea426e456ca4d7ec47ba67459356 Omeka Image File The metadata element set that was included in the `files_images` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all image files. Bit Depth 8 Channels 3 Height 3355 Width 2057 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/eddad7899f58dd98a9d2d9ec4cb7f9e1.pdf b912cfd3d9b9fea431b9fcfb2df3df83 PDF Text Text STORIES THE TWO OF DROVERS. AND COUNTESS OF EXETER. G L A S G O W PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS, �; • , e > . V - , . . .. ! \ �THE TWO DROVERS. IT was the day after the Doune Fair when my story commences. It had been a brisk market, several dealers had attended from the northern and midland comities in England, and the English money had flown so merrily about as to gladden the hearts of the Highland farmers. Many large droves were about to set off for England, under the protection of their owners, or of the topsmen whom they employed in the tedious, laborious, and responsible office of driving the cattle for many hundred miles, from the market where they had been purchased, to the fields or farm-yards where they were to be fattened for the shambles. Of the number who left Doune in the morning, and with the purpose we have described, not a Glunamie of them all cocked his bonnet more briskly, or gartered his tartan hose under knee over a pair of more promising spioys (legs), than did Robin Oig M'Combieh, called familiarly Robin Oig, that is Young, or the Lesser, Robin. Though small of stature, as the epithet Oig implies, and not very strongly limbed, he was as light and alert as one of the deer of Ills mountains. He had an elasticity of step, which, in the course of a long march, made many a stout fellow envy him ; and . lie manner in which he busked his plaid, and adjusted his bonnet argued a consciousness that so smart a John Mighlandman. as himself would not pass unnoticed among the lowland lasses. The ruddy cheek, red lips, and white teeth, set off a countenance which had gained by exposure to the weather, a healthful and hardy rather than a rugged hue. If Robin Oig did not laugh, or even smile frequently, as indeed is not the practice ng his countrymen, his bright eyes usually gleamed �4 from under his bonnet with an expression of cheerfulness ready to be turned into mirth. The departure of Robin Oig was an incident in the little town, in and near which he-had many friends male and female. H e was a topping person in his way, transacting considerable business on his own behalf, and was intrusted by the best farmers in the Highlands, in preference to any other drover in that district. Many were the"words of gfatulation and good luck which were bestowTed on Robin Oig. The judges commended his drove, especially the best of them, which were Robin's own property. Some thrust out their snuff-mulls for the parting^pinch—others tendered the doch-an-dorrdch, or parting cup. All c r i e d — " Goodluck travel out w-ith you and come home with you.— Give you luck in the Saxon market-—brave notes in the leabliar-dhu, (black pocket-book,) and plenty of English gold in the sporran (pouch of goat-skin.)'' The bonny lasses made their adieus more modestly, and more than one, it was said, would have given her best broach to be certain that it was upon her that his eye last rested as he turned towards his road. Robin Oig had just given the preliminary " Moohoo 7" to urge forward the loiterers of the drove, when there was a cry behind him. 6i'„ Stay, Robin—bide a blink. Here is Janet of Tom ahourich—--auld Janet, your fathers sister." " P l a g u e on her, for an auld Highland witch and spaewife," said a farmer from the Carse of Stirling ; " she'll cast some of her cantrips on the cattle." 66 She canna do that," said another sapient of the same profession—" Robin Oig'is no the lad to leave any of them, without tying" Saint Mungo's knot on their tails, and that will put to her speed the best witch that ever flew over Dimayet upon a broomstick." It may not be indifferent to the reader to know, that the Highland cattle are peculiarly liable to be Uiiien, or infected, by spells and witchcraft, which judicious people guard against by knitting knots of peculiar com- �5 plexity on the the tuft of hair which terminates the animal's tail. But the old woman who was the object of the farmer^ suspicion seemed only busied about the drover, without'paying any attention to the flock. Robin, on the contrary, appeared rather impatient of her presence. <( What auld-world fancy," he said, f ' has brought you so early from the ingle-side this morning, Muhme ? I am sure I bid you good even, and had your God-speed, last night." " And left me more siller than the useless old woman will use till you come back again, bird of my bosom," said the sibyl. " But it is little I would care for the food that nourishes me, or the fire that warms me, or for God's blessed sun itself, if aught but weal should happen to the grandson of my father. So let me walk the deasil round you, that you may go safe out into the far foreign land, and come safe home;" Robin Oig stopped, half embarrassed, half laughing, and signing to those around that he only complied with the old woman to soothe her humour. In the meantime, she traced around him, with wavering steps, the propitiation, which some have thought has been derived from the Bruidical mythology. It consists, as is well known, in the person who makes the cleasil, walking three times round the person who is the object of the ceremony, taking care to move according to the course of the sun. A t once> however, she stopped short, and exclaimed, in a voice of alarm and horror, " Grandson of my father, there is blood on your hand !" C( Hush, for God's sake, aunt,1' said Robin Oig; " y o u will bring more trouble on yourself with this Talshataragh (second sight) than you will be able to get out of for many a day. 1 ' The old woman only repeated, with a ghastly look, " There is blood on your hand, and it is English blood. The blood of the Gael is richer and redder. Let us see—let u s — — " Ere Robin Oig 5 could prevent her, which, indeed, could only have been by positive violence,u so hasty and peremptory were her proceedings, she had drawn from his side the dirk which �6 lodged in the folds of his plaid, and held it lip, exclaiming, although the weapon gleamed clear and blight in the sun, " Blood, blood—Saxon blood again ! Robin Gig M'Combich, go not this day to England I''1 " x Prutt, trutt,'' "answered Robin Oig, c t that will never do neither— it -would be next thing to running the - cpmitry. For shame, Muhme—give me the dirk. You cannot tell by the colour the difference betwixt the blood of a black bullock and a white one, and you speak of knowing Saxon from Gaelic blood. All men have their blood from Adam, Muhme. Give me my shemdhv, and let me go on my road. I should have been hah' '' biig by, this time—Give me my dirk, Never will 1 give it to you," said itlie old woman-—" Never will X quit my hold on your plaid, unless you promise me not to wear that unhappy weapon.1' The women around him urged him also, saying few of his aunt's words fell to the ground; and ; as the Lowland farmers continued to look moodily on the scene, Robin Oig determined to close it at ajiy •sacrifice. " Well, then," said the young drover, giving the scabbard of the w7eapon to Hugh Morrison, you L o w landers care nothings for these freats. Keep my.-dn'k for me* I cannot/give it you, because it was my father's;. but your drove follows ours, and I am content it should; be in your keeping, not in mine.—Will this do, Muhme-H11 6(- It must," said the old woman-" that is, if the Lowdander is mad enough to c any the k n i f e * T h e strong wrestlandman laughed auaid. " Good wife," said he, i ( 1 am Hugh Morrison fiom Glenae, come of the Manly Morrisons of auld kmgsyne, that never took short weapon against a nam in their lives. And neither needed they: They iiu d their broadswords, and I have this bit supple (showing a formidable cudgel)—for dirking ower the board, I leave that to John Bighlandrnan, — Y e needna snort, * none of you Highlanders, and you in especial, Rob hi. I'll keep the bi| knife? if you are feared for the auld �7 «pae wife's tale, and give it back to you whenever you want it," Robin drove on his cattle/and waved farewell to all behind him. He was in the gi eater 'haste, because Ire expected to join at Falkirk a comrade and brother in profession, with whom he propose! to travel in comiiobin Gig's chosen friend was a young Englishman, Harry Wakefield by name, well known at every northern market, and in his way ap much famed and honoured as our Highland driver of "bullocks. He was nearly six feet high, gallantly formed to keep the rounds at Smithfield, or maintain the ring at a wrestling match; and -although he might have been overmatched, ferhaps, among the regular professors of the Fancy, y t as a chance customer, he was able to give a bellyful to any amateur of the pugilistic art, Doncaster races saw him in his glory, 'betting his guinea, and generally successfully^ nor was there a hiaiii fought in Yorkshire, the feeders being persons of celebnty, at which he was not to be seeii, if business permitted. But though a sprach lad, and fond of pleasure and its haunts, Harry Wakefield was steady, and riot the cautious Robin Org M'Combich }rimsell\ was more attentive- to the main chance. His holidays were holidays indeed ; but his days of work Were dedicated to steady and persevering labour. In countenance and temper, Wakefield was the model of Old England's merry yeomen, whose otothyard shafts, in so many hundred battles, asserted her superiority over the nations, and whose good sabres, in our own time,, are her cheapest and most assured defence. His mirth was readily excited ; fcr. strong in limb and constitution, arid fortunate in circumstances, he was disposed to be pleased with every thing about him ; and such difficulties as he might occasionally encounter, were, to a man of his energy, rather matter of amusement than serious annoyance. With all the merits of a sanguine temper, our young English drover was not without his defects, B e was �8 irascible, and sometimes to the verge of being quarrelsome ; and perhaps not the less inclined to bring his disputes to a pugilistic decision, because he found few antagonists able to stand up to him in the boxing^ ring. The pair of friends had traversed with their usual cordiality the grassy wilds of Liddesdale, and crossed the opposite part of Cumberland, emphatically called The Waste. In these solitary regions, the cattle under the charge of our drovers subsisted themselves cheaply, by picking their food as they went along the droveroad, f>r; sometimes by the tempting opportunity of a start *and owerloup, or invasion of the neighbouring pasture, where, an occasion presented itself. But now the scene changed before them ; they were descending towards a fertile and inclosed country, wdiere no such liberties could be taken writh impunity, or without a previous arrangement and bargain with the possessors of the ground. This was more especially the case, as a great northern fair was upon the eve of taking place, where both the Scotch and English drover expected t,o dispose of a part of their cattle, which it was desirable to produce in the market, rested and in good order. Fields were therefore difficult to be obtained, and only upon high terms. This necessity occasioned a temporary separation betwixt the two friends, who went to bargain, each as he could, for the separate accommodation of liis herd. Unhappily it chanced that both of them, j unknowm to each other, thought of bargaining for the ground they wanted on the property of a country gentleman of some fortune, whose estate lay in the neighbourhood. The English drover applied to the bailiff on the property, who was known to him. It chanced that the Cumbrian Squire, who had entertained some suspicions of his manager's honesty was taking occasional measures to ascertain how far they were well founded, and had desired that any inquiries about his inclosures, with a view to occupy them for a temporary purpose, should be referred to himself. As, however, M r Ireby �9 had gone the day before upon a journey of some miles1 distance to the northward, the bailiff chose , to consider the check upon his full powers as for the 'titan© removed, and concluded that he should best consult his masters interest, and perhaps his own, in making an agreement with Harry Wakefield. Meanwhile, ignorant of what his comrade was doing, Robin Oig, on his side, chanced to be overtaken by a well-looked smart little man upon a pony, most knowingly hogged and cropped, as was then the fashion, the rider wearing tight leather breeches, and long-necked bright spurs. This cavalier asked one or two pertinent questions about markets arid the price of stock. So Donald,^ seeing him a well-judging civil gentleman, took the freedom to ask him whether he could let' him know if there was any grass-land to be let in that neighbourhood, for the temporary accommodation of his drove. He could not have put the question to more willing ears. The gentleman of the juick•skifts Was the proprietor, with whose , any Wakefield had dealt, or was in the act £>f' Gelling. " T h o u art in good luck, my canny Scot," said M r Ireby, to have spoken to me, for I see thy cattle have done their day's work, and I have at my disposal the only field within three miles that is to be let in these parts." " The drove can pe gang two, three, four miles very pratty well indeed™" said the cautious Highlander ; put what would his honour pe axing for the beasts pe the head, if she was to tak the park for twa or three days ? " W e wont differ, Sawney, if you let me have six stots for winterers, in the way of reason," "' And which peasts would your honour pe for having "•W'liy—let me see—the two black—the dun one—yon doddy, him with the twisted horn—the brocket— How much by the head ? " A h , " said Robin, " your honour is a shudge-—a real shudge—I couldna have set. off the pest six peasts petter mysell, me that ken them as if they were my pairns, puir things.11 " Well, how much per head, Sawney," continued M r Ireby. " It was high markets at Doune and Falkirk," answered Robin. �10 And thus the conversation proceeded until they had agreed on the prix juste for the bullocks, the Squire throwing in the temporary accommodation of the inclosure for the cattle into the boot, and Robin making, as he thought a very good bargain, providing the grass was but tolerable. The Squire walked his<pony alongside of the drove, partly to show him the way, and see him put into'possession of the field, and partly to learn the latesjt ..news of the northern markets. They arrived at the field, and the pasture seemed excellent. But what was their surprise when they saw the bailiff quietly inducting the cattle of Harry Wakefield into the grassy Goshen which had just been assigned to tltfpse of Robin Gig M'Combich by the proprietor himself. Squire Ireby set spurs to his horse, dashed up to his servant, and learning what had passed between the parties, briefly informed the English drover that his bailiff had let the ground without his authority, and tlia^rlve wimii seek grass for his cattle wherever he woiikf, "siiftte^ie was to get none there. A t the same time he rebuked his servant severely for having transgressed his commands, and ordered him instantly to assist in ejecting the hungry and weary cattle of Harry Wakefield, which were just beginning to enjoy a meal of unusual plenty, and to introduce those of his comrade, whom the English drover now began to consider as a rival. The feelings which arose in Wakefield's mind would have induced him to resist M r Ireby's decision; but every Englishman has a tolerably accurate sense of law and justice, and John Fleecebumpkin, the bailiff, having acknowledged that he had exceeded his commission, Wakefield saw nothing else for it than to collect his hungry and disappointed charge, and drive them on to seek quarters elsewhere. Robin Oig saw what had happened with regret, and hastened to offer to his English friend to share with him the disputed possession. Rut V/akefiekTs pride was severely hurt, and he answered disdainfully, " Take it all, man—take it all �11 ^•never make two bites of a cherry—thou eanst talk over the gentry, and blear a plain man's eye—Out upon you, man—1 would not kiss any man's dirty latchets for leave to bake in his oven." Robin Oig, sorry but not surprised at his comrade's displeasure, hastened to entreat his friend to wait but an hour till he had gvne to the Squire's house to receive f, ay merit for the cattle he had sold, and he would come back and help him to drive the cattle into some convenient place of rest, and explain to him the whole mistake they had both of them fallen into. But the Eng> iMiman continued indignant: " Thou hast been selling, hast thou ? A y , ay—thou is a cunning lad for kenning the hours of bargaining. Go to the devil with thyself, tor I will ne'er see* thy fa use loon's visage again—thou should be asliamed to look me in the face." " I am ashanibd to look no mail in the face," said Robin Oij& something moved ; " and, moreover, I will look yop&ya the face this blessed day, if you will bide at the en down yonder.1' " Mayhap you had as well keep away/ 1 said his comrade; and turning his back on his former friend, he collected his unwilling associates, assisted by the bailiff, who took some real and some affected interest in seeing Wakefield accommodated. After spending some time in negotiating with more than one of the neighbouring farmers, who could not, oi would not afford the accommodation desired, Henry Wakefieli at last, and in his necessity, accomplished his point by means of the landlord of the alehouse at w hich Robin Oig and he had agreed to pass the night, when they first separated from each other. Mine host was content to let him turn his cattle on a piece of barren moor, at a price little less than the bailiff luyl asked for the disputed inciosufte and the wretchedness of the pasture, tis well as the price paid for it, Were set down as exaggerations of the breach of faith and friendship of his Scottish crony. This turn of Wakefield's passions was encouraged by the bailiff, (who had his own reasons for being' offended against poor Robin, as having �12 been the unwitting cause of his falling into disgrace with his master,) as well as by the innkeeper, and ,two or three chance guests, who soothed the drover in his resentment against his quondam associate,-—-some from the ancienc grudge against the Scots, which, when it exists anywhere is to be found lurking in the border counties, and some from the general love of mischief, which characterises mankind in all ranks of life, to the honour:Of Adam's children be it spoken. Good John Barleycorn also, who always heightens and exaggerates the prevailing passions, be they angry or kindly, was not wanting in his offices on this occasion; and confusion to false friends and hard masters, was pledged in more than one tankard. In the meanwhile M r Ireby found some amusement ih detaining the northern drover at his ancient hall. He caused a cold round of beef to be placed before the Scot fn the butler s pantry, together with a foaming tankard ^ r W n e - b r e w e d , and took pleasure in seeing the hearty which these unwonted edibles were discussed by Robin Dig M'Combich. The Squire himself lighting his pipe, compounded between his patrician dignity and his love of agricultural gossip, by walking up and down while he conversed with his guest. "1 passed another drove,11 said the Squire, " with one of your countrymen behind them— they were something less beasts than your drove, doddies most qf them—a big man was with them—none of your kilts though, but a decent pair of breeches—D'ye know who he may be P11 4 e Hout ay—that might, could, and would pe Hughie Morrison—I didna think he could hae peen sae weel up. He has made a day on us ; put his Argyleshires will have wearied shanks. H o w far was he pehind P1' " I think about six or seven miles,11 answered the Squire, " f o r I passed them at the Christenbury Craggy and I overtook you at the Hollan Bush. If his, beasts be| leg-weary, he will be maybe selling bargains.11 S£ N a , ' na, Hughie Morrison is no the man for pargains—-ye maun come to some Highland body like Robin Oig her- �13 sell for the like of these—put X maun pe wishing you goot night, and twenty of, them, let alane ane,, arid! I maun down to the Clachan to see if the lad Henry lyaakfelt is out of his iuuiidudgeons yet, , J The party at the alehouse were still in full talk, and the treachery of Robin Oig still the theme of conversation, when the supposed culprit entered the apartment. His arrival, as usually happens in such a case,' put an instant stop to the discussion of which he had furnished the subject, and he wTas received by the company assembled with that chilling silence, which, more than a thousand exclamations, tells an intruder that he is unwelcome. Surprised and offended, but not appalled fey the reception which he experienced, Robin entered with an undaunted, and even a haughty air, attempted no greeting as he saw he was received with none, and placed himself by the side of the lire, a little apart from a table, at which Harry Wakefield, the bailiff, and two or three other persons, were seated. The ample Cumbrian kitchen would have afforded plenty of room even for a larger separation. Robin, thus seated, proceeded to light his pipe, and call ibr a pint of twopenny. " W e have no twopence ale,'' answered. Ralph Heskett the landlord ; but as thou find'st thy own tobacco, it's like thou may'st find thine own liquor too—it's the wont of thy country) I wot." " Shame, good man,'' said the landlady, a blithe bustliug housewife, hastening herself to supply the guest with liquor—" Thou knowest well enow what the strange man wants, and it's thy trade To be civil, man. Thou shouldst know, that if the Scot likes a small pot, . he pays a sure penny." | Without taking any notice of this nuptial dialogue, the Highlander took the flagon in his hand, and ads dressing the company generally, drank the interesting toast of " Good markets," to the. party assembled. ? " The better that the wind blew fewer dealers from 4 the north,11; said one of the farmers, .".and fewer Highland runts to eat up the English meadows." " Saul of �14 my pody, put you are wrang there my friend/' answered Robin, with composure, 66 it is your fat Englishmen that eat up our Scots cattle, puir things." " I wish there was a summ-it to eat up their drovers," said another; " a plain Englishman canna make bread within a kenning of them, ,h " Or an honest servant keep his master's favour, but they will come sliding in between him and the sunshine," said the bailiff. If these pe jokes," said Robin Oig, with the same composure, " there is ower inony jokes upon one man." " It's no ioke, but downright earnest," said the bailiff. " Harkye, M r Robin Ogg, or whatever is your name, it's right we should tell you that we are all of one opinion, and that is, that you, M r Robin Ogg, have behaved to our friend M r Harry Wakefield here, like a raff and a blackguard." " i\Tae doubt, nae doubt, 1 ' answered Robin, with great composure " a n d you are a set of very feeling judges, for whose prams or pehaviour I wad not gie a pinch of sneeshing. If M r Harry Waalefelt kens where he is wranged, he kens where he may be righted." " H e speaks truth," said Wakefield, who had listened to what passed, divided between the offence which he had taken at Robin's late behaviour, and the revival of his habitual habits of friendship. He now rose, and went towards Robin, who got up from his seat as he approached, and held out his hand. " That's right, Harry—go it—serve him out," resounded on all sides—" tip him the nailer—show him the mill." " Hold your peace all of you, and b e — said Wakefield; and then addressing his comrade, he took him by the extended hand, with something alike of respect and defiance. " Robin,11 he said, " thou hast used me ill enough this day ; but if you mean like a frank fellow, to shake hands, arid take a tussel for love OP the sod, why I'll forgie the man, and we shall be better friends than ever." " And would it not pe petter to be cood frieiv's without more of the matter? 11 said Robin ; ** we will be much petter friendships with our panes hale than broken." �15 Harry Wakefield dropped the hand of his friend, or rather threw it from him. " I did not think I had been keeping company for three years with a coward.''' " Coward pelongs to none of my name,1' said Robin, whose eyes began to kindle, but keeping the command of his temper. " It was no coward's legs or hands, Harry Waakfelt, that drew you /out t)f the lord* of Frew, when you was drifting ower the plack rock, and every eel in the river expected his share of you. 1 ' " And that is true enough, too, 1 ' said the Englishman, struck by the appeal, " Adzooks I11 exclaimed the , bailiff— " sure Harry Wakefield, the nattiest lad at Wiifcson Tryste, Wooler Fair, Carlisle Sands, or Stagfhaw bank, is not going to show white feather ? A h , this comes of living so long with kilts and bonnets—men forget the use of their daddies.'1 " I may teach you, Master Fleecebumpkiii, that I have not lost the use of mine," said Wakefield, and then went on. " This will never do, Robin. W e must have a torn-op, or we shall be the talk of the country side. I'll be d d if I hurt thee—I'll put on the gloves gin thou like. Come, stand forward like a man. '' " To pe peaten like a .dog.," said Robin.; " is there any reason in that ? • If you think I have done you wrong, 111 go before e, though I neither know his law nor his A general cry of " N o , no,-—no law, no lawyer ! a bellyful and be friends," was echoed by the bystanders. " But,11 continued Robin, " if I am to fight, I have no'skill to fight like a jackanapes, with hands and nails," " How would you fight then said his antagonist: " though I am thinking it would be hard to bring you to the scratch anyhow." " I would fight with proadswoards, and sink point on the first blood drawn—-Tike a gentlemans." A loud shout of laughter followed the proposal, which indee d had rather escaped from poor Robin's swelling heart, than been the dictates of his sober judgment, " Gentleman, quotha.!;" was echoed on all sides, with �16 a shout of unextingnishable laughter: 6C a very pretty gentleman,, God wot—Canst get two swords for the gentleman to fight.with, RalphHeskett ?'J " No, but I can send to the armoury at Carlisle, and lend them two forks to be making shift with in the meantime;" " Tush, man," said another, " the bonny Scots come into the world with the blue bonnet on their heads, and dirk and pistol at their belt." Best send post/ 1 said M r Fleecebumpkin, "-to the Squire of Corby Castle, to ' come and stand second to the gentleman." In the midst of this torrent of general ridicule, the Highlander instinctively griped beneath the folds of his plaid. ** But it's better not," he said in his own language, " A hundred curses on the swine-eaters,-who know neither decency nor civility ! Make room, the pack of you," he said, advancing to the door. But.hife former friend interposed his sturdy bulk, and opposed his leaving the house; and w^en Robin Oig attempted to make his way by force, he hit him down on the floor, wTith as much ease as a boy bowls down a nine-pin. " A rirfg ! a ring ! " wras now shouted, until the dark rafters/'and the hams that hung on them, trembled again, and the Very platters 011 the Link clattered against each other. " Well done, Harry."-—" Give it him home, H a r r y . " — " Take care of him now—he sees his own blood !" Such were the exclamations, while the Highlander, starting from the ground, all his Coldness and caution lost in frantic rage, sprung at his antagonist with the fury, the activity, and the vindictive purpose/of ! an incensed tiger-cat. But when could rage encounter science and temper P Robin Oig again Went down in che unequal contest; and as the blow was necessarily SL severe one, he lay motionless on the floor of the Kitchen. The landlady ran to offer some aid, but Mr Fleecebumpkin would not permit her to approach. " Let him alone," he said, " he will come to within time/and come up to the scratch again. He has not got half his broth yet." " He has got all I mean to v �17 give-Mm, though/ 1 said his antagonist, whose heart began to , relent . towards his old associate ; " and I would rather by half give the rest to yourself, M r jF'. ecebumpkin, for you pretend to..know,a. thing; or two, and Robin had not art enough even to peel before setting to, .but fought with his plaid dangling about him.— Stand up, Robin, my man I all friends n o w ; and let me hear the man that will speak a word against you, or your country^ for your sake." Robim Oig was still under the dominion of his passion, and eager to renew the onset; but being withheld on the one side by the peace-making Dame Heskett, and on the other, aware that. Wrakefield no longer meant to renew the combat, his fury sunk into gloomy sullenness. " , p o m e , come, never grudge so much at it, man,\\ said the brave-spirited Englishman, with the placability of his country, " s h a k e hands, anc] we will better friends than, ever.." Friends I11: exclaimed Oig with strong emphasis-— " friends, !-~Kever. . tq yourself, Harry Waakfelt." " Then the curse q£ Cromwell on your proud Scots stomach, as ;the man says in the play, a>id you may do your worst and be.d— d ; for one man can say nothing more to another after a tussel, than that he is sorry for it." On these terms the frit3 ^sparted ; liobin Oig drew out, in, silence,; a piece of money, threw it on the. table, and then left the alehouse. .But turning at the door;, he shook his hand at Wakefield, pointing, with hisToie% g e r upwards, in a manner which might imply either a threat or a caution. He then disappeared in, the moonlight. Some words passed after his departure, between the bailiff, who piqued fyims.eJf on being a little of a bully, and Harry Wakefield, who with generous inconsistency, was now not indisposed . to begin a new combat in defence of Robin O k ' s reputation, " although he could not use his daddies like an Englishman, as it did not, come natural to him." But ,Dame Heskett prevented this second quarrel from coming to a head by her peremptory �8 interference. <( There should be no more fighting in her house,1' she said f " t h e r e had been too much already.— : And you, M r Wakefield, may live to learn," she added, " what it is to make a deadly enemy out of a good friend." " Fsha, dame! Robin Oig is an honest fellow, and will never keep malice." " 13o not trust to that—you do not know the dour temper of the Scotch, though you have dealt with them so often. I have a right to know them, my mother being a Scot." " And so is well seen in her daughter," said Ralph Heskett. This nuptial sarcasm gave the discourse another turn ; fresh customers entered the tap-room or kitchen, and others left it. The conversation turned on the expected markets, and the report of prices from the different parts of Scotland and England—treaties were commenced, and Harry Wakefield was lucky enough to find a chap for a part of his drove, and at a very considerable profit; an event of consequence more than sufficient to blot out all remembrances of the unpleasant scuffle in the earlier part of the day. But there remained one party from whose mind that recollection could not have been wiped away by possession of every head of cattle betwixt Esk and* Eden. This was Robin Oig M ' C o m b i c h . — " That I should have had no weapon,11 he said, and for the first time in my life !-—Blighted be the tongue that bids the Highlander part with the dirk—the dirk—ha ! the •English blood 1 — M y Mr,lnne's word—when did her word fall to the ground?" The recollection of the fatal prophecy confirmed the deadly- intention which instantly sprang up in his mind. " Ha ! Morrison cannot be many miles behind ; and if it were an hundred, what then ! " His impetuous spirit had now a fixed purpose and motive of action, and he turned the light foot of his country towards the wilds, through which he knew, by M r Ireby's report, that Morrison was advancing. His mind was wholly engrossed by the sense of injury—in- �19 jury sustained from a friend ; and by the desire of vengeance on one whombhe now accounted his most bitter enemy. The treasured ideas of self-importance and self-opinion-—iof ideal birth and quality, had become more precious to. him, (like the hoard to the miser,) because he could only enjoy them hi secret. Hut that hoard •was pillaged, the idols which he had secretly worshipped had been desecrated and profaned. Insulted, abused, -and beaten, he was no longer worthy, in his own opinion, of the name he bore, cr the lineage which he belonged to—nothing was left to him—nothing but revenge 5 and, as the reflection added a galling spur to every *stop, he determined it should be as sudden and signal as the offence. When Robin Gig left the door of the alehouse, seven or eight-English miles at least lay betwixt Morrison and him. The advance of the former was slow, limited by the sluggish pace of his cattle ,.; the last left behind him stubbie-ntield and hedge-row, crag, and dark heath, all glittering 'with frost-rime in the broad November moonlight, at. the rate of six miles an hour. And now the distant lowing of Morrison's cattle Is heard ; and now they are seen creeping like moles in size and slowness of motion on the broad face of the moor ; -and now he meets them—passes them, and stops their conductor. " M a y good betide us,"^said the 8ou t blander Is this you, Robin M'Combich, or your wraith ! " " It is Robin Gig M'Combieh, , V answered the Highlander, " and it is not.—But. never mind that, put pe .giving me the skenedhu." " What ! you are for back to the Highlands—The devil!—Have you. selt all oft7 before the fair ? This beats all for quick markets." " I have not sold—I am not going north—May pe I will never go north again.—Give me pack my dirk, Hugh Morrison, or there will be words pet ween us." " Indeed, Robin, P11 be better advised or I gie it back to you—it is a wanchancy weapon in a Higlandman5s hand, and I am thinking you will be about some barnsbreaking, ? " P r u t t , trutt ! let me have my wea- �20 pon," said Robin Oig, impatiently. " H o o l y and fairly," said his well-meaning friendly " I'll tell you what will do better than these dirking doings—Ye ken Highlander and Lowlander, and Border-men, are a' ae man's bairns when you are over the Scots dyke. See the Eskdale callants, and fighting Charlie of Liddesdale, and the Lockerby lads, and the four Dandies of L u struther, and a wheen mair grey plaids, are coming up behind ; and if you are wranged, there is a, hand of a manly Morrison, we'll see you righted, if Carlisle and Stanwixbaith took up the feud." " T o tell you the truth," said Robin Oig, desirous of eluding the suspicions of his friend, " I have enlisted with a party of the Black Watch, and must inarch off to-morrow morning.'• Enlisted ! Were you mad or drunk P—You must buy yourself off—I can lend you twenty notes, and twenty to that, if the drove sell.'1 " I thank you, thank ye, Hnghie ; but I go with good will the gate that .1 am going,—-so the dirk—the dirk ! " " There it is for you then, since less wunna serve. But think on what 1 was saying.'—Waes me, it will be sair news in the braes of Bakpiidder, that Robin Oig M'Combich should have run an ill gate, arid ta en on." " I l l news in Balquidder, indeed ! " echoed poor Robin; " p u t Cot speed you, Hughie, and send you good marcats. Ye winna meet with Robin Oig again either at trysfe or fair." So saying, he shook hastily the hand of his acquaintance, and set out in the direction from wThich he had advanced, with the spirit of his former pace. " There is something wrang with the lad," muttered the Morrison to himself; " but we will maybe see better into it the morn's morning." But long ere the morning dawned, the catastrophe of our tale had taken place. It was two hours after the affray had happened, and it Was totally forgotten by almost every one, when Robin Oig returned to lieskett's inn. The place was filled at once by various sorts of men, and with noises corresponding to their character. �21 There were the grave, low sounds of men engaged in busy traffic, with the laugh, the song, and the riotous jest'of those who had nothing to do but to enjoy themselves.' Among the last was Harry Wakefield, who amidst a grinning group of smock-frocks, hob-nailed shoes, and jolly English physiognomies, was trolling forth the old ditty, ".What though my name be Roger, Who drives the plough and cart—" when he was interrupted by a well-known voice, saying in a high and stern voice, marked by the sharp . Highland accent, " Harry Waakfelt—if you be a man, stand up I"' W h a t is the matter ? — w h a t is it ? " the guests demanded of each, other. ££ It is only a d—-cl Scotsman," said Meecebumpkin, who was by this time very d r u n k , w h o m Harry Wakefield .helped to his broth to-day, who is now come to have his..cauld hail he it again. " " Harry. Waakfelt, 11 repeated the sameormnqusv suhunons, ( e stand up, if you be a man! 5 '. There is something in the tone of deep and concentrated passion, which attracts attention and impose^ awe, even by the very sound. The guests shrunk back on every side, and gazed at the Highlander,, as he stood in the middle of them, his brqws bent, and his features rigid'with resolution. " I will stand up. ; with all my heart, Robin, my boy, but it .shall be .to shake hands with you, and drink down all unkindness. It is not the fault of your heart, man, that you don't know how to clench your hands." B y , this time he stood opposite to his a n t a g o n i s t h i s open and unsuspecting look strangely contrasted with the stem purpose, which gleamed wild, dark, and, vindictive in the eyes of the Highlander. " 'Tis not thy fault, man? that, not having the luck to be an English-? man, thou canst not fight more than a school-girl. 1 ' i ( I can,fight,'1 answered Robin p i g sternly, but calmly, " and you shall know it. . You, Harry Waakfelt? showed me to-day how the Saxon churls fight—I show you nowT how the Highland Dunniewassal fights/' �22 He seconded (he word with the action, and plunged the dagger, which he suddenly displayed, into the broad breast of the English yeoman, with such fatal certainty arid force, that the hilt made a hollow sound against the breast-bone, and the double-edged point split the very heart of his victim. Henry Wakefield fell, and expired with a single groan. His assassin next seized thebaiiiil by the collar, and offered the bloody poinard to his throat, while dread and surprise rendered the man incapable of defence. " It were very just to lay you beside him," he said, " but the blood of a base pick-thank shall never mix on my father's dirk with that of,a brave man." As he spoke, lie cast the man from him with so much force that he fell on the floor, while Robin, with his other hand, threw the fatal weapon into the blazing turf-lire. " There,'"' he said, " take me who likes— and let fire cleanse blood if it can." out, he surrendered himself to his custody. " A bloody t's work you have made of it, 1 ' said the constable, our own fault," said the Highlander. " Had you kept his hands off me twa hours since, he would have been now as well and merry as he was twa minutes since." " It must be sorely answered," said the peaceofficer. " Never you mind that—-death pays all debts ; it will pay that too." The horror of the bystanders began now to give way to indignation ; and the sight of a favourite companion murdered in the midst of them, the provocation being, in their opinion, so utterly inadequate to the excess of vengeance, might have induced them to kill the perpetrator of the deed even upon the very spot. The constable, however, did his duty on this occasion, and with the as sistance of some of the more reasonable persons present, procured horses to guard the prisoner to Carlisle, to abide his doom at the next assizes. While the escort was preparing, the prisoner neither expressed the least interest^ nor attempted tin: ' 'reply. �23 M y story is nearly ended. The unfortunate Highlander stood his trial at Carlisle, and was sentenced to death. He met his fate with great firmness, and acknowledged the justice of his sentence. But he repelled indignantly the observations of those who accused him of attacking an unarmed man. " I give a life for the life I took," he said, " and what can I do more ? " COUNTESS OF EXETER. I AM no teller of stories ; but there is one belonging to Burleigh House, of which I happen to know some of the particulars. The late Earl of Exeter had been divorced from his first wife, a woman of fashion, and of somewhat more gaiety of manners than " lords who love their ladies" like. He determined to seek out. a second wife in an humbler sphere of life, and that it should be one who, having no knowledge of his rank, should love him for himself alone. For this purpose, he went and settled incognito, under the name of M r Jones, at Hodnet, an obscure village in Shropshire. He made overtures to one or two damsel's in the neighbourhood, but they were too knowing to be taken in by him. His manners were not boorish,—his mode of life was retired, —it was odd how he got his livelihood,—and at last he began to be taken for a highw7ayman. In this dilemma, he turned to Miss Hoggins, the eiclest daughter, of a small farmer at wThose house he lodged. Miss Hogg'ns, it would seem, had not been used to romp with the clowns : there was something in the manners of th^Ir quiet but eccentric guest which she liked. As he four d that he had inspired her with that kind of regard whi<h he wished for, he made honourable proposals to her, and at the end of some months they wTere married, without his etting her know who he was. They set off in a postchaise from her fathers house, and travelled across the country. In this manner, they arrived at Stamford, and �passed through the town without stopping till they came to the entrance of Burleigh Park, which is on the outside of it. The gates,.flew open, the chaise -entered, and drove down the long .avenue of trees that leads up to the front of this fine old mansion. As they drew nearer to it, and she seemed a little surprised where they were going, he said, " Well, my dear, this is Burleigh House: it is the house J have promised to bring you to, and you are the countess of Exeter ! " — I t is said the shock 01 this discovery was too much for the young creature, and that she never recovered i t . — I t was a sensation worth dying, for. The world we live in was worth making, had it been only for this. I never wish to have been a lord, but when I think of this: story. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Woodcut 105: Title-page illustration of two sheep farmers leaning on staffs with a dog beside them. In the background is a flock of sheep and a mountain range. Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Stories of the Two Drovers, and Countess of Exeter. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9934198863505154">s0587b39</a> Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. The Two Drovers Countess of Exeter Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource [1850?] per National Library of Scotland Extent The size or duration of the resource. 24 pages 16 cm Description An account of the resource Woodcut image of two shepherds with their sheep on the title-page. Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Exeter, England Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Is Referenced By A related resource that references, cites, or otherwise points to the described resource. <a title="National Library of Scotland" href="http://www.nls.uk/">National Library of Scotland</a> <a title="University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks" href="http://special.lib.gla.ac.uk/chapbooks/search/">University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks</a> Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/a25c49f0a4bdd987493999de659a95f2.pdf 1fa707fa35be8233266db9b4ea486b17 PDF Text Text STORY OF THE BITTER WEDDING. GLASGOW: PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS. ��THE BITTER WEDDING. O ne fine summer morning—it was many hundred years ago—young Berthold set out with a very heavy heart from his Alpine hut, with a view of reaching in the evening the beautiful valley o f Siebenthal, where stood his native village, and where he designed to be an unknown and silent guest at the dancig n and festivity o f certain merry maker’s. ' Ah, heavens,’ sighed he, ' it will be a bitter wedding! Had I died last spring it had been better with me now.’ ' Fiddle faddle!’ exclaimed a snarling voice from the road side. ' Fiddle faddle ! Where master Almerich touches his strings, there goes it merrily— there is the hurly burly, dirling the bottoms out of the tubs and pitchers ! Good morning, my child ! Come, cheer up my hearty, and let us trudge on together in good neighbourship.’ The young herdsman had stopped when he heard such a frog-croak of a voice, and now he could not speak for laughing. A n odd-looking dwarfish figure mounted upon �4 one leg and a half, and propped upon a crutch, with a nose as long as one’s thumb, came hobbling up quite out of breath, and making half-a-dozen wry faces, from a foot path on the left side of the road. Behind him he trailed an enormous fiddle, on which lay a large wallet— appurtenances which s eemed to be attached - to such a little odd figure by way of ballast, lest the rush of the wind down the valley should sweep it away. ‘ Good, morning !’ Berthold at last roared out, you are a merry fellow, Maste ' fiddler, and will prove heart’s ease to me d o t ay. In spite o f my misfortunes I could not help laughing a t the sight of you and your hugeous fiddle. Pray take it not am iss; a laugh has been a rare thing with me for many a day.’ ' H as it indeed,’ rejoined the dwarf ; ' and yet so y ou n g! Perhaps you are heart-sick, my son ?’ ' Y es, i f you choose to call it so,’ replied the herdsman, ‘ H ere in our mountains and valleys, you will find a great many clouts of fellows, who will be fanc ying themselves in love, while they are all the time eating, drinking, and sleeping, as sound as any marmot, and in one year s time can as easily pass from M argaret to Rosomund, as I from this town to the other. That is all a mocke; r y I would much rather die than forget �5 Siegeland,—though for me all rest and joy are for ever vanished.’ ‘ Aye, aye,’ replied Master Almerich, ‘ I thought you were going to the dance, my hearty,— I heard you crying out a bitter wedding, and I thought to myself, ‘ Aha, he does not get the right one,’ ‘ And that’s true enough,’ replied t r ehold; ‘ he does not get the right one,— that B Hildebrand! I will tell you the whole matter, Master Almerich, as you seem to be going the same way, if I guess right,’ ‘ Ah, yes, good heavens!’ sighed the dwarf: ‘ surely, surely, I would be going to the wedding, if I had only got a pair of stout legs, but look you here, my dear child, what a miserable stump is this for crawling down the mountain !— I am asthmatic too, and my goitre has been enlarging these last fifty years,—and that wallet has galled my back sore all yesterday in climbing over the rough hills— Heaven knows when I shall get to . the wedding! There was such a talking about it on the other side of the mountain, that, thought I to myself, I will away to the wedding also and make some money ; so I took my fiddle and began to crawl up the ascent,:—yesterday I became quite h x e austed—and now I must lay me down here by the side of the road and submit to fate. Tell me all about the wedding when you �6 eurn, child—if the wolves have not swallowed t r or hunger killed me before that time.’ With these words the dwarf, apparently exhausted, sunk down with a deep and a l encholy sigh on the nearest stone, threw his m bundle on the grass, and stretched out his bony hand as if to take a last farewell o f young Berthold, who stood leaning upon his staff, and gazin g upon the fiddler, quite nble to comprehend what ailed him. a u ' M aster,’ began the herdsman, ' how drooping! You have left all your g ay spirits at home! Although it is a weary journey for me as well as you, I will yet endeavour to carry your wallet and fiddle, so I may enjoy your company on the road. You must really hear what presses upon my soul,—perhaps I may obtain some relief in speaking it out, and you will have some pithy word of comfort for me. The dwarf accepted the kind offer and quickly transferred his wallet and fiddle to the stout shoulders of the herdsman; then taking his crutch, he whistled a merry tune, and trudged gaily on by the side of Berthold. I ‘ t is a long story, this wedding,’ begun the herdsman; b ‘ ut I will be as b possible, for it still grieves me to the heart when I think about it, and whoever can understand it at all, understands it soon; as for me my sufferings will never be at an �7 end, though I should talk the whole day about it. ' In the village there, below us, old Bernhard has a pretty sweet girl of a daughter, Siegelind ; he has lived for many years, and his wife Gertrude with him, in a nice little Cottage by the stream, where the road strikes off into the wood. Their trade is to make wooden spoons for the herdsmen, by which, and the help of a goat and a couple of sheep, they gain their livelihood.’ ' L ast winter, having got some ashen spoons and cups nicely cut, I thought with myself, now, as my father is getting old, and sends me with the cattle to the mountains in spring, if I only behave there as becomes a herdsman, what is there to prevent me coming down in autumn and marrying Siegelind ? ' Ah, Master Almerich, my words do poor justice to my heart; my feelings always get the start of them , and reason comes limping after! ' I beheld Siegelind, you see, moving actively about,— wearing a merry face late and early,— -all goodness and discretion froth top to toe, and pretty too,— overflowing with g a y spirits and merry songs without number: all this my eye, my ear, and my heart drun in smoothly,— -she was satisfied, and the people too,— in summer I was to g o to so �8 mountains, and at harvest-home to the d e wing, and in the meantime she gave me this waistcoat to wear on the hills in b m e r rance of her. , ‘ Old Bernhard went to the forest in spring to choose the finest stems, and to provide us with nice furniture against the wedding. ' So one morning as he was ascending the mountains through those ravines where there are some marvellously fine trees, a little man, in an odd sort of dress, hastened to meet him, screaming violently and beckoning and callig n him so earnestly that he could not but go with him. They soon reached a barn, where he found the stranger’s wife lying sick and in extremity. Her he relieved and cured; but for me—bride, peace, and happin e s , were lost from that hour.’ A ' h, good heavens!’ exclaimed Almerich; ' you are talking bravely, whilst I am almost starving—hop, hop, hop— we are trudging on, and my stomach is as empty as a bag-pipe ! Yesterday evening— t ohing ; this morning-— n nothing ! Oh that brave wedding-dance; the fiddle runs off, and Master Almerich is starving here!’ ' Now, now, the deuce, then,’ bawled the herdsman, ' what have you got in this cursed wallet ? Here am I toiling on with this plagued bag , rubbing the very skin off my shoulders, —if there is not at least a little ham �9 and cheese and fresh bread in it,w h y should I be smothered under such a bundle of rags.' ' Softly, softly, my son, ’ replied t h e fiddler, ' there are treasures in that wallet, an old barret cap of Siegefried, and an old sword belt of Dieterich, and a couple of old leathern soles o f Ylsan, child!— These are no every-day concerns, my hearty ! They are all estimable jewels to him who s r e d n utands the thing ; they are worth a whole mountain of sweet wine; and seven acres of thick golden wheat, to him who knows their value.’ ' It may he so,’ said the herdsman, ' I only wish we had a few cups of milk in the place of your treasures; but if it is so with your stomach, my good master, look you, here is a mouthful of g oatmilk cheese, I meant to serve me for the night, but never mind, I am little disposed to eat.’ Berthold now produced his provisions, and Almerich devoured them as greedily as if he meant to swallow the herdsman after them by way of dessert. He then wiped his mouth, leaped briskly up, was again in good spirits, and stamped away before th e herdsman as freshly as if nothing had ailed him. All this, however, seemed very odd to Berthold, and when he again felt the annoyance of the wallet, he drew a sigh so deep that it echoed back from the neighbouring rocks. �10 ‘ L ack a d a y !’ cried Almerich again, ' the poor lad has lost his bride and his peace o f heart; I have been so concerned about him that I could not eat a bit ?' ' T hat fellow could devour the Stackhorn ! thought Berthold with some indignation. ' The club foot is not in his right senses, I believe!’ ' It was really to bad,’ began he, resumig n his story. ' The dwarf in the barn returned a profusion of thanks to old h n ard, and said, ' I am a foreign miner, r e B and have lost the road with my good wife ; so I have nothing to reward you for your kind services, save a little bit of cheese and a few draughts of wine, take that, and m e ember the poor fellow who gave you what r he could, and will pray that Heaven may reward you farther,’ ' Old Bernhard accepted the little bottle and a piece o f cheese only to get rid of the importunity of the dwarf, who would take no refusal. Towards noon, he was proceeding to his village; the road was long, and feeling fatigued, he laydown in the shade o f a tree, took out the gift of the dwarf, and began to eat and drink. Meanwhile, who should my evil stars bring in his way but young Hildebrand, the most miserly fellow in the v illage! ' God bless you, father Bernhard!’ �11 — ' Thank you ray son.’ Thus the v n o c ersation proceeded, The niggard sees the old man comfortably enjoying his repast; so he sets himself down beside him and takes a share. There they eat and eat for about an hour,— but the wine never gets less, and the cheese is never done, and both behold the miracle till their hair stands on end. ‘ All was now over, Master fiddler, and poor Berthold was undone! H ' ildebrand chose words which went down with Bernhard as smoothly as honey, and the long and the short of the matter was, my dear sweet Siegelind was promised to the rich miser, with the marvellous cheese for her dowry. The old man was now quite beside himself,—the young man talked finely --they were to outdo the whole village, and keep their secret to themselves; I was called a miserable wretch, and the spirit of mischief just brought me into their way in time to hear the whole sad story.’ ‘ Ah, good heavens,’ exclaimed Almerich again, ' I am undone with cold; it is turnig n a chill rainy day, and my bones are so naked!— Hew, hew, how the storm blows into my very soul! This day will be the death of me.— I thought so before. Take your way, my son, I give you my fiddle in a present,—leave me the wallet here, I will stretch myself out to die upon it.’ �12 ' The mischief is in i t !’ grumbled B erthold. ' I f matters are to go on in this way, we shall be a year and a day hence still travelling this cursed road? H ark ye, old boy, you are an odd fellow! what tempted you to think of wandering through our rough country, without meat or drink or even a coat, but with a fiddle as large as a ton, and an empty wallet as heavy as seven three stone cheeses ! ’Tis a perfect tempting of Providence! W hy the deuce do you drag after you that ass’s burden of old rubbish, without so much as the convenience of a cloak in your bundle!’ ' It is all very true,’ sighed Almerich. ' I am not yet accustomed to be the lame, feeble man you now see me. Thirty years ago I could skip like a leveret over hills and dales; but now, farewell to friend Almerich, I shall never leave this place! However it is all one,—perish here, or die there, a dying bed is ever a hard one, even though it should be o f down and silk ?’ ' Now really,’ replied Berthold, ' you are too whimsical, fiddler ! The cold blast never hurts a tough fellow who is accustomed to run about the mountains,— there, slip into my coat, and walk smartly on, for a shower is approaching, and that rascally wallet is weighing me down to the ground.’ ‘ Patience, child, patience!’ said Almerich --- ' This coat is quite warm from your �13 shoulders,— I feel very comfortable in it,— slowly, gently, your story of the marvellous cheese and wine has restored me to warmth —how did the matter go on ?’ ‘ You rogue and rascal! ’ thought Berthold to himself, and thus continued his lamentable tale. ' How did it go on !— Gertrude sang to the same tune as her husband; Siegelind grew sad, and lost her bloom and strength; the old boy urged the matter, and Hildebrand too,— Bernhard was anxious to get the rich and proud son-in-law, and was in great fear lest the enchanted wine should soon dry up, —the young fellow had money in his eye, and wished to turn the bewitched cheese to usury,— thus the wedding was determined on, and I was left in sadness upon my mountn a i. I tried to forget it; I thought Siegelind could not have borne me in her heart, otherwise she would not, even to escape death and martyrdom, have married the red haired Hildebrand. L ast night, however, I could find neither rest nor sleep upon my straw, I must go and see her with my own eyes take that miser for her husband. Near the village I will wrap up my head and dye my hands and cheeks with berries, so that nobody will know me,—nor in the bustle of the wedding, when every thing is turning topsy turvy, will a living soul ,care for poor �14 Berthold. When all is over, I shall, so it please Heaven, become wise a g a in ; or if not, my poor brain will be turned altogether, and that will be a blessing too.’ ‘ M y good child,’ said the dwarf, ‘ you will get over all this. I perceive very well that it is a hard journey, and a bitter wedding too for y ou : but it is your good luck, my child, that you have me for a companion— I will fiddle till your heart leaps again ,— your sorrow grieves me as much as if it were my own.’ Whilst talking thus, a few drops of rain fell, which proved the prelude to a heavy shower; and although the travellers had r l aeady gone a considerable way, they were still far from the end of their journey, and gush after gush, the rain poured upon their heads till the water run down from their hats as from a spout. Berthold trudged silently on, sighing frequently and heavily under his burden,—he could have sworn that it increased a pound’s weight every step, nevertheless it was m i ossible for his good nature to think o f p i gng it back to the poor cripple in such a v pest. The rain soon began to trickle through m e t his waistcoat, and run in a cold stream down his back, he wished himself, the dwarf, and the wedding all far enough, but stalked sullenly on through the mud as if he had �15 been wading through the highest Alpine grass. The fiddler limped close behind him, croaking occasionally through his raven throat, an old spring song, which told of sunshine, and singing birds, and pleasure, and love. A t times he drew himself snugly together, and expatiated on the excellencies of the herdsman’s coat, which he declared was quite waterproof,— and then he would exhort Berthold to step leisurely, to pay particular attention to the wallet and fiddle, and above all not to overheat himself. The herdsman would have lost all patience and courage a thousand times over in draggin g his hundred weight of a load and playing the fool to the crazy fiddler, if he had not been ashamed to throw away the burden which he had volunteered to carry, and forsake the person whose company he had himself invited. But in his heart he vowed deeply and solemnly never again to lend his coat to a fiddler, nor give away his cheese, nor to carry a fiddle and wallet, and after all be mocked and laughed at by such an odd quiz of a fellow. ‘ I f ,’ thought he at last, ‘ the upshot of all this is a fever in the evening which carries me quickly off-— be it so,-— remains a bitter wedding!’ it After a few hours rain, the two pedestrians reached the valley, where a swollen and �16 rapid torrent, which had swept away every vestige of the little bridge that led to the village, with the exception of a single small plank, rushed across the path; the herdsm a n heeded not the narro footing, and was w stepping boldly across, when his companion began to roar out lustily about the dangers of the path : ' Fo r my life and soul I will not move from the spot! N either cat nor rah could pass over there,— I would be a dead man if I ventured on that cursed plank ! Let them fiddle yonder who can swim,— I wish I was in a feather bed with my fiddle for a pillow!’ ' Don’t make such a noise about i t !’ cried Berthold. ' I f we have got thus far, we will surely go on a little, farther,-— I have if brought the fiddler this length to the bitter dance, I will also bring him to the wedding house,—though I am a fool, I am neverthels e a good-natured one.’ With these words the herdsman took off the fiddle and wallet from his back , and supplied the place with the dwarf, whom he carried over as easily as a bundle of straw. He then returned for the fiddle, wallet, and crutch, which lay as heavy as so many stones upon his shoulders. ' Well, the best of it now is,’ said he, that we shall soon reach the village,— but either my head is turned, or that wallet is filled �17 with f esh and blood, ,and master Almerich’s l body is stuffed with chaff! ’ ' Nonsense! ' replied the fiddler with a broad grin, ' You have behaved well, child; it would be a great pity i f :the bride yonder would not g e t you ; you have the genuine patience of the lamb in you, yet I perceive you have also strength enough, with your heart in the right place, and as much wisdom as there is any need of in the country. Come, let us paint your cheeks, and put on the old cap you will find in my wallet, and the green waistcoat and get that belt about you; d o t ay you will be the fiddler’s boy, and not a liv in g creature know you.’ The fiddler opened his wallet and threw out its contents to Berthold, whose face he painted with cranberries, and beard and b y e rows with a bit of coal, and then they walked gaily on towards the village. Evening was just coming on, and the sun broke out all at once from under the clouds, — the birds -began to sing cheerfully,—the flowers, opened their leaves as if to listen, and Berthold felt his clothes sooner dried than if he had been sitting close to a large fire. In a few minutes our wanderers mingled with the merry wedding-guests; noises and merriment were echoing all around, and no one looked sad but Siegelind, who kept her �18 tearful eyes fixed upon the ground. The old fiddler was welcomed with shouts of applause ; for the rain had prevented the arrival of the band o f fiddlers and pipers who had been invited on the occasion, and every body thought it a piece o f marvellous good luck for the wedding that master Almerich should have got through. ' Now, children,’ exclaimed the old boy, ‘ fetch us something to drink, and some cheese and bread, and do not forget that youth who has dragged myself as well as my fiddle here to-day.’ The guests hastened to execute the old fiddler’s commands, and even Gertrude and Bernhard bustled about to serve him. Poor Berthold’s heart was bleeding, but he kept eating and drinking, that he might not be obliged to speak. Mean while the old fiddler put dry strings on his instrument, and began to tune it so stoutly that it thrilled through marrow and bone, and quickly drew the attention of all upon the musician.’ ‘ Bless me,’ whispered Bernhard to t r erude,’ ‘ upon my faith it is the very dwarf G who g a ve me the bewitched wine and cheese! Be gentle to him wife, and say not a single word.’ A ll at once the fiddle struck up so briskly that the very house shook with blow upon blow,—he commenced such a furious strain �19 that the whole company leaped up from their benches and began dancing as if they were mad. ‘ Heigh, heigh!’ shouted the people. ‘ There is a fiddle!’ and every one capered and whirled through the wedding chamber as if they danced for a wager. The young people led out the dance, and the old ones hobbled as fast after them as they could; and nobody stood idle but Siegelind:—who wished herself ten thousand miles away from the merriment—and Berthold, who gazed stedfastly and sorrowfully upon his beloved. In the midst of his fiddling, Master Almerich beckoned to the beautiful bride to step near him ; ‘ There stands a little bottle yonder where your bridegroom has been seated, and some old cheese with it,— I dare say it will not be the worst in the house,— I would taste a little of it,—this playing makes me a little nice in the palate.’ The good natured bride brought the bottle and cheese, and placed them on a chair beside him, knowing no reasonable objection to the old man’s taking as much as he could eat. The dwarf quickly laid his fiddle aside, raised the bewitched bottle in his right hand, and the cheese in his left, and exclaimed with a loud voice, W ' ell, my good peo well, here’s the health of that beautiful bride there and her sweetheart; may she live long and joyfully!’ �20 ' L o n g and joyfully!’ resounded through the room, while fifty bonnets and hats were tossed up into the air. But horror struck and deadly pale did Hildebrand and Bernhard a n d Gertrude become when they saw the wondrous wine and enchanted cheese in Almerich’s uplifted fist. ' Dares he—can he—will h e !’ darted through their hearts. But, woe and alas ! in one turn of his hand, the glutton with his large ox-mouth, had swallowed the bewitche d draught and marvellous cheese without leaving a morsel! A roar of passion from the red haired Hildebrand, and a gush of tears from Gertrude, now terrified the people: while old Bernhard stood like one petrified. But a cheerful smile lightened upon the counte­ nance of Siegelind, and Berthold rose boldly from his bench, and stood ready to use his fists upon Hildebrand if he should dare to touch the fiddler. Y ‘ ou rogu e! you b e g g a r!’ at last c x elaimed Hildebrand. Who told you to give that old fool of a fiddler that gift of heaven ? You may now toss your house and your bride too to the moon ; I no longer care a straw for you or all that l eongs to you !’ b With words o f venom and execration, Hildebrand rushed out of the room, whilst �21 the enraged Bernhard and his crowd of guests looked terrified after him. ' I am an undone man ! at last exclaimed Bernhard. ‘ M y child and we are all ruined! The wedding feast and the adornments are all unpaid! Oh cursed, horrid miser ! bring me a knife—a knife !’ A ' fig for a knife!’ exclaimed the fiddler. S ‘ ee here is the bridegroom just come, who has brought with him a whole wallet full of gold,—and the bride loves him with all her heart, and the guests are all together—and my fiddle is in glorious tune!’ With these words Almerich crippled w r o f ard to the half bewildered and yet joyful Berthold, and drew him into the circle: he then wiped the paint off his face with the skirts of his coat, and showed to the delighted bride and the astonished guests their well known neighbour, who was dear and c l eome to all. He then ordered the wallet to w be dragged forward, and having opened the lock, behold a prodigious quantity of pure red gold tumbled out from it, dazzling the eyes of all with its splendour! Old Bernhard and Gertrude embraced Berthold with tears of repentance, and Berthold by turns b m e raced the lovely Siegelind and the ugly dwarf. Almerich took his fiddle and struck up a tune which bewitched them all, and they danced till midnight in joy and glory. The �22 musician then escaped, and le ft a whole house fu ll o f m erry-m akers around the two happy! lovers, who, till their last d a y, a thousand times blessed the bitter w edding in which they had been so w onderfully united by the benevolent lam e dwarf. �23 H IP P S L E Y ’ S D R U N K E N M A N . H ere Betty you jade ! bring me a pint of half-and-half— sure you mix them— and -be put them in separate ju gs. B e tty ! hang that girl—she goes up stairs twenty times a-day, and never comes down again. f n oound the back of this chair, it is always C behind. Well, I have given my wife the slip at la s t : A h ! she is quite a domestic christian— she knocks off the heels of her shoes on a saturday-night to prevent her i o gng to church on the Sunday.— She’s quite a pious woman— whenever I conceal my money, I always put it in the bible, I am sure my wife will never go there to look for it. I have the finest set o f children a man would wish to stick a knife into. There’s my son Jam es—he will be a counsel or a bishop, I am certain, he is so wise :— His mother sent him on an errand; turning the corner of a street, he met a lawyer full plump, which knocked him down—the poor boy has never spoke a word of truth ever since. There’s my daughter P e g —she certainly will be a queen one day or other-—she’s so cute:— The other day her mother was ironing the clothes; the iron was red hot; she, like a wise child took hold of it to help her mother—and what do you think ? she let it drop in a moment. �24 There’s my daughter Sukey, she beyo doubt will be an empress some day I ’m sure, she’s so wonderfully wise :— The Parson or the parish sent a pair of black stocking's to be darned; and to show the child’s wisdom —she darned them with white worsted, and sent the Parson hopping- to church like a magpie. [Takes upa _— Constantinople— One thousand seven hundred— and fast asleep. This evening the Pope was brought to-bed of a pair of twins: what was wonderful, they were booted and spurred, with whips in their hands. This evening, an empty chaise passed this town with a lawyer fast asleep in it. Thursd a y morning at three o’clock in the afternoon, a fire broke out in an empty house and quite consumed the furniture. A poor man fell from a garret window into the street— -very fortunately he had a flannel nightcap on, which saved his brains from being, knocked out. Here B etty! tell my wife to go to a joiner and purchase a wooden grate— I know she is a sensible -woman and very careful— for I think, when the fire is in it, it will be all in a blaze. Here Betty, Betty ! � https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/323191b78cbd667518312e4ff03c1099.jpg f8edeef316f68a96122eca35fcf02b9d Omeka Image File The metadata element set that was included in the `files_images` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all image files. Bit Depth 8 Channels 3 Height 3251 Width 1814 Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Story of the Bitter Wedding. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9934220843505154">s0598b11</a> Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. Hippsley's drunken man. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource [1840-1850?] per National Library of Scotland Extent The size or duration of the resource. 24 pages 16 cm Description An account of the resource Woodcut image of three people outside with a table on the title-page, and a woodcut image of two people at the base of a tree and a man hanging by his arms from a branch on page 22. Is Referenced By A related resource that references, cites, or otherwise points to the described resource. <a title="National Library of Scotland" href="http://www.nls.uk/">National Library of Scotland&nbsp;</a> Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers # of Woodcuts: 2 Bib Context: title-page Chapbook Date: 1841-1850 Chapbook Genre: fairytale/folk tale Chapbook Publisher - Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Furniture: table(s) Gender: man/men Gender: woman/women Nature: tree(s) https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/cb7da2b1cb97afcd341c523e895e8684.jpg 253d8cc320121e956d2664e16c3c8b02 Omeka Image File The metadata element set that was included in the `files_images` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all image files. Bit Depth 8 Channels 3 Height 3326 Width 1900 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/22294dc4734fd256d61175a410f4fb6a.pdf e51e7b730b79ec990e598614f469f43b PDF Text Text ��STORY OF PRINCE LUPIN AND THE WHITE CAT. —«=»e@IOI©e<=*— A CERTAIN king had three sons, all handsome, brave, and fine young gentlemen; but being suspicious that they had formed a design to deprive him of his crown, he thought of a method to divert them from their intended purpose. Having called them one day into his closet, he spoke to them as follows : — u My sons, I am now come to a great age, and cannot apply myself to public affairs with so much care as formerly; therefore I intend to resign my crown to one of you: but, as it is but right to require some proof of your abilities, in order to determine which is the most worthy of so valuable a present, I propose and promise, that he who shall bring me the most beautiful little dog shall immediately take possession of my throne." �4 The three princes readily agreed to this proposal, each concluding himself most likely to succeed in fulfilling this extraordinary request. After taking leave of the king they set out, with orders to return that day twelvemonth with dogs. Each took a different road, without any attendants; but we shall leave the two eldest at present, and confine our story to the youngest. This accomplished prince, as he was more desirous to show his duty to his father than to become a king, was more fortunate in his undertaking than either of the others. One night, having travelled till it was very late, and being overtaken by a storm in a large forest, he discovered a light at a distance, and, pursuing his journey with all speed, he arrived at a most stately castle, the gates of which were of massy gold, and the walls of fine china, whereon were painted the histories of all the fairies that ever appeared on earth. A t the door hung a chain of diamonds, with a deer's foot at the end; on pulling which, the prince heard a bell of so pleasing a sound, that he concluded it to be made of gold or silver. Immediately the door opened, and twelve hands, each holding a flambeau, gently conducted him into a haD of motherof-pearl, and from thence through a vast variety of chambers, all richly covered with paintings and jewels. The beauty �5 of these ornaments was greatly heightened by a number of lights, that hung* from the ceiling in glass sconces of exquisite workmanship. After having passed through sixty apartments, a fine easy chair moved towards him of its own accord; the fire lighted itself, and the hands pulled off his clothes, which had been drenched in the storm, and dressed him in others so extraordinarily fine and rich, that it dazzled his sight to behold himself. While the prince was in the utmost astonishment at this uncommon adventure, he saw a multitude of cats enter the room, and seat themselves on the bench. One held a music-book, and some played on instruments, while others beat time. In the midst of this concert, a small figure came forward in a mourning veil, led by two cats in black cloaks, and followed by a long train of cats, some with rats, and others with mice, in their mouths. The young prince was so surprised, that he had not power to move; when the little figure, lifting up its veil, discovered the prettiest white cat that ever was seen. " Prince," said she, " b e not afraid, but give me your company with cheerfulness. It shall be the ambition of me and all my mewing attendants to give you pleasure." On a signal given, supper was brought in; but the prince at first declined eating, �till tho White Cat, guessing the reason, assured him that there were no rats nor mice in any thing that was set before him. As the prince was admiring this beautiful cat, he observed a small picture hanging upon her foot. He asked her to show it him; and how great was his surprise to see a charming young man very much resembling himself! yet, observing the White Cat to sigh, he was afraid at that time to satisfy his curiosity concerning it, and so endeavoured to divert her by entertaining conversation, in which he found her to be extremely sensible, and acquainted with every thing that passed in the world. He slept every night in an apartment hung with tapestry made of the wings of butterflies, on a bed of the most delicious flowers, and every day was spent in the most delightful amusement. In this manner almost a year slipped away insensibly; and the prince entirely forgot his native home and the little dog he was to carry to his father. But the White Cat knew when he was to return; and one day, as they were walking together in a grove near the palace, " Do you remember, prince," said she, " t h e promise you made your father? Your brothers have already procured some curious little dogs, and there remain but three days for you to find one more beautiful, or lose a kingdom." These �s words awoke the prince from his dream of pleasure. " Alas !" cried he, u what have I been doing ? My honour is lost for ever." — " D o not afflict yourself/' said the White Cat; " I will find a horse that will carry you home in less than twelve hours. And as for the little dog, take this acorn, in which there is one: put it to your ear, and you will hear it bark." The prince did so, and, transported with pleasure, thanked her a thousand times. Bidding her farewell, he mounted the wooden horse, and arrived at his father's palace just as his brothers entered the courtyard. He ran to embrace them, and all three went together to the king.— The two eldest presented their dogs, which were so equally beautiful, that it was impossible to know in whose favour to determine. But the youngest soon put an end to the debate; for, pulling the acorn out of his pocket and opening it, they saw a little dog lying on cotton, so small that it might go through a ring; it was of a mixtur of colours, and its ears reached the ground. The king was convinced that nothing coul d be met with so beautiful; but, being unwilling yet to part with his crown, he told 1 children, that he must make a further trial of their love and diligence before he performed his promise: they must take another �£ year to find out a web of cloth fine enough to go through the eye of a small needle. This request, though unjust, they thought it best to comply with: and our prince mounted his wooden horse, and returned with speed to his White Cat, on which alone he depended for assistance. He found her laid on a quilt of white satin. A s soon as she saw him, she expressed the utmost j o y ; while the prince caressed her in the most tender manner, and told her the success of his journey. The White Cat redoubled her efforts to render the prince more happy, if possible, than he had been before. He wished for nothing but the hands which brought it to him; and the second year rolled away so fast, that the prince would again have forgot his orders, had not the White Cat reminded him thereof; u But make yourself perfectly easy concerning the web," said she, u for I have one wonderfully fine. Take this walnut; be sure to crack it in your father's presence, and you will find in it such a web as you want." The prince thanked her in the most grateful manner; and was presently carried by the wooden horse to his father's palace, where his brothers had got before him. I They pulled out their webs, which were exceeding fine, and would go through the eye of a larro needle, but could not be made to �9 pass through the eye of a small one. The king was going to avail himself of this pretext, when the youngest prince unexpectedly entered, and produced a walnut, which he cracked. Finding only a kernel of wax, the king and all present ridiculed him for thinking to find a web of cloth in a nut. However, he broke the kernel, and saw in it a corn of wheat, and in that a grain of millet-seed: he then opened the millet-seed, and, to the utter astonishment and confusion of all the beholders, drew out a web of cloth four hundred yards long. The needle was brought, and the web was put through the eye of it five or six time? with the greatest ease. The king fetched a deep sigh, and turning towards his sons, " M y children," said he, " I am still desirous of putting you to a new trial: go for another year; and he that brings me the most beautiful damsel, shall marry her and be crowned king; and I swear most solemnly, that I will require no other proof of your filial affection and discretion." Our sweet prince heard this tyrannic command without a murmur; and, * remounting his courser, flew to his dear White Cat; which, knowing the moment of his return, was prepared to receive him in the golden gallery. u Prince," said she, "the king I find, has refused you the crown; �10 however, I hope you will take care to deserve it, and I will provide you with a beautiful damsel who will gain the prize." The prince grew more and more fond of her; and in her abode enjoyed every magnificent entertainment that fancy could invent.—When this last year was near expired, the White Cat thus addressed him, " I f you are sensible of the favours I have conferred upon you, now is the time to make me amends. Do not hesitate, but cut off my head and tail, and throw them into the fire." Tears started from the prince's eyes at this request, and he was going several times to refuse; but the White Cat insisted upon it so earnestly, that at last, with a trembling hand, he chopped off her head and tail, and threw them accordingto order into the fire. In an instant the bodyofthe White Cat was changed into themostbeautiful lady that ever was seen, and immediately a great number of gentlemenand ladies, holding their cats' skins over their shoulders, came and fell prostrate at her feet, crying, u Long live our gracious queen ! How great is our joy to see her once more in her natural shape!" The prince was glad beyond description to behold so charming a creature, but could not help expressing an earnest desire to know the cause of this surprising transformation. u Restrain �11 your curiosity/1 says the lovely queen, " till we arive at your father's court, where I am now ready to accompany you, and where I will relate my unheard-of misfortunes. Come, see, the carnage waits.' So saying, she gave her hand to the prince, who led her into a chariot, the inside of which was fine velvet, set with brilliants, the outside gold; and the horses' harness was made of emeralds. Away they flew, and were presently at the gates of the king's palace, where the two eldest princes were already arrived with their two princesses, in fine calashes of blue, embossed with gold. The courtiers crowded to present these three illustrious couples to the king. The two eldest princes with their ladies advanced first, and were received very graciously by the monarch, who declared they had brought him two such beauties, that he knew not to which he should give the preference; but the moment the youngest approached with his queen, both full of grace and dignity, the king* cried out in ecstacy, cc This is the incomparable beauty, whose worth and excellence claims and deserves my crown!"—" I came not to rob vou of your crown/' answered the discreet queen; " I was born heiress to six kingdoms. Give me leave to present one of them to you, and one to each of your sons; for which I �ask no other return than this amiable prince in marriage," The king and all the court were struck with joy at this declaration; and the nuptials were celebrated the same day with great magnificence. Never were a pair more happy; and the young prince, to the last moment of his life, blessed the accident that led him to the abode of the sweet White Cat, �13 T H E Y E L L O W DWARF. T H E R E was once a queen, who, though she had born many children, had but one daughter left alive, of whom she was fond to an excess, humouring and indulging her in all her ways and wishes. This princess was exceedingly beautiful, so that she was called All-Fair, and had twenty kings courting her at one time. Her mother, being advanced in years, would fain have had her married and settled before she died, but no entreaties could prevail; whereupon she determined to go to the Desert Fairy to ask advice concerning her stuborn daughter. Now, this fairy being guarded by two fierce lions, the queen made a cake of millet, sugarcandy, and crocodiles' eggs, in order to appease their fury and pass by them; and having thus provided herself, she set out. After traveling some time, she found herself weary, and, lying down under a tree, fell asleep. When she awoke, she heard the lions which guarded the fairy roaring, upon which, looking for her cake, she found it was gone. This threw her into the utmost agony, not knowing how to save herself �14 from being devoured by them; when, hearing somebody cry, " Hem! hem ! " she lifted up her eyes, and beheld a little yellow man on a tree, half a yard high, picking and eating oranges, " Ah ! queen," said the yellow Dwarf, (for so he was called on account of his complexion, and the orange-tree he lived in) " h o w will you escape the lions? There is but one w a y : I know what business brought you here! promise me your daughter in marriage, and I will save you," The queen thought she could not but look upon so frightful a figure with horror, yet was forced to consent; where upon she instantly found herself in her own palace, and all that had passed seemed only as a dream ; nevertheless, she was so throughly persuaded of the realty of it, that she became melancholy. Theyoung princess being unable to learn the cause of her dejection, resolved to go and inquire of the Desert Fairy; and, accordingly, having prepared a cake for the lions, she also set off for her abode. It happened that All-Fair took exactly the same rout her mother had done before her; and coming to the fatal tree, which was loaded with oranges, she had a mind to pick some ! therefore, setting down her basket wherein she carried the cake,she plentifully �1 15 indulged herself. The lions now began to roar, when All-Fair, looking for her cake, was thrown into the utmost trouble on finding it gone. As she was lamenting her deplorable situation, the Yellow Dwarf presented himself to her with these words:— u Lovely princess, dry up your tears, and hear what I am going to say: You need not proceed to the Desert Fairy to know the reason of your mother's indisposition, she is ungenerous enough to repent of having promised you, her adorable daughter, to me in marriage."—"How!" interrupted the princess; 66 my mother promised me to you in marriage! you! such a fright as you!" — " Nay, none of your scoffs," returned thr Yellow Dwarf, (C 1 wish you not to stir up my anger: if you will promise to marry me, I will be the tenderest and most loving husband in the world—if not, save yourself from the lions if you can." In short, the princess was forced to give her word that ^she would have him, but with such agony 'of mind, that she fell into a swoom; and when she recovered, she found herself in her own bed, finely adorned with ribbons, and a ring of a single red hair so fastened round her finger that it could not be got off. This adventure had the same effect upon All-Fair as the former had upon her mother. She grew melancholy, which was remarked �16 and wondered at by the whole court. The.-best way to divert her, they thought, would be to urge her to marry; which the prin- g cess, who was now become less obstinate on y^ that point than formerly, consented to; and, „ thinking' that such a pigmy as the Yellow aj. Dwarf would not dare to contend with so ' gallent a person as the K i n g of the Golden^ Mines, she fixed upon this king for her husband, who was exceedingly rich and ou powerful, and loved her to distraction. The 0 f most superb preparations were made for s u the nuptials, and the happy day was fixed f cj. when, as they were proceeding to the cere- } a mony, they saw moving towards them a s o box, whereon sat an old woman remarkable <1, for her ugliness.—" Hold queen and prin- j| cess," cried she, knitting her brows, " re- f 0 member the promises you both made to my c. friend the Yellow Dwarf. I am the Desert 0 j Fairy, and if All-Fair does not marry him, I swear by my coif, I will burn my crutch." C( The queen and princess were struck motion- p less by this unexpected greeting* of thej tj F a i r y ; but the Prince of the Golden Mines was exceedingly wroth; and, holding his Si sword to her throat, u F l y wretch !" said ti he, or thy malice shall cost thee thy life." V No sooner had he uttered these words, thai, h the top of the box flying off, out came the I Yellow Dwarf, mounted upon a large,a i 7 ti i �rhs ul<| 17 Spanish cat, who placing himself between on the king and the fairy, uttered these words: nd:, " Rash youth, thy rage should be levelled low at me, noc at the Desert F a i r y ; I am thy so rival, and claim her by promise, and a single den hair round her finger." her This so enraged the king, that he cried and out, contemptible creature! wert thou worthy Che of notice, I would sacrifice thee for thy prefor sumption," Whereupon the Yellow Dwarl ed; clapping spurs to his cat, and drawing a sre- "arg.e cutlass, defied the king to combat; and 1 a so they went into the court-yard. The sun ible then immediately turned red as blood, and rin- it became dark: thunder and lightning re- followed, by the flashes whereof were permy ceived to giants vomiting fire on each side sert f the Yellow Dwarf. im, The king behaved with such undaunted courage as to give the Dwarf great perionbut was dismayed, when he saw th^the Desert Fairy, mounted on a winged inesr griffin, with her head covered with snakes, his strike the princess so heard with a lance, said that she fell into the queen's arms all over ife." with blood. He left the combat to go to haiL her relief; but the dwarf was to quick for the him, and, flying on his Spanish cat to the balcony where she was, lie took her from her mother's arms, leaped with her upon �the top of the palace, and immediately disappeared. I As the king* stood confused and astonished at this strange adventure, he suddenly found a mist before his eyes, and himself lifted up in the air by some extraordinary power: for the Desert Fairy had fallen in love with! him. To secure him for herself, therefore, she carried him to a frightful cavern, hoping he would there forget All-Fair, and tried many artifices to complete her designs. But finding this scheme ineffectual, she resolved to carry him to a place altogether as pleasant as the other was terrible; and accordingly set him by herself in a chariot drawn by swans. In passing through the air, he had. the unspeakable surprise to see his adored princess in a castle of polished steel, leaning her head on one hand, and wiping away the tears with the other. She happened to look up, and had the mortification to see the king sitting by the fairy , who then; by her art, made herself appear extremely beautiful/ Had not the king been sensible of the fairy's power, he would certainly then have tried to free himself from her. At last they came to a stately palace, fenced on one side by walls of emeralds, and on the other by a boisterous sea. The king, by pretending to be in lovaH with the fairy, obtained liberty to walk by �JL J himself on the shore; and, as he was one day invoking the powers of the sea, he heard a voice, and presently after was surprised with the appearance of a Mermaid, which, coming up with a pleasant smile, spoke these words : — " O K i n g of the Golden Mines, I well know all that has passed in regard to you and the fair princess. Don't suspect this to be a contrivance of the fairy's to try you, for I am an inveterate enemy both to her and the Yellow dwarf; therefore, if you will have confidence in me, I will lend you my assistance to procure the release not only of yourself, but of All-Fair also." The overjoyed king promised to do whatever the Mermaid bade him; whereupon, setting him upon her tail, they sailed away on a rolling sea. When they had sailed some time, " Now," said the Mermaid to the king, " w e direw near the place where your princess is kept by the Yellow Dwarf. You will have many enemies to fight before you can come to her; take, therefore, this sword, with which you may overcome every thing, provided you never let it go out of your hand." The king returned her all the thanks that the most grateful heart could suggest; and the Mermaid landed and took leave of him, promising him farther assistance when necessary. �20 The king boldly advanced, and meeting with two terrible sphinxes, laid them dead athis feetwith hissword. Next heattacked six dragons that opposed him, and despatched them also. Then he met with four and twenty nymphs, with garlands of flowers, at sight of whom he stopped, beingloath to destroy so much beauty ; when he heard a voice say, " Strike! strike! or you will lose your princess for ever ! " upon which he threw himself in the midst of them, and soon dispersed them. He now came in view of All-Fair, and, hastening to her, exclaimed, " O my princess, behold your faithful lover!" But she, drawing back, replied, "Faithful lover! Did I not see you passing through the air with abeautiful nymph ? Were you faithful then ? " " Y e s , " replied the king, " I was. That was the detested Desert Fairy, who was carrying me to a place where I must have languished out all my days, had it not been for a kind Mermaid, by whose assistance it is that I am now come to release you." So saying, he cast himself at her feet; but, catching hold of her gown, unfortunately let go the magic sword: which the Yellow Dwarf no sooner discovered, than, leaping from behind a shrub where he had been concealed, he ran and seized it. By two cabalistcal words he then conjured up two giants, who �f | r l I 1 x I laid the king in irons. u Now," said the dwarf, " m y rival's fate is in my own hands; however, if he will consent to my marriage, he shall have his life and liberty." u No," said the king, " 1 scorn thy favour on such terms;" which so provoked the dwarf, that he instantly stabbed him to the heart. The disconsolate princess, aggravated to the last degree at such barbarity, thus vented her g r i e f : — " Thou hideous creature, since entreaties could not avail thee, perhaps thou now reliest upon force; but thou shalt be di-sappointed, and thy brutal soul shall know perpetual mortification from the mo'ment I tell the I die for thee love I have for the King of the Golden Mines !" And so saying, she sunk down upon his body, and expired without a sigh. Thus ended the fate of these two faithful lovers, which the Mermaid very much regretted; but, all her power lying in the sword, she could only change them into two i^almtrees; which, preserving a constant mutual affection for each other, caress and unite their branches together. \ �22 fHE THREE WISHES. T H E R E was once a man, not very rich, who had a very pretty woman to his wife. One winter's evening, as they sat by the fire, they talked of the happiness of their neighbours, who were richer than they. Said the wife, " If it were in my power to have what < I wish, I should soon be happier than all of them." " So should I too," said the husband; " I wish we had fairies now, and that one of them was kind enough to grant me what I should ask." A t that instant they saw a very beautiful lady in their room, who said to them, " I am a fairy; and I promise to grant to you the three first things 1 you shall wish; but take care—after having wished for three things, I will not grant one wish further." The fairy disappeared; and the man and his wife were much perplexed. u For my own part, said the wife, " i f it ;rere left to my choice I know very well what I should wish for: I do not wish yet, ! but I think nothing is so good as to be J handsome, rich, and to be of great quality." But the husband answered, " With all these tilings one may be sick and fretful, and one may die young: it would be much wiser to wish for health, cheerfulness, and long life." " But to what purpose is long life with po* �verty ?" says the wife: " it would only prolong your misery. In truth, the fairy should have promised us a dozen of gifts, for there are at least a dozen things which I want." " That may be true," said the husband; " b u t let us take time; let us consider till morning the three things which are most necessary for us, and then wish." < " H I think all night," said the wife; "meanwhile let us warm ourselves, for it is very cold.", At the same time the wife took the tongs to mend the fire; and seeing there were a great many coals thoroughly lighted, she said without thinking on it, " Here's a nice fire; I wish we had a yard of black pudding for our supper; we could dress it 1 easily." She had hardly said these words, when down came tumbling through the 1 chimney a yard of black pudding. ' 6 Plague on your greedy guts with your black pud1 ding!" said the husband : "here's a fine wish indeed! Now we have only two left; I for my part I am so vexed, that I wish the black pudding fast to the tip of your nose." \ ; The man soon perceived he was sillier than his wife; for, at this second wish, up starts the black pudding, and sticks so fast to the tip of the poor wife's nose, there was no means to take it of. c 6 Wretch that I am !" cried she; "you are a wicked man for wishing the pudding fast to my nose." " My �24 dear, "answered the husband, " X vow I did not think of it; but what shall we do? I am about wishing for vast riches, and propose to make a golden case to hide the pudding." " Not at all," answered the wife; " f o r I should kill myself, were I to live with this pudding dangling at my nose : be persuaded, we have still one wish to make; leave it to me, or I shall instantly throw myself out of the window." With this she ran and opened the window; but the husband, who loved his wife, called out, " Hold, my dear wife! I give you leave to wish for what you will." " Well," said the wife, " m y wish is that this pudding may drop off." A t that instant the pudding dropped off; and the wife, who did not want wit, said to her husband; " T h e fairy has imposed upon us; she was in the right; possibly we should have been more unhappy with riches than we are at present. Believe me, friend, let us wish for nothing, and take things as it shall please God to send them : in the mean time, let us sup upon our pudding, since that's all that remains to us of our wishes." The husband thought his wife judged right; they supped merrily, and never gave themselves further trouble about the things which they had designed to wish for, 2TINIS. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Woodcut 027: Title-page illustration of a man in a small boat. A village can be seen in the background. Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Storys of Prince Lupin, Yellow Dwarf, and the Three Wishes. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9923423433505154">s0118b16</a> Description An account of the resource 7 printed at the bottom of the title-page Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. Yellow Dwarf The Three Wishes Story of Prince Lupin and the White Cat Abstract A summary of the resource. This chapbook contains three popular fairy tales, including Prince Lupin and the White Cat, The Yellow Dwarf, and the Three Wishes. The first tale follows the adventures of the youngest son of a king who has instructed his sons to find him various fantastical objects in order to determine who should inherit the kingdom, including a beautiful dog, a web of cloth fine enough to pass through the eye of a needle, and a beautiful young woman. The youngest son finds help in procuring these objects, as well as his own happiness, at the court of a white cat who is actually an enchanted queen herself. The Yellow Dwarf, tells the fantastical tale of All-Fair, a beautiful princess who won’t settle down, so her mother decides to seek the advice of the Desert Fairy. On the way, she loses the cakes she had brought to distract the lions guarding the fairy, but a Yellow Dwarf appears and promises to save her in exchange for All-Fair’s hand in marriage. She agrees but becomes melancholy after these events, which causes All-Fair to follow the same path as her mother, falling into the same trap with the Dwarf, whom she agrees to marry. When she repents her choice, she decides to agree to marry the King of the Golden Mines instead, but the Desert Fairy and the Yellow Dwarf arrive suddenly on supernatural steeds and battle with the King who is defeated. The Dwarf takes the princess home, and the Desert Fairy takes the king, who she has fallen in love with, but the King escapes with the help of a Mermaid. Bearing a magical sword given to him by the mermaid, the King defeats a variety of foes in an attempt to rescue All-Fair, but is ultimately defeated and killed. All-Fair dies of grief and the mermaid changes both of their bodies into a pair of palm trees. The Three Wishes is a short tale at the end of the chapbook that reminds the readers to ‘be careful what you wish for.’ In this tale, a fairy promises a married couple that the next three things that they wish for will be granted. After arguing about what to wish for, they agree to wait ‘til morning to decide. Forgetting the specific nature of the fairy’s instructions, they end up accidentally using up their wishes in a series of ridiculous requests, which eventually leads them to realize that it is best to be happy with what you have in life. Extent The size or duration of the resource. 24 pages 15 cm Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1840-1850 per University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks Subject The topic of the resource Courtship and Marriage Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow Is Referenced By A related resource that references, cites, or otherwise points to the described resource. University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks <a title="University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks" href="http://special.lib.gla.ac.uk/chapbooks/search/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">http://special.lib.gla.ac.uk/chapbooks/search/</a> Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario Type The nature or genre of the resource fairytale/folk lore supernatural & ghost stories