40 10 639 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/861ba66736577647cc22ae5f432cf4c7.jpg ca142327345ebfbabe3c62d6bbc2890b 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 3189 Width 1536 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/78848fa5fc960b33ef5dcbb8e232ac10.pdf 38c6ece0bbe766dd4411e9c7acdbc317 PDF Text Text Vo I 3 THE E C H O OF FRIARS-CARSE HERMITAGE j ALSO, A V O N ' S A S T R E A M : DIRGE. BY R O B E R T BURNS, HAMILTON. • I f fair fclence on thee fmile, Self-reivardingJludio us toil, Cajl not a difJainful eye On the hind that pajfes l y : Feelings ftrong may ivarm his heart / Feelings he can ne *er impart• — » ® « — T o which are added, V E R t S E S, WRITTEN IN THE HIGH CHURCH-YARD, G L A S G O W : P R I N T E D FOR AND SOLD BY BRAFH & REID. GLASGOW, �J f 1 & ADVERTISEMENT. X HE Author of the two following Poems cannct boaft of the advantages of education, or the endowments of literature. In the humble fphere of life in which he has been deftined to move, learning is far beyond' the reach of his ability or leifure. T o pafs a few idle hours, when not engaged in the labours of the Loom, and to amufe a fmall circle of acquaintances, were his fole inducements to attempt thefe verfes. They are now offered to the Public, with diffidence and refpedh The Author is confcious that they appear under many difadvantages; but he trufts to the candour and good nature of the Public, and, fhould they affign to him a fmall portion of that merit which diftmgtfflhed his illustrious predecefior of the fame name, his higheft am- ; bition will be gratified. At the fame time, the Public | voice will determine, whether he fhall again appear before their tribunal. Though doom'd by Fortune to the Loom, And time deny'd book-fhelves to toom, Wild warbling Fancy, full in bloom, N o w fpreads her wing, And burnies, felvag'd a' wi' broom, I lang to fing. HAMILTON. ROBERT BURNS. �( 3 ) THE E C H O OF FRIARS-CARSE • j i n I N S C R I P T I O N f o r the on tie BANKS of HERMITAGE. RUINS O/CADZOW AVON, near CASTLS HAMILTON, ftranger ponder here, Grandeur's ruins claim a tear; 'View in me thy coming fate, Arm'd definition foon or late Down thy frame will lay as l o w ; Warn'd—prepare to meet the blow* ( PASSING Life's a truly chequer'd fcene, Grief and joy alternate reign, None are evej- truly blefl, Toil and care attend the beft. (Youth and love may frifk and toy, Tafte the brimming cup of joy ; But fufpicion's urging doubt, Stern, forbids to fip it 9Ut. Soon will manhood's riper age racant thoughts and time engage,; �( 4 ) A world's intruding needful care, Maxims, future life to fquare, Take pofieffion of the foul, Pleaiure's fofter fway controul. Think not fons of wealth alone Call true happinefs their own ; Or that fons of want and care Ne'er enjoy of blifs a lhare, While through life they mourning go, Preft with forrow, toil and wo ; Hope to anchor fafe in heaven, Gilds their fpan, while tempeft driven Virtue bright her ftandard rears, Future joy their mis'ry cheers. Princely, noble, art thou born r Humbler ftations never fcorn, Keep thy diftance, fiiew thy power* Man to blefs, but not devour. Is it to thy glory told Thou halt been in danger bold ? Know my heroes were the fame, Patterns of illuftrious fame. Here the warrior's picaife was fung, Here the deep ton'd harp was ilrung, Here the virgin's blufoing charms Yielded to the brave in arms ; But nor beauteous nor brave Claim exemption from the grave. If fair fcience on thee fmile, Self-rewarding ftudious toil, Call not a difdainful eye On the hind that pafies by i �( 5 ) Feelings ftrong may warm his heart; Feelings he can ne'er impart. Smooth his life may flow, ferene, Guiltlefs> pure, without a ftain. If in life's more parrow vale, Bounteous Heaven hath mark'd thy fcale, Thank thy God for what he's lent, Happy ftill, and Hill content. Nature's common gifts are thine, Let not thanklefs Pride repine; Love and Friendfhip's facred ties, Vital air, indulgent fkies, T o the peafant and his lord Equal blifs and health afford. Stranger ! go—be Virtue's friend, ( Moralize on Cadzow's ruin ; Keep in view thy latter end, Blifs beyond the grave purfuing. AVON'S STREAM i A DIRGE. o I. AVON round thy rocky ftream With many a weary ftep I flray; N o r cheer'd by Phosbus' vernal beam Grief pines my gloomy foul away. �( 6 ) XI. Thy lofty fwelling banks I view, Adorn'd with geen-trees bloffom'd white : Thy birks all bath'd in morning dew, Alas ! they yield me no delight, III. T h y winding walks, the happy fcenes O f my exulting raptur'd youth, Ere while I knew Wo's fharpelt pains, Ere while I doubted Peggy's truth. IV. ? Twas then my every thought was love, Fame's airy trump I valued not; *Twas then no wealth my foul could move, Nor envy four my peaceful cot. V. But ah ! how rueful now the change ! How folemn fad beneath thefe boughs ! Where happy, happy, we did range, And mutual breath'd fincereft vows. VI. Thou ruin'd caftle*, ivy bound, Where floried ghofts terrific cry ; Thy fhapelefs form, their dreary found Accord with wretches fuch as I. * CadzozVf near Hamilton. �( 7 ) vil. The tumbling torrrents' boiling roar, The winter-fhrouded lifelefs trees, The nipping frofts' mildewing hoar, My fad defponding fancy pleafe. VIII. Joy's mortal bane; falfe womankind ! For you on Avon's banks I'll mourn ; Nor foothing folace hope to find, But in the filent peaceful urn. VERSES* WRITTEN IN THE HIGH CHURCH-YARD, GLASGOW, BY THE LA«T E M R . J O H N T A Y L O R , OF ti P GLASGO'W^ • WRITING-MASTER. I. GRIEVE not ye wife, though in this yard. Some hundred thoufands lie j The juft inherit their reward, Are happiefl when they die. •• 4 . » ' �' 8 ) II. When wicked men to duft defcend N o more they'll plague mankind ; On earth that life lhould never end Was ne'er by Heaven defign'd. III. Suppofing this terraqueous globe All form'd of folid land; If none had died, ere now we would Have wanted room to ftand. IV. W e in the other world fhall reap As in this life we fow ; Be virtuous if ye would efcapc The pang of future wo. V. On jarring creeds let fchoolmen plod ; W h o feldom truth difplay. D o you th' internal voice of God, Your co?ifcience, ftill obey. GLASGOW. JOHN TAYLOR* F I N I S , � 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 The Echo of Friars-Carse Hermitage; also, Avon's Stream: A Dirge.&nbsp; To which are added, Verses, Written in the high church-yard, Glasgow. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Burns, Robert, 1759-1796 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> Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 179? per G. Ross Roy Collection, University of South Carolina Libraries 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 #2 in a bound collection of 54 chapbooks Description An account of the resource Six line verse on the title-page: "If fair science on thee smile, Self-rewarding studious toil, Cast not a disdainful eye on the bind that passes by: Feeling strong may warm his heart; Feelings he can ne'er impart." Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Avon (County) England Subject The topic of the resource Religion and Morals Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow Courtship and Marriage Poetry Is Referenced By A related resource that references, cites, or otherwise points to the described resource. G. Ross Roy Collection, University of South Carolina Libraries <a title="G. Ross Roy Collection, University of South Carolina Libraries" href="http://library.sc.edu/spcoll/britlit/roycol.html" target="_blank" rel="noopener">http://library.sc.edu/spcoll/britlit/roycol.html</a> Abstract A summary of the resource. The chapbook begins with an ‘advertisement’/inscription by Robert Burns, humbly submitting his poems to the reader’s pleasure. The first poem focuses on the grief and joy of life, love, beauty, and nature, while the second poem is a lament over the author’s betrayal by his love as he wanders the countryside by stream and ruined castle. These two poems by Burns are followed by some “Verses” by the late Mr. John Taylor of Glasgow, Writing Master, which urges the “wife” or reader to not grieve for those dead and past, but to celebrate their passing into God’s kingdom, and to continue living a virtuous life themselves. Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. Avon's Stream. Verses, written in the high church-yard, Glasgow. 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 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/18873c8cd3503fb60a1a1fa23c85a964.jpg 7b9d07b3bf5b019655ddaae1f7bd6273 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 3190 Width 1487 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/d8c909641c67fa18b3d15ca9e2343b99.pdf e802b2148b94aba77ec708fc0297f8d3 PDF Text Text P E A C E A N D HOME, I. O H tarry, gentle traveller; Oil, tarry now at fetting day ; Nor hafte to leave this lowly vale For lofty mountains far away. II. Oh, tell me what has tempted thee Thro' woods and dreary w7ilds to roam Oh, tell me what has tempted thee T o quit thy lot and peaceful home. III. Say, hail thou not a partner dear, That's conilant to thy love and kind? And wilt thou leave her faithful fide, Nor cail one forrowing lock behind ? IV. Yon fun that gilds the village fpire, And gaily flings his parting ray, " Say, fmiies he not as fweetly o'er Thy native village far away ? V. Does mad ambition lure thy fteps T o wander in the paths of ftrife ? Ah, think how fwift thy minutes fly ! Ah, think how fhort thy fpan of life ! �C 3 ) VI. For life is like yon crimfon beam That trembles in the weftern Ikies; Full foon, alas ! its glories ceafe; It fparkles—glimmers—fades—and dies. VII. Oh, wafie not then thy fleeting hours In foreign climes and paths unknown ; Return thee to the happy plains That bounteous nature made thy own. VIII. For me, nor gold, nor princely power, Nor purple veil, nor ftately dome, Nor all that trophy'd grandeur boafts, Shall lure me from my tranquil home. IX. This ruftic Cot and filent ihade Shall evermore my dwelling be ; E'en when my deltin'd days are fpent I'll reft beneath yon aged tree. X. -Befide the brook, a Jimplc ftone, Shall ferve to guard my cold remains? And tell the pilgrims, as they pafs, I died amidft my native plains* XI. Return then, gentle traveller ; Return thee with the morning ray$ Nor leave again thy lowly vale, Fc;- lofty mountains far away. �E A C E A N D H O M PREFERRED TO WAR AND TRAVEL. T o which are added, T H E V O L U N T E E R, T H E D R U M, AND SCENES OF MY ® Wit t( Oh tarry, gentle i( 6i YOUTH. <> £ traveller; Oh, tarry nonv at J,eft ing day ; Nor hajle to leave this lowly i( — For lofty mountains ar vale aiaay,,, G L A . S G O W: PRINTED FOR AND SOLD EY Brafb & Reid, E � 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 Peace and Home preferred to War and Travel to which are added The Volunteer, The Drum, and Scenes of my Youth 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> Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1796 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 #3 in a bound collection of 54 chapbooks Description An account of the resource Four line verse on the title-page. "Oh tarry, gentle traveller; Oh, tarry now at setting day; Nor haste to leave this lowly vale for lofty mountains ar away." Incomplete, this chapbook is missing 5 pages. Subject The topic of the resource Ballads and songs Crime War Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow 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> Abstract A summary of the resource. A collection of ballads and songs that follow the theme of urging young folk to remain in their home villages rather than leave for work, love, or war. The first poem paints an idyllic scene of the rural countryside and village life, cautioning young men to avoid traveling abroad or seeking their fortunes elsewhere and instead urging them to stay home with their families and lovers. The second song satirizes the life of a soldier, depicting it as full of violence, suffering, sin, and unhappiness, suggesting that young men should avoid volunteering for the army. The third poem expresses disgust/hatred of drums and recruitment that lure young men from home to be killed in distant lands and wars, while the last item begins with a quote from Shakespeare on “Such Things Were” and reminisces on scenes of youth and growing up, lamenting those loved and lost. Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. The Volunteer The Drum Scenes of my Youth 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 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/e8c32a343f847d0ae7cf8d4461ccc5ef.pdf cf54d410141a9a29c5167671ceff2c5b PDF Text Text SIR NEIL AND GLENGYLE, THE HIGHLAND CHIEFTAINS, A Tragical Ballad. To which are added, THE D r u n k e n E x c i s e m a n , AND C h e r r y R i p e . GLASGOW: PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS. �SIR NEIL AND GLENGYLE. I N yonder Isle, beyond Argyle, W h e r e flocks and herds were plenty, Lived a rich 'Squire, whose sister fair W a s the flower of all that country. A Knight, Sir Neil, had wooed her long, Expecting soon to marry ; A young Highland Laird his suit prefer'd, Y o u n g , handsome, brisk, and airy. L o n g she respected brave Sir Neil, Because he wooed sincerely, But as soon as she saw the young Glengyle, H e won her most entirely ; Till some lies unto her brother came, That Neil had boasted proudly, Of favours from that Lady young, W h i c h made him vow thus rudely. I swear by all our friendship past, Before this hour next morning, This Knight or me shall breathe our last, He shall know who he's scorning. �T o meet on the shore were the loud waves roar, In a challenge he defied him : Ere the sun was up, these young men met, N o living creature nigh them. W h a t ails, what ails my dearest friend ? Why want ye to destroy me I want no flattery, base Sir Neil, But draw your sword and try me. W h y should I fight with you, M ' V a n , Y o u ne'er have me offended ; A n d if I aught to you have done, I'll own m y fault and mend it. Is this your boasted courage, knave ? W h o would not now despise thee ? But if thou still refuse to fight, I'll like a d o g chastise thee. Forbear, fond fool, tempt not thy fate ; Presume not now to strike me, There's not a man in all Scotland, Can wield the broad sword like me. Combined with guilt, thy wond'rous skill From fate shall not defend thee; M y sister's wrongs shall brace my arms, This stroke to death shall send thee. But this, and many a well aimed blow, T h e generous Baron warded, Being loath to harm so dear a friend, Himself he only guarded : Till mad, at being sore abused, A furious push he darted, W h i c h pierced the brains of bold M ' V a n , W h o with a groan departed. ? �4 Curse on my skill!—what have I done ! Rash man !—but thou would have it : Y o u have forced a friend to take thy life, W h o would have bled to save it. W h y should I mourn for this sad deed, Since now it can't be mended ? M y happiness that seemed so nigh, B y one rash stroke is ended. A n exile into some strange land, T o fly I know not whither ! I must not see my lovely Ann, Since I have slain her brother ! But casting round his mournful eyes, T o see if none were nigh them ; There he espied the young Glengyle, W h o like the wind came flying. I ' m come too late to stop the strife, But since thou art victorious, I'll be revenged, or lose my l i f e ; M y honour bids me d o this. I know your bravery young Glengyle, Though of life I ' m now regardless, W h y am I forced my friends to kill ? See brave M ' V a n lies breathless. Unhappy lad, put up thy blade, T e m p t me no more I pray thee ; This sword that pierced the 'Squire so rude, Soon in the dust shall lay thee. Does it b e c o m e so brave a Knight ? D o e s blood so much affright thee ? Glengyle shall ne'er disgrace thy sword, Unsheath it then and fight me. �5 Again with young Glengyle he closed, Intending not to harm him ; Three times with gentle wounds him pierced, Y e t never could disarm him. Y i e l d up your sword to me, G l e n g y l e : What on is our quarrel grounded ? I could have pierced thy dauntless heart, Each time I have thee wounded. But if thou thinkest me to kill, In faith thou art mistaken; So if thou scorns to yield thy sword, In pieces straight I'll break it. W h i l e talking thus he quit his guard, Glengyle in haste advanced, A n d pierced his generous manly breast, T h e spear behind him glanced ! Then d o w n he fell, and cries I ' m slain ! Adieu to all things earthly ! A d i e u , Glengyle, the day's thy own, But thou has gained it basely. W h e n tidings came to Lady A n n , T i m e after time she fainted ! She ran and kissed their clay cold lips, A n d thus their fate lamented. Illustrious brave, but hapless men, This horrid sight does move me M y dearest friends rolled in their blood, T h e men that best did love me ! O thou the guardian of my youth, M y dear and only brother! F o r this thy most untimely fate, I'll mourn till life is over. ! �6 And brave Sir Neil, how art thou fall'n, And withered in thy blossom, N o more I'll love the treacherous man That pierced my hero's bosom. A kind and tender heart was thine, T h y friendship was abused ; A braver man ne'er faced a foe, Had thou been fairly used. F o r thee a maid I'll live and die, Glengyle shall ne'er espouse me ; A n d for the space of seven long years, T h e d o w y black shall clothe me, THE DRUNKEN EXCISEMAN. I K N O W that young folks like to hear a new song, Of something that's funny and not very long, It is of an Exciseman the truth I will tell, W h o thought that one night he was going to hell. Fal de lal, &c. �7 One night he went out to look for his prey, H e did meet with some smugglers, as I heard them say, In tasting the liquors they were going to sell, T h e Exciseman got drunk, the truth I will tell. H e got so intoxicated he fell to the ground, A n d like a fat sow was forced to lie down, Just nigh to a coal pit the Exciseman did lie. W h e n four or five colliers by chance did c o m e by, T h e y shouldered him up and hoised him away, Like a pedlar's pack, without any delay ; Into the bucket they handed him down, T h i s j o l l y Exciseman they got under ground. T h e Exciseman awakened with terrible fear, Upstarted a collier, says, what brought you here ? Indeed Mr. Devil, I don't very well know, But I think I am come to the regions below. Says the collier, what was you in the world above ? I was an Exciseman and few did me love : I n d e e d Mr. Devil the truth I will tell, Since I've got here, I'll be what you will. Since you're an Exciseman, here you must remain, Y o u will never get out of this dark cell again ; The gates they are fast, and bind you secure. A l l this you must suffer for robbing the poor. Indeed Mr. Devil if you'll pity me, N o more will I rob the poor you shall s e e ; If you will look over, as you've done b e f o r e I never will rob the poor any more. �8 C o m e give me your money, which now I demand Before you can get to the christian land, O yes, Mr. Devil, the Exciseman did say, I wish to get back, for to see light of day. C H E R R Y RIPE. C H E R R Y ripe, cherry ripe, ripe I c r y ; Full and fair ones come and buy. Cherry ripe, cherry ripe, ripe I cry ; Full and fair ones come and buy. I f so be you ask me where They do grow, I answer there, W h e r e the sunbeams sweetly smile, There's the land or cherry isle. Cherry ripe, &c. W h e r e the sunbeams sweetly smile, There's the land of cherry isle. There plantations fully show All the year where cherries grow. Cherry ripe, cherry ripe, ripe I cry, Full and fair ones come and buy, Full and fair ones come and buy. � https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/4427442731bd7b476c5812383a636465.jpg 43d3fea5328a2dc5505c65974c99ca6f 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 Sir Neil and Glengyle, The Highland Chieftains, A tragical ballad. To which are added, The Drunken Exciseman, and Cherry Ripe. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9923416823505154">s0153b17</a> Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. The Drunken Exciseman Cherry Ripe Extent The size or duration of the resource. 8 pages 16 cm 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 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> Subject The topic of the resource Ballads and songs Highlands Alcohol Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1840-1850 per National Library of Scotland Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Argyle, Scotland 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 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/65f4810d06f403baecd3af63c3486075.pdf 762378a3c257152eb1a406240105b5e3 PDF Text Text SIX Favourite Songs. THE S A I L O R S EPITAPH. BLUE-EYED MARY. THE SONG OF THE OLDEN TIME. BLACK-EYED SUSAN. ROY'S WIFE. GREEN BUSHES. GLASGOW: P R I N T E D F O R THE B O O K S E L L E R S . 51 �S O N G S THE SAILOR'S EPITAPH. Here, a sheer hulk, lies poor Tom Bowling, The darling of our crew ; No more he'll hear the tempest howling, For death has brought him to. His form was of the manliest beauty. His heart was kind and soft; Faithful below he did his duty, And now he's gone aloft. Tom never from his word departed, His virtues were so rare ; His friends were many and true-hearted— His Poll was kind and fair. And then he'd sing so blithe and jolly, Ah ! many's the time and oft; But mirth is turn'd to melancholy, For Tom is gone aloft. Yet shall poor Tom find pleasant weather, When He, who all commands, Shall give, to call life's crew together. The word to pipe all hands. Thus death, who kings and tars despatches, In vain Tom's life has doff'd ; For tho' his body's under hatches, His soul is gone aloft. �3 BLUE-EYED MARY. As I walked out one May morning, The flowers they were a-springing, I met a fair maid by the way, She being so sweetly singing. I did salute this pretty fair maid, It being so brisk and airy, She appeared to be a venus bright, Was the charming blue-eyed Mary. Where are yon going, my pretty maid, This summer morning early ? I am going to milk my cows, And then to mind my dairy. Shall I go with you, my pretty maid ? She answered me so cheerily, Just as ye please, kind sir, says she, Replied the blue-eyed Mary. We were walking over the flowery field, The flowers they were a-springing, Down on a mossy bank we sat, Where the larks were sweetly singing. Down on the mossy bank we sat, I'm sure no one was near me, So there I kiss'd the ruby lips Of my charming blue-eyed Mary. �4 O now you've had your will of me, Kind sir, O do not leave me ; For if I should prove with child by thee. My parents they will slight me. O then I kiss'd her rosy cheeks, Soon as these words she'd spoken, I gave to her a diamond ring, To keep now as a token. I said, fair maid, I must begone, My ship will sail so early, I'll prove as true as a turtle-dove, To you, my blue-eyed Mary. When six long weeks were gone and past, No letter came to Mary ; She often view'd her diamond ring, When she was in her dairy. She was crossing o er the flowery fields Next Monday morning early, A sailor stepped up to her, Saying, how are you, my Mary? For I am now return'd from sea— Forsake your cows and dairy, And I'll make you my lawful bride, My charming blue-eyed Mary, She went with him without delay, Forsook her cows and dairy, �5 And he made her a captain's bride, The charming blue-eyed Mary. G R E E N BUSHES. When I was a-walking one morning in May, To hear the birds whistle, and nightingales play, I heard a young damsel, so sweetly sung she, Down by the green bushes, where he thinks to meet me. I'll buy you fine beavers, and fine silken gowns, I'll buy you fine petticoats flounc'd to the ground, If you will prove loyal and constant to me, Forsake your own true love, and marry with me. I want none of your beavers and fine silken hose. For I ne'er was so poor as to marry for clothes ; But I will prove loyal and constant to thee, Forsake my own true love, and married we'll be. Come let us be going, kind sir, if you please, Come, let us be going from under these trees, For yonder is coming my true love I see, Down by the green bushes, where he thinks to meet me. But when he got there and found she was gone, He stood like some lambkin left quite forlorn ; She's gone with some other, and forsaken me, So adieu to the green bushes, for ever adieu. �6 I'll be like some school-boy, spend my time in play, For I never was so foolishly deluded away, There's no false-hearted woman shall serve me so more, So adieu to the green bushes, it's time to give o'er. BLACK-EYED SUSAN, All in the Downs the fleet lay moor'd, The streamers waving in the wind, When black-eyed Susan came on board, Oh! where shall I my true love find ? Tell me, ye jovial sailors, tell me true, If my sweet William sails among your crew ? William, who high upon the yard, Rock'd with the billows to and fro, Soon her well-known voice he heard, He sighed, and cast his eyes below. The cord slides swiftly through his glowing hands, And quick as lightning on the deck he stands. O Susan, Susan, lovely dear! My vows shall ever true remain ; Let me kiss off that falling tear, We only part to meet again. Change as ye list, ye winds, my heart shall be The faithful compass that still points to thee. Though battle calls me from thy arms, Let not my pretty Susan mourn ; �7 Though cannons roar, yet safe from harms, William shall to his dear return ; Love turns aside the balls that round me fly, Lest precious tears should drop from Susan's eye The boatswain gave the dreadful word, The sails their swelling bosoms spread, No longer must she stay on board ; They kissed—she sighed—he hung his head. Her lessening boat unwilling rows to land, Adieu ! she cried, and waved her lily hand. THE SONG OF THE OLDEN TIME There's a song of the olden time, Falling sad o'er the ear, Like the dream of some village chime, Which in youth we lov'd to hear. And even amidst the grand and gay, When Music tries her gentlest art, I never hear so sweet a lay, Or one that hangs so round my heart, As that song of the olden time, Falling sad o'er the ear, Like the dream of some village chime Which in youth we lov'd to hear. And when all this life is gone— Even the hope lingering now, Like the last of the leaves left on Autumn's sear and faded bough— �8 'Twill seem as still those friends were near Who loved me in youth's early day, If in that parting hour I hear The same sweet notes—and die away To that song of the olden time, Breath'd like Hope's farewell strain, To say, in some brighter clime, Life and youth will shine again. ROY'S WIFE. Roy's wife of Aldivalloch, Roy's wife of Aldivalloch, Wat ye how she cheated me As I came o'er the braes of Balloch ? She vow'd, she swore she wad be mine, She said she lo'ed me best of ony ; But ah, the fickle, faithless queen, She's ta'en the carle and left her Johnnie. Roy's wife, &c. Oh she was a canty queen, And weel could dance the Highland walloch ; How happy I, had she been mine, Or I'd been Roy of Aldivalloch, Roy's wife, &c. Her hair sae fair, her een sae clear, Her wee bit mou' sae sweet and bonnie To me she ever will be dear, Though she's for ever; left her Johnnie. Roy's wife, &c. � https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/2b5dd93cf1725552562a89032c007de8.jpg 6b3e93e32222380025fc466eb1012613 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 1773 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 on title page of a tall ship at sea 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 081: Title-page illustration of a tall ship at sea. 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 Favourite Songs. The Sailor's Epitaph. Blue-Eyed Mary. The Song of the Olden Time. Black-Eyed Susan. Roy's Wife. Green Bushes. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9923417163505154">s0153b25</a> Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. The Sailor's Epitaph. Blue-Eyed Mary. The Song of the Olden Time. Black-Eyed Susan. Roy's Wife. Green Bushes. 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. 8 pages 16 cm Description An account of the resource 51 is printed at the bottom of the title-page. Woodcut #81: Illustration on title page of a tall ship at sea Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Aldivalloch, Scotland 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 ballads & songs # of Woodcuts: 1 Bib Context: title-page Chapbook Genre: ballads & songs Chapbook Publisher - Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Outdoor Scene Transportation: ship/boat(s) https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/4bad1cd6b58697c3cb6b37873308bbe0.pdf bb91cbd4edff8ceb8f3f3195da0a2b6b PDF Text Text T H E Siege of Carrick - Fergus: O R , Thurot's Defeat To w h i c h are added, I A N S W E R E D NO, NO. I THANK'D HIM FOR NOTHING. A S S U R E A S A G U N . B I L L B O B S T A Y. A L L O A H O U S E. G L A S G O W, P R I N T E DB Y J. & M. R O B E R T S O N , SA L T MA R K ET, 1801. �(2) THE S I E G E of CARRICK-FERGUS. F R o m D u n k i r k in France in the month of September, fitted out was a fleet, a n d away they did sail, A n d Monsieur T h u r o t being their only commander, they had for their headsman, were sure not t o fail. S o away they did steer, without dread or fear, they robbed and plund'red all ships t h a t they found, U n t i l that they came up by the coast of Ireland, and landed their men upon the Irish ground. I t was at Carrick-Fergus, t h e north of that k i n g d o m , they landed their men, & march'd up to their walls, Then cried out the brave Col'nel Jennings, my boys, let's salute t h e m with powder and balls. S o the battle began, and the guns they did rattle, and bravely they f o u g h t under J e n n i n g ' s c o m m a n d , Says he, Play a w a y , play on my brave boys, the Monsieur's the force of our fire cannot s t a n d . T h e town they did take without any resistance, the castle they thought was as easy like wise : T h e y came marching up in three grand divisions, but guarded it was by the brave Irish boys. T h e y kept constant fire, and made them retire, till their ammunition entirely was done ; T h e n aloud he did s a y , M y boys, l e t ' s away, and we'll sally out upon them sword in hand. B u t then says our General, H o w can we defend it ? for to make a sally, it is but in vain ; A s our ammunition is entirely expended, therefore we'll submit and good terms obtain : F o r plainly you see, for one there is three, therefore it is better to capitulate ; I f they take it by s t o r m , then by the law of arms, death without mercy shall sure be our fate. �( 3) S o t h e Monsieurs obtained possession of C a r r i c k , where they lay a snorting and d r i n k i n g a while ; T h e people they sorely did ransack and plunder, and hoisted it all on board the Beleisle. B u t brave Elliot met them, not away he would let them, but made them yield back their ill g o t t e n s t o r e ; So Monsieur laments in the deepest condition, for now they can b r a g of their Thurot no more. L e t us praise brave Elliot who gained this action, and s i n g t o his praise in t h e joyfulest song, T h a t we of our foes have g o t satisfaction, and T h u r o t lies r o t t i n g near the Isle of M a n . T h e i r general is wounded, their schemes are confounded, T h e bold British T a r s they can never w i t h s t a n d ; T h e fire of the fierce and bold British L i o n , appeared to t h e m under brave C a p t a i n Bland. W h a t cheer cousin T e a d y , y o u ' r e welcome t o D u b l i n , what news have you b r o u g h t f r o m the county Kildare, B y my shoul cousin J o h n n y none strange but w h a t ' s common is there any news about t h e Spanish w a r ? O hon, by m y shoul cous. t h e Dons are for f i g h t i n g , they swear that in Ireland their troops they will land, T h e y ' r e boasting & b r a g g i n g t h e y boldly do t h r e a t e n , t h e tower of L o n d o n t o t a k e sword in h a n d . C o m e down cousin T e a d y t o t h e sign of the D r a p e r , u n t i l I will treat y o u with one p i t c h e r of Booze ; I t s h e a r t y young man come here with the paper, is there ever a packet to day in the news ? Y e s , there's death in one hand, no mercy in the other, bloody news & express just arriv'd from Whitehall ; B y my shoul cousin Johnny I believe they're coming, the man he cries out w e l l be press'd one and all. B y my shoul cousin John if the Spaniards invade us, and near my own rig of potatoes should come, B y my shoul with my flail their bones I'll be thrashing, ev'ry yard from the Corough till I drive them home. �(4) T h e r e is Tullogh & Reaman, with O u r e y & Yeaman, when they hear of the news quite crazey will run ; T h e r e is Darby O'Cullen I'II wager a shilling, be will run quite mad about Mucky Felam his son. Pish, silence you blockhead no more of that language, but drink to us first boys and read what is there, D i d you hear any news about my cousin Donald, last Easter come a twelvemonth he listed in Kildare. A n d you know cousin Johnny he was a stout fellow, give him but a lump of shelaly in's hand, W i t h fifteen gallons of good whisky in's belly, de'il a fifty-five Spaniards before him could stand. So now for to bring my song to conclusion, let us drink a health to our officers all ; T o noble Col'nel Jennings, likewise Bland our Captain, and never forgetting the brave M r . Hall. L e t ' s be blythe and jolly, and drown melancholy, so merrily let us rejoice and sing; Come fill up your bowls all ye loyal souls, and drink a health to great George our King. So let them fight, rangle and riot, myself will be quiet, and I wish every man may get his own right, Success to old Ireland with long peace and plenty, with three meals a day and supper at night. I T A N S W E R E D N O, N O. H a t I might not be plagu'd with the nonsense of I promised my mother again and again, (men, T o say as she bids me wherever I go, A n d to all that they ask, or would have, tell'em N o . I really believe I have frighten'd ascore: T h e y ' l l want to be with me, I warrant no more A n d I own I'm not sorry for serving them so ; Were the same thing to do, I again would say No. ; �(5) For a shepherd I like, with more courage and art, W o n ' t leave me alone, though I bid him depart Such questions he puts since I answer him so, T h a t he makes me mean Yes, t h o ' my words are still No, ; H e ask'd, did I hate Him, or think him too plain; ( L e t me die if he is hot a clever young swain,) If he ventur'd A kiss, if I from him would go, T h e n he press'd my young lips, while I blush'd & said No. H e ask'd If I ' d have If I meant I faulter'd, if my heart to another was gone ; him to leave me, or cease to love on ; my life long to answer him so : and sigh'd, and reply'd to him, No. T h i s morning an end to his courtship he made Will Phillia live longer a virgin ? he said; I f I press you to church, will you seruple to go I n a hearty good humour I answer'd, No, no. I THANK'D ; ? H I M FOR N O T H I N G . O N E morning young Roger accosted me thus, Come here, pretty maiden and give me a buss, O h ! fellow, said I, mind your plough and your cart ; Yes, I thank you for nothing, t h a n k you for nothing, thank you for nothing with all my heart. Well, H e gave me a box with a paper of snuff; I took it, I own, yet had still so much art T o cry, T h a n k you for nothing with all my heart. H e sa id, if so be, he might make me his wife— Indeed I was never so dash'd in my life ; Yet could not help laughing to see the fool start, W h e n I t h a n k ' d him for nothing with all my heart. Soon after, however, he gain'd my consent, A n d with him on Sunday to chapel I went, But said 'twas my goodness more than his desert, N o t to thank him for nothing with all my heart. then, to be sure, h �6 T h e Parson c r y ' d , C h i l d , you must a f t e r me say, A n d then t a l k ' d of h o n o u r , and love, and obey B u t faith, when his Reverence came t o t h a t part, T h e r e I t h a n k ' d him for n o t h i n g with all my h e a r t . A t n i g h t our brisk neighbours thes t o c k i n gwould t h r o w I must not tell tales, b u t I k n o w w h a t I know Y o u n g Roger confesses I cur'd all his smart; A n d I t h a n k ' d him for s o m e t h i n g w i t h all my heart. S AS SURE AS A ; ; : GUN. A Y S Colin t o me, I've a t h o u g h t in my head, I know a y o u n g damsel I ' m g o i n g t o wed, I know a y o u n g damsel I ' m g o i n g to w e d : S o please you, q u o t h I , and whene'er it is done, You'll quarrel and part a g a i n , as sure as a g u n ! A s sure as a g u n , as sure as a g u n , You'll quarrel and p a r t again, as sure as a g u n ! A n d so when y o u ' r e married ( p o o r amorous w i g h t ! ) Y o u ' l l bill it a n d coo it from m o r n i n g till n i g h t ; e t c . B u t trust me, good Colin, you'll find it bad f u n , Instead of which you'll fight & scratch as sure as a g u n ! A s sure as a g u n , as sure as a g u n , Instead of which you'll fight & scratch as sure as a g u n ! B u t shou'd she prove fond of her own dearest love, A n d you be as souple, and soft as her glove ; e t c . Yet Y o u ' r e fasten'd t o her apron string as sure as a g u n ! A s sure as a g u n , as sure as a g u n , Y o u ' r e fasten'd t o her apron string as sure as a gun Suppose it was you, t h e n , said he, with a leer, Y o u wou'd not serve me so, I ' m certain, my dear; e t c . I n t r o t h I r e p l y ' d , I will answer for none — B u t do as other women d o — a s sure as a g u n ! A s sure as a g u n , as sure as a g u n , But do o t h e rwomendo—assureasagun! be she a s ! �7 B I L L B O B S T A Y. T I g h t lads have I sail'd w i t h , but none e'ersos i g h t l y , A s honest Bill Bobslay, so kind and so t r u e : H e ' d sing like a mermaid, and foot it so lightly, T h e forecastle's pride, the d e l i g h t of the crew : B u t poor as a b e g g a r , and often in t a t t e r s H e went, t h o ' his fortune was kind without end. F o r money, c r y ' d Bill, & for them there sort of matters, F o r money, c r y ' d Bill, & for them there sort of matters, W h a t ' s t h e good o n ' t d ' y e see, b u t t o succour a friend? T h e r e ' saNipcheese,the purser,by grinding & squeezing, F i r s t I p l u n d ' r i n g , then leaving t h e ship like a rat ; T h e eddy of F o r t u n e stands on a s t i f f breeze in, A n d mounts, fierce as fire, a d o g vain in his h a t . M y b a r k , tho' hards t o r m son life's ocean should rock her, T h o ' she roll in misfortune, and pitch end for end, N o , never shall Bill keep a shot in the locker, etc. W h e n by h a n d i n g it o u t he can succour a friend. L e t them t h r o w out their wipes, & cry, s p i g h t ofthecrosses, A n d forgetful of toil t h a t so hard'ly they bore, T h a t " S a i l o r s at sea earn their money like horses, "To squader it idly likeassesonshore" Such lubbers their awe would coil up, could they measure B y their feeling, t h e gen'rous delight without end, T h a t gives birth to us tars to that truest of pleasure, T h e h a n d i n g our rhino to succour a friend, (etc. W h y , what's all this nonsense they talk of and pother A l l about 'Rights of men,' what a plague are they at I f they means that each man to's messmate's a brother, W h y , the lubberly s w a b s ! ev'ry fool can tell that. T h e rights of us Britons we know to be loyal, I n our country's defence our last moments to spend, T o fight up to the ears to protect the blood royal, T o fight up to the ears to protect the blood royal, T o be true to our wives—and t o succour a friend. �A L L O A H O U S E T H espringtimereturns,&clothesthegreenplains, A n d Alloa shines more chearful and gay ; T h e lark tunes his t h r o a t , and the neighbouring swains, S i n g merrily round: me whereeverIstray; B u t Sandy no more appears to my view N o spring time me chears, no music can charm, He's gone, and I fear me f o r ever adieu ! A d i e u , every pleasure this bosom can warm ! ! O Alloa house ! how much art thou chang'd ! H o w silent, h o w dull to me is each grove ! A l o n e I here wander where once we both r a n g ' d , A l a s ! where to please me my Sandy once strove ! H e r e S a n d y I heard the tales t h a t you told ; Here listen'd too fond, whenever you sung Am I turn'd less fair, then that you are turn'd cold? O r foolish, believ'd a false, fluttering tongue; : So spoke the fair maid ; when sorrows keen p a i n , A n d shame, her last f a u l t ' r i n g accents supprest : F o r F a t e at that moment brought back her dear swain, W h o heard, and, with rapture, his Nellyaddrest: M y Nelly ! my fair, I come ; O my Love N o power shall thee tear again from my arms, A n d , N e l l y ! no more thy f o n d shepherd reprove, W h o knows all thy worth, and adores all thy charms. She heard ; and new joy shot t h r o ' her soft f r a m e , A n d will y o u , my love ! be true ? she r e p l y ' d , A n d live I to meet my fond shepherd the same O r dream I t h a t Sandy will make me his bride ONelly!Ilivetofindtheestillkind; Still true to thy swain, andlovelyastrue: Then adieu ! t o all sorrow : what soul issoblind As not to live happy for ever with you? G L A S G O W, Printed by J. & M. Robertson, S a l t m a r k e t , 1801. ? ? � https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/61492dcc18a637be084ea54d211f83d0.jpg 4c8fdfbd2fad7dd3b9e6a1c44fd34ebe 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 3308 Width 2009 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 The Siege of Carrick-Fergus: or, Thurot's Defeat. To which are added, I Answered No, No. I Thank'd Him For Nothing. As Sure As A Gun. Bill Bobstay. Alloa House. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9923416303505154">s0154b20</a> Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. Thurot's Defeat. I Answered No, No. I Thank'd Him For Nothing. As Sure As A Gun. Bill Bobstay. Alloa House Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1801 Extent The size or duration of the resource. 8 pages 15 cm Description An account of the resource Woodcut image of ships (3) in battle on t.p. Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Dunkirk, France Carrickfergus, Northern Ireland Isle of Man Kildare, Ireland City of Westminster, London, England Dublin, Ireland Subject The topic of the resource Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow Ballads and songs War Ireland Carrickfergus (Northern Ireland) -- History -- Siege, 1760 Thurot, Francois, 1727-1760 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 Glagow 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> Type The nature or genre of the resource ballad 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 by J. & M. Robertson https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/38c74f29f423a2d1f433670a98943cec.pdf 8cdc1267addf6bbd0977c4939de77fc4 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/ae78d5004d5cba3eddc665ca2fbf6c99.jpg 9b58fb1d084ad75d48c314b248857fe8 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/9d2c437f48d182cb568775fd4737d67f.jpg ce4c606db48f9c454296f008bdc4fd1f https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/df1f5240ca9c386221be8a78ea0086b5.jpg 4fc4eb42c5d474525f1d1898ffd2e56e https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/275ae168d079bd5c3c7ab6a975a825f2.jpg d541c7568feb1457e6300628d7d43dc2 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/18f78740d1b572503f270d6ecba92b63.jpg 43de76d10869f24ac1a04c8d6cc55e2d https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/d13c511c09c22133e9077311638828a1.jpg 803cc275133bc2c54396545b132bce05 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/ffa44cadfde95b9070998130ae831221.jpg de216c9fc2ae153f2b827bb0d7eaa2be https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/9aae68fb1d629065637f9d55566bb9ce.jpg a1cee13188a24bdf55dd292a31a0bc49 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 Sair sair was my heart; to which are added, The hero's orphant girls, The lass o' Ballochmyle, Allister M' Allister, The Highland Plaid. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1826 Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="vhttps://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9953133973505154">s0042b27</a> <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9923407963505154">s0170b13</a> Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. The hero's orphant girls, The lass o' Ballochmyle Allister M' Allister The Highland Plaid. Extent The size or duration of the resource. 8 pages 15 cm Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Ballochmyle, Ayrshire, Scotland Subject The topic of the resource Ballads and songs Chapbooks - Scotland - Stirling Courtship and Marriage Highlands 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> Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. Chapbook #13 in a bound collection of 37 chapbooks (s0042b27) 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 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/f473d0673939b572790013def412312d.jpg 1096a2aaf5627432afe2417b89e59aa9 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 2835 Width 2009 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/db2ccc6597cf860ffbef1177478e6b48.pdf fe1089575d7236372bb04c4aa0a04b91 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 The Sailor's Tragedy; to which are added, Highland Mary. The Irish Wedding. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1825 Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9923407683505154">s0170b41</a> Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. Highland Mary The Irish Wedding. Extent The size or duration of the resource. 8 pages 15 cm Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Ireland Subject The topic of the resource Ballads and songs Chapbooks - Scotland - Stirling 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 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 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/c4b85397ce9e25424f5e5e33a70a1fcd.pdf c30854c7eab7bec61b9265a6106a0773 PDF Text Text W A T T Y AND MEG, OR, T H E W I F E RECLAIMED ; TOGETHER W I T H HABBIE SIMPSON AND HIS WIFE, OR, A NEW WAY OF RAISING THE WIND DONALD AND HIS DOG; ; THE TEETOTALER; THE LOSS O' THE PACK; JOHN TAMSON'S CART; T A K I N ' I T O U T O' H I S M O U T H . PAISLEY: PUBLISHED BY W A L T E R WILSON & SON. WEST ��WATTY AND MEG. the frosty winds were blawing, Deep the snaw had wreathed the ploughs ; Watty, wearied a' day sawing, Daunert doun to Mungo Blues'. KEEN Dryster Jock was sitting cracky, Wi' Pate Tamson o' the Hill; " Come awa'," quo' Johnny, " Watty, Haith we'se hae anither gill." Watty, glad to see Jock Jabos, And sae mony neibors roun', Kicket frae his shoon the snawba's, Syne ayont the fire sat doun. Owre a board wi' bannocks heapit, Cheese and stoups and glasses stood; Some were roarin', ithers sleepit, Ithers quietly chew'd their cude. Jock was selling Pate some tallow, A' the rest a racket hell; A' but Watty, wha, puir fallow, Sat and smoket by himsel'. Mungo filled him up a toothfu', Drank his health and Meg's in ane ; Watty, puffing oot a mouthfu', Pledged him wi' a dreary grane. �4 " Trouth your chafts are fa'in in ! Something's wrang—I'm vexed to see you— Gudesake ! but ye're desperate thin !" What's the matter, Watty, wi' you " Ay,' quo' Watty, " things are altered, But it's past redemption now; L—d ! I wish I had been haltered When I married Maggy Howe ! I've been poor, and vexed, and raggy, Tried wi' troubles no that sma; Them I bore—but marrying Maggy, Laid the capstane o' them a'. Night and day she's ever yelping, Wi' the weans she ne'er can gree ; When she's tired wi' perfect skelping, Then she flees like fire on me. See ye, Mungo ! when she'll clash on Wi' her everlasting clack, Whiles I've had my nieve in passion Lifted up to break her back !" " O, for gudesake, keep frae cuffets," Mungo shook his head and said; " Weel I ken what sort o' life it's ; After Bess and I were kippled, Soon she grew like ony bear; Brak' my shins, and when I tippled, Harl't oot my very hair. For a wee I quietly knuckled, But when naething would prevail, Up my claes and cash I buckled — 'Bess, for ever fare-ye-weel !' Ken ye, Watty, how I did ? �5 Then her din grew less and less aye, Haith I gart her change her tune; Now, a better wife than Bessie Never stept in leather shoon. Try this, Watty—when you see her Raging like a roaring flood, Swear that moment that ye'll lea her, That's the way to keep her good." Laughing, sangs, and lasses' skirls, Echoed now out through the roof; " Done !" quo' Pate, and syne his erls Nailed the Dryster's wauked loof. In the thrang o' stories telling, Shaking hauns and ither cheer, Faith ! a chap comes on the hallan, " Mungo, is our Watty here ?" Maggy's weel-kent tongue and hurry Darted through him like a knife, Up the door flew—like a fury In came Watty's scaul'ing wife. " Nasty, gude-for-naething being ! O ye snuffey, drucken sow ! Bringing wife and weans to ruin, Drinking here wi sic a crew ! Devil nor your legs were broken, Sic a life nae flesh endures, Toiling like a slave to sloken You, ye dyvor, and your whores. Rise, ye drucken beast o' Bethel; Drink's your nicht and day's desire; Rise, this precious hour, or faith I'll Fling your whisky i' the fire !" �6 Watty heard her tongue unhallowed, Pay'd his groat wi' little din, Left the house, while Maggy followed. Flyting a' the road behin'. Fowk frae every door came lamping, Maggy curst them ane and a'; Clappet wi' her hands, and stamping, Lost her bauchles in the snaw. Hame, at length, she turned the gavel, Wi' a face as white's a cloot, Raging like a very devil, Kicking stools and chairs aboot. " Hang you, sir ! I'll be your death ; Little hauds my hand—confound ye But I'll cleave you to the teeth." Watty, wha, 'midst this oration, Eyed her whiles, but durstna speak, Sat like patient Resignation, Trembling by the ingle cheek. Sad his wee drap brose he sippit, Maggy's tongue gaed like a bell, Quietly to his bed he slippit, Sighing aften to himsel'— " Nane are free frae some vexation, Ilk ane has his ills to dree, But through a' the hale creation Is a mortal vext like me?" A' nicht lang he row'd and gaunted, Sleep or rest he couldna' tak ; Maggy aft wi' horror haunted, Mum'ling started at his back. Ye'il sit wi' your limmers round you, �7 Soon as e'er the morning peepit, Up raise Watty, waefu' chiel, Kiss'd his weanies while they sleepit, Waukened Meg, and sought fareweel. " Fareweel, Meg !—and O ! may Heaven Keep you aye within his care : Watty's heart ye've lang been grievin', Now he'll never fash ye mair. Happy could I been beside you, Happy, baith at morn and e'en : A' the ills did e'er betide you, Watty aye turned out your frien'. But ye ever like to see me Vext and sighing, late and air: Fareweel, Meg ! I've sworn to lea' thee, So thou'll never see me mair." Meg, a' sabbing, sae to lose him, Sic a change had never wist, Held his hand close to her bosom, While her heart was like to burst. " O my Watty, will ye lea' me, Frien'less, helpless, to despair ? O ! for this ae time forgie me : Never will I vex you mair." " Ay ! ye've aft said that, and broken A' your vows ten times a-week, No, no, Meg ! see, there's a token Glittering on my bonnet cheek. Owre the seas I march this morning Listed, tested, sworn and a, Forced by your confounded girning— Farewell, Meg ! for I'm awa'." �8 Then poor Maggy's tears and clamour Gushed afresh, and louder grew, While the weans, wi' mournfu' yamour, Round their sabbing mither flew. " Through the yirth I'll waun'er wi' you— Stay, O Watty ! stay at hame; Here, upon my knees, I'll gie you Ony vow ye like to name. See your puir young lammies pleadin'; Will ye gang and break our heart 1 No a house to put oor head in, No a friend to tak our part !" Ilka word came like a bullet, Watty's heart begoud to shake; On a kist he laid his wallet, Dighted baith his een and spake :— " If ance mair I could by writing, Lea' the sogers and stay still, Wad you swear to drap your flyting ?" " Yes, O Watty, yes I will." " Then," quo' Watty, " mind, be honest; Aye to keep your temper strive ; Gin ye break this dreadfu' promise Never mair expect to thrive. Marget Howe, this hour ye solemn Swear by everything that's gude, Ne'er again your spouse to scaul' him, While life warms your heart and bluid. That ye'll ne'er in Mungo's seek me, Ne'er put 'drucken' to my name, Never put at e'ening steek me, Never gloom when I come hame. �9 That yell ne'er, like Bessy Miller, Kick my shins or rug my hair ; Lastly, I'm to keep the siller This, upon your soul, you swear ?" "O—h! " quo' Meg ; " aweel, quo' Watty, Farewell! faith I'll try the seas : " O stand still ! " quo' Meg, and grat aye ; " Ony, ony way ye please." Maggy syne, because he prest her, Swore to a' thing owre again : Watty lap, and danced, and kist her, Wow, but he was wondrous fain. Down he threw his staff victorious, Aff gaed bonnet, claes and shoon, Syne below the blankets, glorious, Held anither Hinney-Moon! THE LOSS O' THE PACK. A TRUE TALE. ; BOUT-GATES I hate, quo' girning Maggy Pringle, Syne harled Watty, greeting, through the ingle. Since this fell question seems sae lang to hing on, In twa-three words I'll gie ye my opinion :— " I wha stand here, in this bare scoury coat, Was ance a packman, wordy mony a groat : I've carried packs as bigs your meikle table, I've scarted pats, and sleepit in a stable ; Sax pounds I wadna for my pack ance ta en, And I could bauldly brag 'twas a' mine ain. �10 Aye ! thae were days indeed, that gart me hope Aiblins, through time, to warsle up a shop : And as a wife aye in my noddle ran, I ken'd my Kate wad grapple at me than. O Kate was past compare ! sic cheeks ! sic een ! Sic smiling looks, were never, never seen, Dear, dear I lo'ed her, and whane'er we met, Pleaded to have the bridal-day but set : Stappit her pouches fu' o' preens and laces, And thought mysel' weel paid wi' twa-three kisses: Yet still she put it aff frae day to day, And aften kindly in my lug wad say, " Ae half year langer is nae unco stop, We'll marry then, and syne set up a shop." O, Sir, but lasses' words are saft and fair, They soothe our griefs, and banish ilka care ; Wha wadna toil to please the lass he lo'es A lover true minds this in a he does. Finding her mind was thus sae firmly bent, And that I couldna get her to relent, There was nought left, but quietly to resign, To heeze my pack for ae lang hard campaign; And as the Highlands was the place for meat, 1 ventured there in spite of wind and weet. Cauld now the Winter blew and deep the snaw For three haill days incessantly did fa'; Far in a muir, amang the whirling drift, Whar nought was seen but mountains and the lift, I lost my road, and wandered mony a mile, Maist dead wi' cauld and hunger, fright and toil. Thus wand'ring, east and west, I kend na' where, My mind o'er come wi' gloom and black despair, Wi' a fell ringe, I plunged at ance, forsooth, Down through a wreath o' snaw, up to my mouth; Clean o'er my head my precious wallet flew, But whar it gaed, Lord kens, I never knew. ? �11 What great misfortunes are pour'd down on some, I thought my fearfu' hinder en' was come ; Wi' grief and sorrow was my soul o'ercast, Ilk breath I drew was like to be my last, For aye the mair I warsled roun' and roun', I fand mysel' aye stick the deeper down; Till ance at length, wi' a prodigious pull, I drew my poor cauld carcase frae the hole. Lang, lang I sought, and graippit for my pack Till nicht and hunger forced me to come back. For three lang hours I wandered up and down, Till chance, at last, conveyed me to a town; There, wi' a trembling hand, I wrote my Kate A sad account of a' my luckless fate; But bade her aye be kind, and no despair Since life was left, I soon wad gather mair; Wi' whilk, I hoped, within a towmond's date, To be at hame, and share it a' wi' Kate. Fool that I was, how little did I think That love would soon be lost for fau't o' clink. The loss of fair-won wealth, though hard to bear, Afore this—ne'er had power to force a tear. I trusted time wad bring things round again, And Kate, dear Kate, wad then be a' mine ain, Consoled my mind, in hopes o' better luck, But O! what sad reverse !—how thunderstruck ! When ae black day brang word frae Rab my brither, That Kate was cried, and married on anither. Though a' my friends, and ilka comrade sweet At ance, had drapped cauld dead at my feet; Or though I'd heard the last day's dreadfu' ca', Nae deeper horror on my heart could fa' : I cursed myself I cursed my luckless fate, I grat—and sobbing, cried—O Kate ! O Kate ! �12 Frae that day forth, I never mair did weel, Bat drank, and ran headforemost to the deil. MY siller vanished, far frae hame I pined, But Kate for ever ran across my mind; In her were a' my hopes—these hopes were vain, And now—I'll never see her like again. Twas this, Sir President, that gart me start, Wi' meikle grief and sorrow at my heart, To gie my vote, frae sad experience, here, That disappointed love is waur to bear, Ten thousand times, than loss o' warld's gear." DONALD AND HIS DOG; OR, THE ROBBER OUTWITTED. twa hills that tower'd up to the clouds, Clad owre wi' fragrant heather, bent, and woods ; 'Mang steeps, and rocks, and waters fallin,' Was Highland Donald's humble dwallin'. Aroun' his hut, beneath his eye, Fed 'bout a score o' stirks and kye; Whilk, wi' his wife and family, were His pleasure, and peculiar care. Amang sic barren heights and howes, Where grain, for food, but scanty grows, His family were but sparely fed ; Richt coarse and barely were they clad. Yet he was wi' his lot content, Except when pinched to pay his rent. Indeed, he wi' his laird for years Had, 'gainst his will been in arrears, For whilk he had to thole the snarl And threats o' the tyrannic carl, Till Donald's independent spirit Nae langer was resolved to bear it ; And dangers was resolved to scorn, BETWEEN �13 Either to make a spoon, or spoil a horn. He shrewd and clever was I trew, Spoke Gaelic weel, and Lawlan' too ; And as he was an honest chiel, By a; his neighbours liket weel, Ae nicht, contriving what to do, To keep himsel' aboon the broo, A plan he model'd in his head, And thus it down before them laid :— In twa weeks hence, in England, there Would be a great black-cattle fair, Whar kye, he learned frae men o' dealin's, Gae double price gi'en in the Highlands'; Now, if wi' what he could himsel' Spare safely frae his flock to sell, They would mak' up a drove amang them, He pledged his word he wouldna' wrang them; But render at his coming back A just account o' ilka plack. So ilka ane agreed to gie Out o' his flock, some twa, some three, Till he a handsome drove collecket, And to the south his way direcket. He mounted was upon a pony ; A dog his servant was and crony ; And by his side, like ony lord, There hung a braid sheep-headed sword, No as a weapon o' offence, But 'case o' need for self-defence ; For, they wha liked, rich or poor, Might wear a sword, in days o' yore. Baith air and late, baith wat and dry, The dog and Donald drave the kye. At length wi muckle toil and care, A' safe and sound, they reached the fair. The kye were sauld, the price was paid ; 'Twas down in yellow guineas laid. The gowd he in his purse soon steeket : The price was mair than he expecket, �14 Whilk raised his heart, and I wat weel, He thought himsel' a clever chiel. Instead o' Donald lounging careless About the fair, to keek at ferlies ; To booze wi' limmers, or to gamble, Or spend his cash in ony ramble; He wisely mounts his Highland shelty, And taks the road on, helty skelty. As he rode on, and cracked his whup, A gentleman cam riding up, Who bade good-day, wi' friendly air, And speer'd if he'd been at the fair; So Donald, without vain parade, Returned him thanks, and said he had, And a' his business, tap and tail o't, When at the fair, he tauld the hale o't. Richt crouse they grew wi' ane anither, And mony stories tauld tae ither, 'Bout kings, and priests, and great commanders ; The wars in Britain, France, and Flanders. When mony miles they'd rode, in league, They in a hollow reached a brig, Across a burn, that ran wi' ease, Down through a glen adorned wi' trees. Now, 'twas a bonnie summer day, And a' the fields were clad, and gay, They stopt, and drapt their tales and jokin', Their horses' lowing drouth to slocken, And 'greed some little time should pass, To let them rest, and eat some grass. As Donald and his comrade sat Upon the green, resumed their chat. And Donald's dog, before their feet, Lay stretched and panting wi' the heat, And Donald's sword whilk he did carry Beneath his hodden-gray Bavary, The gentleman's attention seized, Wha begged a sight o't, if he pleased, Whilk Donald drew, an' frankly gave him; �15 In confidence he'd not deceive him. The billy thanked him for the sight o't, And praised the beauty, size, and weight o't; Syne spiered at Donald, on his word, If maist he trusted—dog or sword; Suppose the case, that ony pad, Should seek the money that he had. ' The sword,' quo Donald, ' I can wield, And should sic wretch, by road or field E'er daur demand frae me a shillin', I'd plung't wi' freedom in the villain. Yet ne'er the less for a my cracks o't. I wouldna gie my dog for sax o't, Wi' that, the fallow, at a word, Chapt aff the dog's head wi' the sword, Syne pointed it to Donald's heart, And swore he wi' his cash should part, Or instantly, wi' stabs and cuts, He'd pierce his heart and rip his guts. 'O! O !' says Donald, ' spare my life, For sake o' my poor weans and wife ; Ha'e, there's the cash, but wi' what shame And grief must I face friends at hame ! They'll no believe a word o't either! Lord help's, I'm ruined a' thegither !' Stop,' says the fellow, ' cease your crying, Your friends will not suspect you're lying; They will believe what you say to them, From evidence that you shall gie them. From every one I rob, I've credit, By giving me his hand I did it; My comrades and I together, This token give to one another. One of your hands must go with me ; Come, take your choice, which shall it be ?' ' My dog is gane, and darling purse; And now my hand ! still worse and worse. Ha'e mercy on me,' Donald prays, 'I'll be a beggar a' my days.' �16 ' No mercy for you,' cried the wretch ; ' Down with it, I'll make quick despatch.' ' Weel, weel,' says Donald, 'I submit, But ae request grant if it's fit, That is, if my right hand must go, Driv't aff at ae most desperate blow ; No, on the saft green there, perhaps, Ye'll pine me sair, by several chaps ; But ye'll at ance, mair siccar do't On yonder smooth tree's spreading root.' Poor Donald's prayer was heard ; he then Made bare his left hand shackle bane, And on the tree root laid it quaking ; The robber now his aim was taking. Wi' baith hands raised the vengefu' whittle, And as he struck wi' awfu' ettle, Sly Donald slipt his arm ajee, And firm the sword stack in the tree. ' Ha'e at you now, you cruel wretch !' Quo' Donald, ' I am now your match.' Wi' that he seized him by the collar Gie'd him a jerk that gart him holler, His Highland blood boiled in a passion, He gie'd his face a horrid bashin ; Syne drew his cravat round sae tight, That he was strangled maist outright. By these means Donald man'd to mak His hand secure ahint his back, Syne on the beast he put the billy, Wi's feet tied underneath its belly. The dog, whilk Donald mourned fu' sore, A frightfu' sight o' reeking gore, He on ahint the fallow placed Across the hurdies o' the beast. Syne Donald's triumph to evince, He mounts his beast as proud's a prince, Brandish'd the sword and dar'd the blade, To move his hands, feet, tongue, or head— That if he did, he warned him now, �17 Up to the hilt he'd run him through. Sae, on the road they trudged alang, And Donald crooned a Highland sang. They reached the toon, folk were surprised, The robber soon was recognised ; The magistrates there brawly kent him, For mair than ance he'd been fornent them. For mony years, his deeds o' horror Had kept baith far and near in terror. For whilk, whae'er would apprehend him, And to the nearest prison send him, Would be entitled to regard, And fifty guineas o' reward, Whilk Donald got, in word and deed. NEW WAY OF RAISING THE WIND; OR, HABBIE SIMPSON AND HIS WIFE. [This highly humourous and truly Scottish production celebrates an adventure of the renowned Habbie Simpson, which actually occurred. Habbie appears to have been rather a privileged character, for besides being the best piper in the west country, he was possessed of many eccentricities, the oddity and originality of which always rendered him a welcome and amusing companion. That he was regarded as no common character may be inferred from the fact that a statue of him, pipes and all, was erected in a prominent niche of the steeple of Kilbarchan, his native village, where it yet stands a very significant testimony of the esteem in which he was held.] I pit nae doubt but ye've a' heard tell o' Habbie Simpson, the piper o' Kilbarchan, but I'm no thinking ye ever heard the story that I'm gaun to tell ye �18 about him and his wife, Janet. Weel, ye see, it sae happened that Habbie, like mony mae now-a-days, was gayen fond o' a wee drap o' the blue, and as the story gangs, sae was his wife, so that it geyan often happened that when Habbie yokit the fuddle, Janet she yokit it tae. Noo, it's an auld saying, and a geyan true ane, that when a caunel is lichtit at baith ends, it sune burns dune, and it was sae verified in the present case; for Habbie waukened ae morning after a hard fuddle, and says to Janet— ' Rise, woman, and see if ye can get me half-a-gill, for, oh ! my head is like to split.' 'Half-a-gill!' quo Janet; ' whaur wad I get it when there's no a plack in the house ? and as for takin't on, ye ken that's clean out o' the question, so ye maun just lie still and thole the best way ye can.' ' Oh, Janet! ' cries Habbie again, ' you're no amiss at scheming—is there nae way ava ve can think on to raise the wind ?' ' I'll tell ye what I'll do,' quo Janet ; ' I'll awa to the Laird o' Johnstone, and I'll tell him that ye're deid, and as you're a great favourite o' his, I'm sure I'll get something frae him to help tae bury ye.' ' Od, but that will do grand,' quo Habbie. Sae up Janet gets, and awa to the Laird's house, when, ringing the bell, the door was opened by the lady, who, seeing Janet sae pitiful-looking, she says—' Keep us a' this day, is there onything wrang at hame that ye hae come here sae early in the morning ? ' Wrang,' quo Janet, dichtin' her een wi' the tail o' her apron, ' A's wrang thegither, my leddy. Isna oor Habbie deid !' ' Habbie deid !' quo the lady in surprise. ' A-weel-wat is he, my leddie,' quo Janet, ' and a sair trial it is to me, my leddie ; for there's no as muckle in the house, this morning, as would feed a sparrow; and whaur to get onything I'm sure I dinna ken. Oh dear ! oh dear ! that ever I should come to this o't.' ' Compose yourself,' quo the leddy, 'and come your wa's ben, and we'se see what can be done.' Sae, in gangs Janet wi' the lady, and gets a basket �19 wi' some biscuits and speerits, and ither articles needfu' for sic an occasion; and thanking the lady for her kindness, comes awa hame to Habbie fu' blythely, when doon they sat, nor did they rise till they made an end o' the contents o' the basket. Noo, as the auld sang says, the mair ye drink the drier ye turn; for they were nae sooner dune than Habbie says—' Losh, Janet, that's real guid ; can ye no get some mair o't ?' 'Na, na,' quo Janet, ' I hae played my turn already; it's your turn noo.' ' Oh, vera weel,' quo Habbie, ' if it's my turn noo, ye maun jist be deid next.' ' Ods, I hae nae objections,' quo she; ' sae awa ye gang, and let's see what ye can do.' Weel, awa gangs Habbie, and meeting the Laird jist coming hame frae a hunting party, he says—' This is a fine day, Laird.' ' A fine day, Habbie,' quo' the Laird; ' hoo's a wi' ye ? Are ye no coming up to play us a spring on the pipes the nicht ?' 'It wadna look very weel, Laird, for me to be playing on the pipes at your house, and my ain wife lying a corpse at hame.' ' What ! is Janet deid?' quo' the Laird. ' Atweel is she,' quo' Habbie; ' and I'm sure it couldna hae happened at a waur time, for there's neither meat nor siller in the house, and hoo to get her decently aneath the yird, I'm sure I dinna ken.' 'Dinna vex yoursel about that,' quo' the Laird, gi'en him some money; ' there's a trifle for you.' Habbie thanked the Laird for his kindness, bade him guid day, and cam hame geyan weel pleased wi' what he had gotten, and sends Janet oot wi' the bottle to get mair whisky to carry on the spree. In the meantime, hame gangs the Laird, whaur the first thing that he heard was, that Habbie Simpson was deid. ' Na, na,' quo he, ' It's no Habbie, it's only Janet.' 'It's Habbie,' quo' the leddy. 'Wasna Janet here this morning hersel and tell't me ? and didna she get awa some speerits and biscuits, as she said there was nothing in the house !' 'And didna I meet Habbie just as �20 I was coming hame, when he tell'd me that Janet was deid. But I see hoo it is—they are at their auld tricks again. But come, we'll awa' to Habbie's, and see what they're about. In the meantime, Habbie and Janet are fuddlin' in fine style, and lauchin' heartily at the way ta'en to raise the wind, when Janet cries—'Guid preserve us, Habbie, what's to be dune noo ! I declare if that's no the laird and the leddy, and they're coming straueht here !' ' I dinna ken,' quo' Habbie, ' what to do unless we are baith deid.' Sae in the bed they gaed, and they were nae sooner doon, than the laird and lady cam in, and seeing Habbie and Janet in bed, he says—' Waes me! isna that awfu' to see !—the man and wife baith deid ! But I'd gie five shillings this moment to ken which o' the twa dee't first.' The words were nae sooner out o' his mouth than up jumps Habbie, crying—4 It was me, Laird ; noo, gie me thefiveshillings.' It is needless to add that the Laird gied Habbie the money ; and mony a hearty laugh he had when he thought on the way Habbie and his wife had ta'en to Raise the Wind. THE W E S T KINTRA WEAVER TURNED TEETOTALER. [This celebrated Scottish story used to be told by the late John Drummond, with tremendous applause.] It's as fack as death, I'm maist burning wi' shame to haud up my head before sic a respectable company, particularly as my character, drawn in gey black colours, has been here before me; but as ye hae heard the first o't, and I hope the warst o't, I trust �21 that yell pay attention to, what remains o' my history, and yell be better able to judge o' the story through and through. Weel, fock, I'm the Kilbarchan weaver, Sawnie Perkar's uncle that got himsel' fon about a twalmonth syne, kicket up a rippet wi' the landlady, and twa or three mae that pretended to be my friends, but sat on my coat-tail a' that day; but what I'm maist anxious to inform you is this—I learned a lesson that I'll no soon forget, and the happy result has been, that frae that day to this, spirits o' ony kind hasna crossed my craig; and I'm proud to say't, that Janet Galbraith, my lawfu' married wife, has a' the credit o' the happy change. I own that I was foolish, very foolish ; and I daursay I might hae remained foolish tae this very day had it no been for the kind, the soothing, the winning gaet o' my ain wife Janet, wha addressed me in the following good-natured strain :— 'Robin,' quo' she 'Robin, mony an advice I hae gien ye, man, but your sair head and your toom pouch this morning show plainly that I hae laboured in vain ! Noo, I wad gie ye an advice, if ye wad but tak it man—it's done thousands guid that hae waded a heap deeper in the ditch than ever ye did. My simple request is this, Robin, that ye'll summon up a' your resolution, and join the Teetotalers !' Aweel fock, I was at the time labouring under an awfu' remorse o' conscience—a state o' mind weel named the horrors—when Janet's words fell on my lugs, and re-echoed the qualms o' the faithfu' monitor within. I saidna muckle at the time, but I assure ye I thocht hard; and I there and then determined, that as soon as the shaking o' my hand wad permit me to seart down my name, down it wad gang, and then if it should rain whisky, I wad put up my umbrella to keep it aff me ! Weel, I gaed awa aboot it at e'en and found out the secretary o' the Society, and I scarted down my name in round write, coorse eneugh to be seen on baith sides, and hurried hame to tell �22 the wife, Janet; and on hearing the news, she maist lap bank-height wi' joy; and noo the Saturday nichts are the happy reverse o' what they were in former days, for instead o' gaun hame the waur o' the base liquor, whisky, I gang hame wi' my siller jingling in my pouch, wi' my waft in the tae hand, and a sheep's head in the tither, and the trotters sticking oot o' every coat and waistcoat pouch like young kangaroos, and my head stuffed fu' o' temperance news, and my bonnet wi' as mony tracts on the same subject, as, if spread out, wad mak a gude Reformer's flag. Time wad fail me, folk, to tell ye a' the benefits o' the new system; but I was just anxious to appear amang ye for the double purpose o' redeeming my character, and recommending that cause to ithers that has been sic a wonderfu' blessing to m y s e l ' . ' ' JOHN TAMSON'S CART. " ' We're a' John Tamson's bairns'—that's an auld Scotch sayin', and a true yin. I kent John Tamson weel. He had strapping lads and lasses baith, and he lived in that part o' Glasgow that was remarkable for the march o' Sir William Wallace to attack the English General Percy. Ye'll be speiring whare's that. Weel, it's just the Brunt Barns. His next door neighbour was yin Will Galbraith, a coal carter, like himsel. So ae nicht, after a hard day's wark, he meets Will. ' Hech, Will, there's a gae cauld kind o' nicht. Hae ye ony objections tae a dram ?' 'No,' quo Will, 'whar will we gang ?' ' We'll just gang ower to Lucky Sourkail's.' Weel, they sat down, and they had ae dram after anither, till the proper corrective that aften parts gude company, �23 gard them rise—that's the bottom o' a toom pouch. 'Hech,' says John, 'I ll hae to be up before the sparrows, to gae wa' for a cart o' coals.' Weel, he was as gude's his word; he waukened frae the side o' Mrs Tamson, and yokes the horse geyan canny, and he's no lang till he's through Camlachie toll. But, faith, in that quiet part o' the road between Camlachie and Parkhead, John fa's fast asleep. But wha the devil should come by but Bauldy Baird, and he's a gey gleg kind o' a chiel—he disna like to let a gude opportunity slip out o' his hand. So he unyoked John's horse geyan canny, and he sets down the cart as canny. It happened to be Ru'glen Fair morning; and he kent weel whare he was taking his bargain till; so he left John driving his pigs to the market geyan comfortable. But as John suddenly fell asleep, he as suddenly wakened, and looking up wi' his ae e'e half opened, he looks first to the tae side o' the cart, and syne to the tither, and he cries ' Gor, I canna understan' the meaning o' this at a'. As the Laird M'Nab said when he cam' in at the winning-post at Perth races—" By the Lord, this is me now " ; but I canna exclaim wi' the Laird M'Nab,—for, by my faith, this is no me !—but there's ae thing I can see, that if I'm John Tamson, I've lost a horse; but if I'm no John Tamson, I've found a cart. But how will I find out this? I'll jist awa hame to the wife, for she settles a' my accounts; she'll settle this yin tae.' Weel, awa hame he comes, geyan briskly, and he's no lang till he's at his ain door; and he cries out, 'Am I John Tamson ?' Mrs. Tamson puts o'er her hand to find for honest John— 'Na, na,' quo she, 'ye're no John Tamson; he's awa to his wark twa or three hours syne.' ' Od, I'm glad o' that,' quo' he, 'for if I had been John Tamson, I would have lost a horse; but, as I'm no John Tamson, Lord, I've found a cart!'" �24 TAKIN' IT OUT O' HIS MOUTH. A placid minister, near Dundee, preaching about the prophet Jonah, said :— 'Ken ye, brethren, what fish it was that swallowed him ? Aiblins ye may think it was a shark; nae, nae, my brethren, it was nae shark; or aiblins ye may think it was a saumon; nae, nae, my brethren, it was nae saumon; or aiblins ye may think it was a dolphin ; nae, nae, my brethren, it was nae dolphin.' Here, an old woman, thinking to help her pastor out of a dead lift, cried out, ' Aiblins, Sir, it was a dunter' (the vulgar name of a species of whale common to the Scotch coast). 'Aiblins, Madam, ye're an auld witch for taking the word o' God out o' my mouth,' was the reply of the disappointed rhetorician. � https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/1f658d2ceaa8e25c004a64520d9ad0e9.jpg bffdc741f12cbd837cfe59c7c7d7fb57 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 3480 Width 2068 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 Watty and Meg, Or, The Wide Reclaimed; Together with Habbie Simpson and his wife, or, A new way of raising the wind; Donald and his dog; The West Kintra Weaver turned Teetotaler; The loss o' the pack; John Tamson's Cart; Takin' it out o' his mouth. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9923442923505154">s0217b88</a> Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. The Wide Reclaimed Habbie Simpson and his wife A new way of raising the wind Donald and his dog The West Kintra Weaver turned Teetotaler The loss o' the pack; John Tamson's Cart Takin' it out o' his mouth. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Wilson, Alexander, 1766-1813 Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource circa 1840 per National Library of Scotland Extent The size or duration of the resource. 24 pages 17 cm Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Kilbarchan, Renfrewshire, Scotland Subject The topic of the resource Ballads and songs Chapbooks - Scotland - Paisley 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 Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Paisley: Published by Walter Wilson & Son 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/6c06c7d6e5579d4b2f976622eb653d1c.jpg 11455594cf7bf79e186aeb4a604203c0 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 1770 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/9145a4b45847f8f4b80d5fb9a5bb32f9.pdf 65dd0506c9362e5f582102a1af45b4e7 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 The Battering Ram, Containing, Avarice and Priestcraft Exposed, in a letter addressed to a Glasgow preacher, who declared that the doctrine of the universal love of God was licentious, and a Dialogue occasioned by the general assembly's Petition for Dear Corn! &amp;c &amp;c Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1827 Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9953134493505154">s0231b06</a> Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. Dialogue occasioned by the general assembly's Petition for Dear Corn! Avarice and Priestcraft Exposed Extent The size or duration of the resource. 12&nbsp;pages Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. Chapbook #18 in a bound collection of 20 chapbooks Description An account of the resource Woodcut image of a bird carrying a banner with 'Finis' written on it on page 12. Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Jerusalem, Israel 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. 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 higher quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libasp@uoguelph.ca 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/2b14d66bbbf63601d71e7c2fffdb58d8.pdf c1b1b7bad7d2b5b2be3b19fae9605904 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/031ca9e345636e75a9cc610556e434ea.jpg a9b7d066426cffbda57077f62d2d0b81 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/. 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For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Woodcut 081: Title-page illustration of a tall ship at sea. 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 History of Paul Jones, The Pirate. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9953133963505154">s0098b48</a> <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9953134493505154">s0231b06</a> Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. <p>Life of Paul Jones</p> Black hole of Calcutta 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 Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. Chapbook #1 in a bound collection of 20 chapbooks (s0231b06) Chapbook #18 in a bound collection of 34 chapbooks (s0098b48) Description An account of the resource 101 is printed at the bottom of the title-page. Woodcut #81: Illustration on title page of a tall ship at sea Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Krikcudbright, Scotland Calcutta, India Firth of Forth, Scotland Subject The topic of the resource Crime Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow War Jones, John Paul , 1747-1792 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> Abstract A summary of the resource. This is the story of Paul Jones, a Scot who turned pirate early in life and who raided along the coast of Great Britain. Accounts are given of many of his attacks, including a letter purportedly written by an officer who observed his attacks on the Firth of Forth. This tale is followed by an account of an English company who are captured, imprisoned, and are ravaged by illness due to their inhumane treatment in India. 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 Type The nature or genre of the resource biography 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 Genre: ballads & songs Chapbook Publisher - Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Outdoor Scene Transportation: ship/boat(s)