7 10 639 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/82a0071030e4f8295f2b6166327f5b1d.pdf fa5f5dba728937f73474abbc8d025180 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/771beeb8f38ce46d7b2a3595f1184af2.jpg 46d2cc8d38248aa117d08b84bc2f292d https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/23aaebcedab9ff163f98bdb3af635132.jpg 9ff583bf42558049544740e58f373e4f https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/7a3db8b08eda45ac5f4391f0ad10c31d.jpg f832ad5311becc879243cb37791483a4 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/763c2f86b85be61514931ed1e1d1d7ca.jpg 02101decdc15d80a3def7102814ed247 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/ae48ce4466084124f6166ba95e026f8d.jpg f4432c76028e643c685d1cb1f1b98f18 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/42a5f60083cf76995d6cb37facab02fb.jpg cd1722baa008dd96bc78c9ce06f30e16 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/01ee8cbdd038f71cc9d20afc96014e95.jpg 4680aa991a9608fbeaa3b256eeca9b22 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/c3d0eac16d62cf6c958f3862e8b9e210.jpg 58b951f5810325fea345e4d27b7b6e5c 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 Pack's Address; to which is added The Loss of the Pack. 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/alma9953133973505154">s0042b27</a> Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. The Loss of the Pack Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. Chapbook #12 in a bound collection of 34 chapbooks (s0098b48) Chapbook #24 in a bound collection of 37 chapbooks (s0042b27) Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1840? per University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks Extent The size or duration of the resource. 8 pages Subject The topic of the resource Poetry Courtship and Marriage Highlands Abstract A summary of the resource. Two ballad or poems about peddlars and their packs are included in this chapbook. The first describes the humorous conversation between a peddler and his pack, while the second tells the tale of a peddler who falls in love and wishes to marry, but when his love refuses to marry him right away, he heads out to the Highlands with his pack. Unfortunately, he loses the pack after a fall during a storm, and when his betrothed finds out, she soon marries another. Is Referenced By A related resource that references, cites, or otherwise points to the described resource. University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks <a href="University%20of%20Glasgow%20Union%20Catalogue%20of%20Scottish%20Chapbooks%20%20http%3A//special.lib.gla.ac.uk/chapbooks/search/">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 Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Wilson, Alexander, 1766-1813 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/7b90b32da8240a72ad40fefe61dc62f1.pdf 4d62199e7fca680b8c97fe2048d66aad https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/ac3989f58fff4a8b7e02c3cedac63887.jpg 0898a965ae113e4a46d9d572ff83a336 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 Rab and Ringan: A Tale. As delivered in the Pantheon, Edinburgh. (Recited in the Character of a Poor Pedlar) By the Author of Watty and Meg. To which is added, The TWA Cats and the Cheese: A Tale. Demonstrating the great Folly of going to Law. 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> Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. The&nbsp;twa Cats and the Cheese: A Tale. Demonstrating the great Folly of going to Law. Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. Chapbook #15 in a bound collection of 54 chapbooks 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 Referenced By A related resource that references, cites, or otherwise points to the described resource. <a title="National Library of Scotland" href="http://www.nls.uk/">National Library of Scotland</a> ESTC#: T46253 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 Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Wilson, Alexander, 1766-1813 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: Brash & Reid # of Woodcuts: 3 Bib Context: title-page Chapbook Date: 1791-1800 Chapbook Genre: ballads & songs Chapbook Publisher - Glasgow: Brash & Reid Musical Instrument: fiddle(s) Musical Instrument: flute Musical Instrument: horn(s) https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/ce7a370b1ce3867ff5b015a8a31ef7ee.pdf 535115a166e0723a2e1789b8a225b3fa PDF Text Text THE HOLLANDER $ SAB'S DOOR, THE INSULTED PEDLAR, LANG MILLS DETECTED, / C ^ t e ^ ' y ^ g * ^ Yes, while I live, no rich or sordid knave Shall walk the world in credit to his grave. POPE, PAISLEY: published by n, smith $ m. 1B32. �7X5 n? �THE S H A R K, YE Weaver blades ! ye noble chiels! Wha fill our lann wi* plenty, And mak our vera barest fiel's To wave wi' ilka dainty, Defend yoursels ! Tak sicker heed ! I warn you as a brither, Or SHARK'S resolved, wi' hellish greed, To gorge us a' thegither, At ance this day. In gude's-name will we ne'er get free O' thieves and persecution ! Will Satan never let a be To plot our dissolution ! Ae scoun'rel sinks us to the pit, Wi' his eternal curses, Anither granes,—and prays,—-and .yet Contrives to toom our purses, Maist every day. �4 A higher aim gars WILLY think, And deeper schemes he's brewin j Ten thousan' fouk at ance to sink To poverty and ruin ! Hail mighty Patriot! Noble Soul! Sae generous, and sae civil, Sic vast designs deserve the whole Applauses of the devil, On ony day. In vain we've toil'd wi' head and heart, And constant deep inspection, For years on years, to bring this Art So nearly to perfection ; The mair that Art and Skill deserve, The greedier WILL advances, And Saws and Barrels only serve To heighten our expences And wrath this day, But know, to thy immortal shame, While stands a Paper-Spot So long, great Squeeze the Poor ! thy fame* Thy blasted fame shall rot, And as a brick, or limestane kill Wi* sooty reek advances, So grateful shall thy mem'ry still Be to our bitter senses, By night or day. T I \ �5 Lang, WILLY SHARK wi' greedy snout Had sneak'd about the C—n—1, To eat his beef, and booze about, ^ Nor prov'd at drinking punGh ill, Till, Judas-like, he got the bag, And squeez'd it to a Jelly, Thae war the days for WILL to brag., And blest times for the belly Ilk ither day. The mail* we get by heule and cruk e af'en grow the greedier, SHARK raiket now through every neuk To harl till him speedier ; His ghastly conscience, pale and spent, Was summon'd up, right clever, Syne, wi' an execration, sent Aff, henceforth and for ever, Frae him that day. This done, Trade snoovt awa wi* skill And wonderfu' extention, And widen't soon WHS every Mill, (A dexterous invention !) Groat after groat, was clippet aff, Frae ae thing an' ani'tber, Till fouk began to think on draff, To help to baud thegither Their banes that day. i �6 Now, round frae Cork to Cork he trots Wi' eagerness and rigour, And Rump the Petticoats and Spots !" His Sharkship roar'd wi' vigour ; But, whan his Harnishes cam in In dizens in a morning, And a' grew desolate aud grim, His rapture chang'd to mourning And rage that day. Thus Haman, in the days of yore, Pufft up wi' spitefu' evil, Amang his blackgaurd, wicked core Centriv'd to play the devil; High stood the Gibbet's dismal cape, But little thought the sinner That he had caft the vera rape Wad rax his neck, e're dinner Was ower that day. Wha cou'd believe a Chiel «ae trig Wad cheat us o' a bodle ? Or that sae fair a gowden wig Contain'd sae black a noddle? But S H A R K beneath a sleekit smile Conceals his fiercest ginning, And, like his neighbours of the Nile,* Devours wi' little warning By night or day. * A well-known river much infested by Crocodi! �7 O huppy is that man and blest Wha in the C—n—1 gets him ! Soon may he cram his greedy kist And dare a soul to touch him, But should some poor aul wife, by force O' POortith, scrimp her measure, Her cursed Reels at P — y Corse, Wad bleeze wi* meikle pleasure To them that day. Whiles, in my sleep, methinks I see Thee marching through the City, And Hangman Jock, wi' girnan glee, Proceeding to his duty. I see thy dismal phiz, and back, While Jock, his stroke to strengthen, Brings down his brows at every swack, "I'll learn you frien' to lengthen Your Mills the day." Poor Wretch ! in sic a dreadfu' hour O' blude and dirt and hurry, What wad thy saftest luks or sour Avail to stap their fury ? "Lang Mills," wad rise around thy lugs In mony a horrid volley, And thou be kicket to the dugs, To think upo' thy foily Ilk after day. > �Ye Senators ! whase wisdom deep Keeps a' our matters even, If sic a wretch ye dare to keep How can ye hope for heaven ? Kick out the scoun'erel to his shift, We'll pay him for his sporting, And sen' his Mills and him adrift At ance to try their fortune Down Cart this day. Think, thou unconscionable SHARK ! For heaven's sake bethink thee ! To what a depth of horrors dark Sic wark will surely sink thee— Repent of sic enormous sins, And drap thy curst intention, Or faith I fear, wi' birslt shins, Thou'l mind this reprehension Some future day. �THE AMERICAN BLUE-BIRD. When Winter's cold tempests and snows are no more, Green meadows, and brown furrowed fields re-appearing, The fisherman haling their shade to the shore And cloud.cleaving geese to the lakes are a-steering When first the lone butterfly flits on the wing, When red glow the maples, so fresh and so pleasing, O then comes the Blue-bird, the herald of Spring, And hails with his warblings the charms of the season. Then loud piping frogs make the marshes to ring; Then warm glows the sunshine, and fine is the weather; �The blue woodland flowers just beginning to spring, And spicewood and sasafras budding together O then to your gardens, ye housewives, repair ; Your walks border up; sow and plant at your leisure; The Blue-bird will chant from his box such an air, That all your hard toils will seem truly a pleasure. He flits thro' the orchard, he visits each tree The red flowering peach, and the apple's sweet blossoms; He snaps up destroyers wherever they be, And seizes the caitiffs that lurk in their bosoms; He drags the vile grub from the corn it devours, The worms from their webs where they riot and welter. His song and his services freely are ours, And all that he asks, is, in summer, a shelter. is pleas'd when he gleams �11 Now searching the furrows—now mounting to chear him, The gard'ner delights in his sweet simple strain, And leans on his spade to survey and to hear him, The slow ling'ring schoolboys forget they'll be chid, While gazing intent as he warbles before 'em, In mantle of sky-blue, and bosom so red, That each little loiterer seems to adore him When all the gay scenes of the summer are o'er, And Autumn slow enters so silent and sallow, And millions of warblers, that charm'd ua before, Have fled in the train of the sun-seeking swallow; The Blue-bird forsaken, yet true to his home Still lingers, and looks for a milder tomorrow, Till, forc'd by the horrors of winter to roam He sings his adieu in a lone note of sorrow. While Spring's lovely season, serene, dewy, warm, �12 The green face of earth, and the pure blue of Heaven, Or Love's native music have influence to charm, Or Sympathy's glow to our feelings are ' given, Still dear to each bosom the Blue-bird shall be. His voice, like the thrillings of hope, is a treasure; For, thro* bleakest storms, if a calm he but see. He comes to remind us of sunshine and pleasure. C A L D W E L L , PRINTER. � https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/3cc355f84c7cb11797494a7720df721b.jpg 2b84de9a961ef9cc65d6fb2dd14adde4 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 Hollander; Hab's Door, The Insulted Pedlar, Lang Mills Detected. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1832 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> Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Wilson, Alexander, 1766-1813 Description An account of the resource Quote at bottom of title-page: "Yes, while I live, no rich or sordid knave Shall walk the world in credit to his grave. Pope." "By Alex Wilson" in pen on title-page. Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. The Hollander Hab's door The insulted pedlar Lang Mills detected Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. Chapbook #51 in a bound collection of 54 chapbooks Extent The size or duration of the resource. 12 pages Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Cork, Ireland 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 Paisley: R. Smith & Co. Subject The topic of the resource Chapbooks - Scotland - Paisley Poetry Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario # of Woodcuts: 0 Chapbook Date: 1831-1840 Chapbook Genre: poetry Chapbook Publisher - Paisley: R. Smith & Co. https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/10e29110fbc69d76b5eb222c63f0822c.pdf bbf73ea2002710fb40d655e7a38a8cfe PDF Text Text BLIND ALLAN, A TALE, FROM LIGHTS & SHADOWS OF SCOTTISH LIFE." PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS. �_L Jtx.®^ ^ S L I & T i MOJl'i < : > ; t t o o b TO b w o c i a h b * b t h o j J .8H3JJ33XOOa SHT H03 dSTiflH^ �VOffj httfi e horJ^I'i B l I I D rfjo-.f ^ mob;; A L L A M . .>»> »> A l l a n B r u c e and F a n v y R a e b u r n were in no respect remarkable among the simple inhabitants of the village in which they were born. They both bore a fair reputation in the parish, and they were both beloved by their own friends and relations, He was sober, honest, active, and industrious,— exemplary in the common duties of private,—possessed of the humble virtues becoming his humble condition, and unstained by any of those gross vices that sometimes deform the character of the poor. She was modest, good tempered, contented, and religious—and much is contained in these four words. Beauty she was not thought to possess—nor did she attract attention ; but Whatever charm resides in pure health, innocence of heart, and simplicity of manners, that belonged to Fanny Raeburn; while there was nothing either about her face or figure to prevent her seeming even beautiful in the eyes of a lover �4 These two humble and happy persons were betrothed in marriage. Their affection had insensibly grown without any courtship, for they had lived daily in each others sight; and, undisturbed by jealously or rivalry, by agitating hopes or depressingfears, their hearts hsd been tenderly united long before their troth was solemnly pledged , and they now looked forward with a calm and rational satisfaction* to the happy years, which they humbly hoped might be stored up for them by a bountiful Providence. Their love was without romance, but it was warm, tender and true; they were prepared by its strength to makp any sacrifice for each other's sakes; and, had death taken away either of them before the wedding-day, the survivor might not perhaps have been clamorous in grief, or visited the grave of the departed with nightly lamentations, but not the less would that grief have been sincefe, and not the less faithful would memory have been to all the images of the past. Their marriage-day was fixed—and Allan Bruce had rented a small cottage, with a garden sloping down to the stream that cheered his native village. Thither,, in about two months, he was to take his sweet and affectionate Fanny—she was to. work with her needle as before—and he in the fields. No change was to take place in their lives, but a change of contentment to happiness; and if God prolonged to them the possession of health, and �5 blessed them with children, they feared not to bring them decently up, and to afford sunshine and shelter to the living flowers that might come to gladden their house. Such thoughts visited the souls of the lovers,—and they were becoming dearer aud dearer to one another every hour that brought them closer to their marriage-day. At this time Allan began to feel a slight dimness in his sight, of which he did not take much notice, attributing it to some indisposition brought on by the severity of his winter's work. For he had toiled late and early, during all weathers, and at every kind of labour, to gain a sum sufficient to furnish respectably his lowly dwelling, and also to array his sweet bride in wedding clothes of which she should not be ashamed. rl he dimness, however, each succeeding day, darkened and deepened, till even his Fanny's lace was indistinctly discerned by him, and he lost altogether the smile which never failed to brighten it whenever he appeared. Then he became sad and dispirited, for the fear of blindness fell upon him, and he thought of his steps being led in his helplessness by the hand of a child. He prayed to God to avert this calamity from him—but if not, to bestow upon him the virtue of resignation. He thought of the different blind men whom he had known, and as far as he could know, they all seemed happy. That belief pacified his soul, when it was about to �6 give way to a passionate despair; and every morning at sunrise when the fast advancing verdure of spring seemed more dim and glimmering before his eyes, he felt his soul more and more resigned to that final extinction of the day's blessed light, which he knew must be his doom before the earth was covered with the flowers and fragrance of June. It was as he had feared; and Allan Bruce was now stone-blind, Fanny's voice had always been sweet to his ear, and now it was sweeter still when heard jn tlie darkness. Sweet had been the kisses which breathed from Fanny's lips, while his eyes delighted in their rosy freshness. But sweeter were they now when they touched his eye lids, and he felt upon his cheeks her fast trinkiing tears. She visited him in his father's house, and led him with her gently guiding hands into the adjacent fields, and down along the stream which he said he liked to hear murmuring by; and then they talked together about themselves, and on their knees prayed to God to counsel them what to do in their distress. These Meetings were always happy meetings to them both, notwithstanding the many mournful thoughts with which they were necessarily attended; but to Allan Bruce they yielded a support �7 that did not forsake him in his hours of uncompanioned darkness. His love, which had formerly been joyful in the warmth of youth, and in the near prospect of enjoyment, was now chastened by the sad sense of his unfortunate condition, and rendered thereby a deep and devout emotion which had its comfort in its own unwitnessed privacy and imperishable truth. The tones of hte Fanny's voice were with him on his midnight bed, when his affliction was like to overcome his fortitude ; and to know that he was still tenderly beloved by that gentle and innocent friend, was a thought that gave light to darkness, and suffered sleep to fall balmily on lids that shut up eyes already dark as in profoundest slumher. The meek fold of her pitying embrace was with him in the vague uncertainty of h ted reams; and often he saw faces in his sleep beaming consolation upon him, that always assumed at last Fanny's features, and as they grew more distinct, brightened up into a perfect likeness of his own faithful and disinterested maiden. He lay down with her image, because it was in his evening prayers; he rose up with her image, or it came gliding in upon him, as he knelt down at his bed-side in the warm beams of the unseen morning light. - i tloo bris a^B a id to elnemaeuirw mil i»i .auoin&q Allan and Fanny were children of poor parents; and when he became blind, they, and indeed all their friends and relations, set their faces against �8 marriage. This they did in kindness to them both, for prudence is one of the best virtues of the poor, and to indulge even the holiest affections of our nature, seems to them to be sinful, if an affliction from God s hand intimates that such union would lead to sorrow and distress. The same thoughts had taken possession of Allan's own soul; and loving Fanny Raeburn, with a perfect affection, why should he wish her, in the bright and sunny days of her youthful prime, to become chained to a Blind Man's Steps, kept in constant poverty and drudgery for his sake, and imprisoned in a lonesome hut, during the freedom of her age, and the joyfulness of nature ringing over the earth? " It has pleased God." said the blind man to himself, " that our marriage should not be. Let Fanny, if she chooses, some time or other, marry another, and be happy." And as the thought arose, he felt the bitterness of the cup, and wished that he might soon be in his grave. For, while his eyes were not thus dark, he saw many things that gave him pleasure, besides his Fanny, well as he loved her; nor had his been an absorbing passion, although most sincere. He had often been happy at his work, with his companions, in the amusements of his age and condition, with the members of his own family, without thinking even of his dear Fanny Raeburn. She was not often, to be sure, entirely out of his �9 thoughts, for the consciousness of loving her, and of being beloved, accompanied his steps, although he scarcely knew it, just as one who lives on a lake side, or by the murmur of a stream, may feel the brightness and the shadows of the one, and hear the constant music of the other, mingling as a remembrance or a dream with the inipressions, thoughts, passions, and feelings of his ordinary human life. But now, what had been less pleasant or necessary to him all faded away and he saw in his darkness, one image only—Fanny Raeburn— he heard in his darkness one sound only—Fanny Raeburn's voice. Was she to smile in another man's house ? Surely, that could not be; for her smiles were his and to transfer them to another, seemed to him to be as impossible, as for a mother to forget her own children, and pour with equal fondness her smiles upon the face of another who belonged not to her blood. Yet such transference, such forgetfulness, such sad change had been, that he well knew, even in " the short and simple annals of the poor," which alone he had read ; and who would blame, who would pity, who would remember the case of the deserted, and forsaken poor Blind Man ? Fanny Raeburn had always been a dutiful child and she listened to the arguments of her parents with, a heavy but composed heart. She was willing to obey them in all things in which it was h£r �10 duty to obey—bul here she knew not what was her duty. To give up Allan Bruce was a thought far worse to her than to give up life. It was to suffer her heartstrings to he hourly torn up by the roots. If the two were willing to be married, why should any one else interfere ? If God had stricken Allan with blindness after their marriage, would any one have counselled her to leave hira ? Or pitied her because she had to live with her own blind husband ? Or would the fear of poverty have .benumbed her feelings ? Or rather would it not have given new alacrity to her hands, and new courage to her heart ? So she resolved, meekly and calmly, to tell Allan that she would be his wife, and that she believed that such was, in spite of this affliction, the will of God. Allan Bruce did not absent himself, in his blindness, from the House of God. One Sabbath, after divine service, Fanny went up to him in the church-yard, and putting her arm in his, they walked away together, seemingly as cheerful as the rest of the congregation, only with somewhat slower and more cautious steps. I hey proceeded along the quiet meadowfields by the banks of the stream, and then across the smooth green braes, till they gently descended into a holm, and sat down together in a little green bower, which a few hazels, mingling with one tall weeping birch, had of themselves framed, a place where they had often �11 met before Allan was blind, and where they had lirst spoken of wedded life. Fanny could have almost wept to see the earth, and the sky, and the whole day, so beautiful, now that Allan's eyes were dark but he whispered to her, that the smell of the budding trees, and of the primroses thai he knew were near his feet, was pleasant indeed, and that the singing of all the little birds made his heart dance within him—so Fanny sat beside her blind lover in serene happiness, and felt strengthened in her conviction that it was her duty to become his wife. " Allan—I love you so entirely—that to see you happy is all that I desire on earth. Till God made you blind—Allan—1 knew not how my soul could be knit unto yours—I knew not the love that was in my heart. To sit by you with my work—to lead you out thus on pleasant Sabbaths —to take care that your feet do not stumble— and that nothing shall ever offer violence to your face—to suffer no solitude to surround you—but that you may know, in your darkness, that mine eyes, which God still permits to see, are always upon you—for these ends, Allan, will I marry thee, my beloved—thou must not say nay—for God would not forgive me if I became not thy wife/' And Fanny fell upon his neck and wept. �oe There waft something in the quiet tone of her voice—something in the meek fold of her embrace —something in the long weeping kiss that she kept breathing tenderly over his brow and eyes—that justified to the Blind Man his marriage with such a woman. " Let us be married, Fanny, on the day fixed before I lost my sight. Till now I knew not fully either your heart or my own—now I fear nothing. Would—^my best friend—[ could but see thy sweet face for one single moment now— but that can never be !"—'" *11 things are possible to God—and although to human skill your case is hopeless—it is not utterly so to my heart—yet if ever it becomes so, Allan, then will I love thee better even than ! do now, if indeed ray heart can contain more affection than that with which it now overflows." ?—•• Allan Bruce and Fanny Raeburn were married. And although there was felt, by the most careless heart, to be something sad and solemn in such nuptials, yet Allan made his marriage-day one of sober cheerfulness in his native village. Fanny wore her white ribbands in the very way that used to be pleasant to Allan's eyes; and blind as he now was, these eyes kindled with a joyful smile, when he turned the clear sightless orbs towards his bride, and saw her within his soul arrayed in the simple white dress which he heard all about him saying so well became her sweet looks. Her relations �IS and his own partook of the marriage feast in their cottage—there was the sound of music and dancing feet on the little green plat at the foot of the garden, by the river's side—the bride's youngest sister, who was henceforth to be an inmate of the house, remained when the party went away in the quiet of the evening—and peace, contentment and love, folded their wings together over that humble dwelling. From that day Allan and his wife were perfectly happy—and they could not help wondering at their former fears. There was, at once, a general determination formed all over the parish to do them every benefit. Fanny, who had always been distinguished for her skill and fancy as a seamstress became now quite the fashionable dress-maker of the village, and had more employment offered than she could accept. So that her industry alone was more than sufficient for all their present wants. But Allan, though blind, was not idle. He immediately began to instruct himself in various departments of a blind man's work A loom was purchased ; and in a few weeks he was heard singing to the sound of his fly-shuttle as merry as the bullfinch in the cage that hung at the low window of his room. He was not long in finding out the way of platting rush-rugs and wicker-baskets—the figures of all of which were soon, as it were, visible through his very fingers; and before six months �14 were over, Allan Bruce and his wife were said to be getting rich, and a warm blessing broke from every heart upon them, and their virtuous and unrepining industry. jr.uod lidilo rm od ot iliioiiaa^d z&u off?/ Allan had always been fond of music, and his voice was the finest tenor in all the kirk. So he began in the evenings of winter to teach a school for sacred music—and thus every hour was turned to account. Allan repined not now—nay at times he felt as if his blindness were a blessing—for it forced him to trust to his own soul—to turn for comfort to the best and purest human affections— and to see God always. Whatever misgivings of mind Allan Bruce might have experienced—whatever faintings and sickenings and deadly swoons of dispair might have overcome his heart,—it was not long before he was a freedman from ail his slavery. He was not immured, like many as worthy as he, in an Asylum ; he was not an incumbrance upon a poor father, sitting idle and in the way of others, beside an ill-fed fire, and a scanty board ; he was not forced to pace step by step along the lamp^lighted streets and squares of a city, forcing out beautiful music to gain a few pieces of coin from passers by entranced for a moment by sweet sounds plaintive or jocund; he was not a boy- �15 led beggar along the high-way under the sickening sunshine or the chilling sleet, with an abject that abjectly protruded with a cold heart for colder charity;—but he was, although he humbly felt and acknowledged that he was in nothing more worthy than these, a man loaded with many blessings, warmed by a constant ingle, laughed round by a flock of joyful children, love-tended and love-lighted by a wife who was to him at once music and radiance,—while his house stood in the middle of a village of which all the inhabitants were his friends, and of all whose hands the knock was known when it touched his door, and of all whose voices the tone was felt when it kindly accosted him in the wood, in the field, in the garden, by the river's side, hospitable board of a neighbour, or in the Church-yard assemblage before entering into the House of God. Thus did years pass along. Children were born to them-r—lived—were healthy—and weilbehaved. A blessing rested upon them and all that belonged to them, and the name of " Blind Allan" carried with it far and near an authority that could belong only to virtue, piety, and faith tried by affliction and found to stand fast. fcsf > 'io tbnild gflbd 'io.rooio^.'i^^au eux 9(1 i&di bh<s Ten years ago, when they married, Allan Bruce and Fanny Raeburn were among the poorest of �16 the poor, and had it pleased God to send sickness among them, hard had been their lot. But now they lived in a better house—with a larger garden —and a few fields, with two cows of their own— Allan had workmen under him, a basket-maker now on a considerable scale—and his wife had her apprentices too, the best dress-maker in all the country round. They were rich. Their children were at school,—and all things, belonging both to outer and inner life, had prospered to their hearts' desire. Allan could walk about many familiar places unattended ; but that seldom happened, for whiie his children were at school he was engaged in his business ; and when they came home, there was always a loving contest among them who should be allowed to take hold of their father's hand when he went out on his evening walk. Well did he know the the tread of each loving creature's footstep—their very breath when their voices were silent. One touch of a head as it danced past him, or remained motionless by his side—one pressure of an arm upon his knee—one laugh from a corner was enough to tell him which of his children was there; and in the most confused noise and merriment, his ear would have known if one romping imp had been away. So perfectly accustomed had he long been to his situation, that it might almost be said that he was unconscious of being blind, or that he had foi gotten that his eyes once saw. Long had Allan Bruce indeed been the happiest of the blind. �17 It chanced at this time, that among a party who were visiting his straw manufactory, theie was a surgeon celebrated for his skill in operations upon the eye, who expressed an opinion that Allan's sight might be at least partially restored, and offered not only to perform the operation, but if Allan would reside for some weeks in Edinburgh, to see him every day, till it was known whether his case was or was not a hopeless one. Allan's circumstances were now such as to make a few weeks, or even months confinement of no importance to him; and thongh he said to his wife that he was averse to submit to an operation that mi^ht disturb the long formed quiet and contentment of his mind by hopes never to be realized, yet those hopes of once more seeing Heaven's dear light gradually removed all his repugnance. His eyes were couched, and when the bandages were removed and the soft broken light let in upon him, Allan Bruce was no longer among [he number of the blind. There was no uncontrollable burst of joy in the soul of ?.llan Bruce when once more a communication was opened between it and the visible world. For he had learned lessons of humility and temperance in all his emotions during ten years of blindness, in which the hope of light was too faint to deserve the name. He was almost afraid to believe his sight was restored, Grateful to him was its first uncertain and wavering glimmer, as a �18 draught of water to a wretch in a cr)wded dungeon. Bur he nevv not whether it was to ripen into the perfect day, or gradually to fade back again into the depth of his former darkness. But when his Fanny—she on whom he had so loved to look when she was a maiden in her teens, and who would not forsake him in the first misery of that great affliction, but had been overjoyed to link the sweet freedom of her prime to one sitting in perpetual dark—when she, now a staid and lovely matron, stood before him with a face pale in bliss, and all drenched in the floodlike tears of an .(insupportable happiness—then truly did he feel what a heaven it was to see 1 And as he took her to his heart, he gently bent back her head, that he might devour with his eyes that bening beauty which had for so many years smiled upon him unbeheld, and which now that he had seen once more, be felt that he could even at that very moment die in peace. •tv>i;iurcfflo3 js 9iwn t^no ; • ; • JIJIQ fl it! U) In came with soft steps, one after another, his five loving children, that for the first time they might be seen by their Father. The girls advanced timidly, with blushing cheeks and bright shining hair, while the boys went boldly up to his side, and the eldest looking in the face, exclaimed with a shout of joy, " O u r Father sees !-—our �19 M Father sees ! ;—and then checking his rapture, burst into tears. Many a vision had Allan Bruce framed to himself of the face and figure of one and all of his children. One, he had been told, was like himself-—another the ima^e of its mother— and Lucy, he understood, was a blended likeness of them both. But now he looked upon them with the confused and bewildered joy of parental love, seeking to know and distinguish in the light the seperate objects towards whom it yearned; and not till they spoke did he know their Christian names. But soon, soon, did the sweet faces of all his children seem, to his eyes, to answer well, each in its different Jovejiness, to the expression of the voices s > long familiar to his heart. < Pleasant, too, no doubt, was that expansion of heart, that followed the sight of so many old-friends and acquaintances, all of whom, familiar as he had long been with them in his darkness, one day's light now seemed to bring farther forward in his affection. They came towards him now with brighter satisfaction—and the happines of his own soul gave a kinder expression to their demeanour, and represented them all as a host of human beings rejoicing in the joy of one simple brother. Here was a young man, who, when he saw him last, was a little school-boy -—here a man beginning to be bent with toil, and with a thoughtful aspect, who had been own joyous and laughing fellow-labourers �20 in field or at fair—here a man on whom, ten years before, he had shut his eyes in advanced but vigorous life, now sitting, with a white head and supported on a staff—all this change he knew before, but now he saw it; and there was thus a somewhat sad. but an interesting, delightful, and impressive contrast and resemblance between the past and the present, brought immediately before him by the removal of a veil. Every face around him— every figure—was instructive as well as pleasant; and humble as his sphere of life was, and limited its range, quire enough of chance and change was now submitted to his meditation, to give his character, which had long been thoughtful, a still more solemn cast, and a temper of still more homely and humble wisdom. Nor did all the addition to his happiness come from human life. Once more he saw the heavens and the earth. By men in his lowly condition, nature is not looked on very often perhaps with poetical eyes. But all the objects of nature are in themselves necessarily agreeable and delightful: and the very colours and forms he now saw fiilled his soul with bliss. Not for ten dark years had he seen a cloud, and now they were piled up like castles in the summer heaven. Not for ten dark years had he seen the vaulted sky, and there it was now bending majestically in its dark, deep, serene azure, full of tendei ness, beauty, and power. The �21 green earth, with all its flowers, was now visible beneath his feet. A hundred gardens blossomed —a hundred hedge rows ran across the meadow and up the sides of the hills—the dark grove of sycamore, shading the village church on its mount, stood tinged with a glitter of yellow light—and from one extremity of the village to the other, calm, fair, and unwavering, the smoke from ail its chimneys went up to, heaven on the dewy morning air. He felt all this just by opening his eye-lids. And in his gratitude to God he blessed the thatch of his own humble house, and the swallows that were twittering beneath its eaves. Such, perhaps, were some of the feelings which Allan. Bruce experienced on being restored to sight. But faint and imperfect must be every picture of man's inner soul. This, however, is true that Allan Bruce now felt that his blindness had been to him, in many respects, a blessing. It had touched all hearts with kindness towards him and his wife when they were poor—it had kept his feet within the doors of his house, or within the gate of his garden, often whan they might otherwise have wandered into less happy and innocent places—it turned to him the sole undivided love of his sweet contented Fanny—it gave to the filial tenderness of liis children something of fondest passion—and it taught him moderation in all things, humility, reverence, and perfect resignation of the Divine �22 Will. It may, therefore, be truly said; that whe* the blameless man once more lifted up his seeing eyes, in all things he beheld God. Soon after this time, a small Nursery-garden between Iioslin and Lasswade,—a bank sloping down gently to the Esk—was on sale, and Allan Bruce was able to purchase it. Such an employment seemed peculiarly fitted for him, and also compatible with his other profession. He had acquired, during his blindness, much useful information from the readings of his wife or children ; and having been a gardener in his youth, among his many other avocations, he had especially extended his knowledge respecting flowers, shrubs, and trees. Here he follows that healthy, p easant, and intelligent occupation. Among his other assistant Gardeners there is one man with a head white as snow, but a ruddy and cheerful countenance, who, from his self-importancp, seems to be the proprietor of the garden. This is Allan's Father, who lives in a small cottage adjoining—takes care of all the gardening tools—and is master of the beehives. His old iVlother, too, is sometimes seen weeding; but oftener with her grandchildren, when in the evenings, after school, they are playing on the green plat by the Sun Dial, with flov*ers garlanded round their heads, or feeding the large trout in the clear silvery well near the roots of the celebrated Pear Tree. �«8 •vi« diiW .noitBfiaibni aid oj inov anivha ni ANECDOTE. -it ; ori ?Jn9m9Visq rooil y-:* ^ni>lii1« - t e d bate -X9 <*i»i 8G buoi ^HJtiblttflSNtfrB'J C9nw*ll1 21d 1)91^ bs^rrfirino L*uo*w asnul b9i8u.f»«! f O * jicrmq Sowr Wholesale. \, I ni sd J> -rfj ni -; 'o - k! 9fl) 'iivl 1H Sometime ago, the frolics of the Honourable Mr made a great noise in the newspapers. The following records one of the most whimsical acts of folly :— One morning, after having danced all night at an assembly, he sauntered out, with the Maiquis of leaning on his arm ; and in crossing St. Andrew's Square, found at old rustic standing before the door of Dumbreck's Hotel, with his cart full of butter-milk barrels. He quickly concerted with the Marquis a scheme of fun, whereby the milk of the old man found a very different destiny to what its owner intended. I'hey first jumped up in front of the cart, seized the halter, and galloped off, leaving the poor man, to follow as best he could—then took out all the spiggots, and in s;rand style drove along George-street, past the Assembly Rooms, to the astonishment of the fashionables whom they had lately left; then down Frederickstreet, along Prince's-street, and back again to St. Andrew's-Square, ail the time followed by the old milk-man, who, in the agony of his heart, at seeing his valuable property deluging the causeway, exhausted his whole vocabulary of exclamations, �24 in giving vent to his indignation. With his skyblue top coat flying behind him, and his rough shod heels striking fire from the pavement, he pursued his ravished cart, shouting as loud as his exhausted lungs would permit, 1 O, ye unhanged blackguards !— ye villains !—-ye deil's buckies !— I'll ha'e the law o' ye, gin there be law in Embrugh, ye vagabonds!—I'll get ye a better house than your father ever biggit, for ye, ye rascals!—I'll get ye clapped up as sure as ye're Jeevin', ye rampaging Emburgh hallanshakers f As soon as he arrived at the Hotel, the Marquis delivered the reins into his hand ; but blue-bonnet vowed he would not quit him, till he had ascertained his name, and that of his companion. Mr — put his hand into his pocket, and drew out a piece of paper, which he said contained the required addresses ; and while the old man unfolded it, our young heroes took the opportunity to escape. The bit of paper turned out to be a ten pound note, ' Ah, *<top, my bonny lads/cries the appeased milk-man * I've something to say t ye—Will ye need ony mair milk the morn ?' FINIS. � https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/9dcaeaa25c7901c10f9de65466e5e574.jpg f00f7cc98685d302957a333ac6e6ef66 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 2953 Width 1891 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 Blind Allan, a tale from "Lights &amp; shadows of Scottish life." Subject The topic of the resource Chapbooks--Scotland--Falkirk 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 Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9943905663505154">s0615b38</a> Accrual Method The method by which items are added to a collection. Purchased through the Jane Grier Family Trust. 2012. Extent The size or duration of the resource. 24 pages 16 cm Is Referenced By A related resource that references, cites, or otherwise points to the described resource. University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks <a href="University%20of%20Glasgow%20Union%20Catalogue%20of%20Scottish%20Chapbooks%20%20http%3A//special.lib.gla.ac.uk/chapbooks/search/">http://special.lib.gla.ac.uk/chapbooks/search/</a> Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Wilson, John, 1785-1854. Description An account of the resource Woodcut image of a portrait of a man surrounded by flowers on title page 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 [No Place] : Printed for the Booksellers https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/9b275b4c56f5582406bdd230f1262057.jpg cffdc11aa5bce1173d93e8a7c88441c6 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 1890 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Woodcut on title-page portraying a young man wearing hat. He is standing in a field sharpening a scythe https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/fc29e9f5d0a14ca495f111f702fa7cd3.pdf d3547247af5ffe12c8882fcddc443066 PDF Text Text THE COMICAL SAYINGS OF i WITH HIS Coat B u t t o n e d Behind. BEING AN ELEGANT CONFERENCE BETWEEN E H 0 L I S H TOM KED I R I S H TEAGTJE; WITH PADDY'S CATECHISM, And his Supplication when a Mountain Sailor. PRINTED 8•t GLASGOW; FOR THE B O O K S E L E R S . 21. #### # W �« *' . x. ' • I . * ' - • n — ' 4'f . '• 3HT . ?d C' s ; • J i '• ' . in.iiTIT/ | JhiIIIoI! •' X • - -?H - < . ' H, 1 . H B I S I <!'= f I .. 1 - : £ rcftfiw ' t € t ' fconcmitf • J . L- f; t MM1 J1103 # . ' v- - fO | * im f»« A • & ^C JI 1 • • * . ; ; Tf-O .rood s Vv .1.A r n o i /o < .IS i 1 �i : v.-! "'1 COMICAL PADDY •! *' hW I • 1 FROM '•! - - ft S A Y I N G S CORK, • • ' U P A R T I, Tom. GOOD morrow, Sir, this is a very cold day. Teag. A IT a, dear honey, yesternight was a very cafat Tozra. Teag. Torn. Teag. Well brother traveller of what nation art thou: Arra clear shoy, I came from my own kingdom. Why, I know that, but where is thy kingdom ? Allelieu dear hnriey, don't you know Cork in Tom* You fool, Cork is not a kingdom but a city. Teag. Then dear shoy, I'm sure it is in a kingdom, Tom. And what is the reason you have come and left your own dear country ? </ - 4 Teag. Arra dear honey, by shaint Patrick, they have got such comical laws in our country, that they will put a man to death in perfect health; so to be free and plain with you, neighbour, I was obliged to come away, for I did not choose to stay among such a people that can hang a poor man when they please, if he either steals, robs, or kills a man, Tom. Ay, but I take you to be more of an i man, than to steal, rob, or kill a man. a child, my mother would have trusted me with a 1 full of Tom. What was the matter, was you guilty of nothing, Teag. Arra, dear honey, I did harm to nobody, but fancied an old guitieman's gun, and afterwards made it my ewi, �Tom. Very well boy, and did you keep it so ? Teag. Keep it, I would have kept it with ail my heart while I lived, death itself could not have parted us, but fcha old rogue, the gentleman, being a justice of peace himself, had in? tried for the rights of it, and how I came by it, and so took rt again. Tom. And how did you clear yourself without punishment ? Teag. Arra dear shoy, I told him a parcel of lies, but they would not believe me ; for I said that I got it from my father when it was a little pistol, and I had kept it till it had grown a gun, and was designed to use it well until it had grown a a big cannon, and then sell it to the military. They all fell a laughing at me as I had been a fool, and bade me go home to my mother ana clean the potatoes. lorn. How long is it since you left your own country ? Teag. Arra, dear honey, I do not mind whether it be a fortnight or four months, but I think myself, it is a long time; they tell me my mother is dead since, but I wont believe it until 1 get a letter from her own hand, for she is a very good scholar, suppose she can neither write nor read. Tom. Was you ever in England before ? Teag. A y , that I was, and in Scotland too. Tom. And were they kind to you when you was La Scotland ? Teag. They were that kind that they kick't my arse for me, and the reason was because I would not pay the whole of the liquor that was drunk in the company, though the landlord and his two sons got mouthful about of & all, and I told them it was a trick upon travellers, first to drink his liquor, and then to kick him out of doors. Tom. I really think they have used you badly, but could you not beat them ? Teag. That's what I did, beat them all to their own c«Hitentment, but there was one of them stronger than me, who would have killed me, if the other two had not pulled �5 me away, and I had to run for it, till his passion was over, then they made us drink and gree again ; we shook hands, and made a bargain, never to harm other more ; but this bargain did not last long, for, as I was kissing his mouth, by shaint Patrick, I bit his nose, which caused him to beat me very sore for my pains. Tom. Well Paddy, what calling was you when in Scotland. Teag. Why sir, I was no business at all, but what do you call the green tree that's like a whin bush, people makes a thing to sweep the house of it 1 Tom. 0 yes, Paddy, they call it the broom. Teag. A y , ay, you have it, I was a gentleman's broom, only waited on his horses, and washed the dishes for the cook : and when my master rode a hunting, I went behind with the dogs. Tom. O yes, Paddy, it was the groom you mean. But I fancy you was cook's mate, or kitchen boy. Teag. No, no, it was the broom that I was, and if I had staid there till now, I might have been advanced as high as my master, for the ladies loved me so well, that they laughed at me. Tom. They might admire you for a fool. Teag. What sir, do you imagine that I am not a fool ? no, no, my master asked counsel of me in all his matters, and I always give him a reason for every thing: I told him one morning, that he went too soon to the hunting, that the hairs were not got out of their beds, and neither the barking of horns, nor the blowing of dogs could make them rise, it was such a cold morning that night; so they all ran away that we catched, when we did not see them. Then my master told my words to several gentlemen that were at dinner with him, and they admired me for want of judgment, for my head was all of a lump: adding, they were going a-fishing along with my master and me in the afternoon ; but I told them that it was a very unhappy thing for any man to go a hunting in the morning, and afishingiri the afternoon ; they wouH try it, but they had better staid at horiie^ �6 for it CSQ16 ust a most terrible fine night of south west rain, and even down wind; so the fishes got all below the water to keep themselves dry from'the shower, and we catched them all but got none. Tom. How long did you serve that gentleman, Paddy. Teag. A n a , dear honey, I was with him six weeks, and he beat me seven times. Tom. For what did he beat you P was it for your madness and foolish tricks ? Teag. Dear shoy, it was not; but for being too inquisitive, and going sharply about business. First, he sent me to the post-office to enquire if there were any letters for him ; so when I came there, said I, is tliere any letters here for my master to-day ? Then tliey asked who was my master; sir, said I, it is very bad manners in you to ask any gentleman's name ; at this they laughed, mocking me, and said they could give me none, if I would not tell my master's name; so I returned to my master and told him the impudence of the fellow, who would give me no letters unless I would tell him your name, master. M y master at this flew in a passion, aad kicked me down stairs, saying, go you rogue, and tell my name directly, how can the gentleman give letters whea he knows not who is asking for them. Then I returned and told m j master's, name, so they told me there was one for him. I looked at % being very small, and asking the price of it, they told me it was sixpence: sixpence,'said I, wi$ you take sixpence for that small thing, and selling bigger ones for twopence; faith I am not such # big fool; you think to cheat me now, this is not a conscionable way of dealing, I'll acquaint my master with it first; so I came and told my master how tliey would have sixpence for his letter, and was selling bigger ones for twopence ; he took up my head and broke his cane with it, calling me a thousand fools, saying, the man was more just than to take any thing but the right for it; but I was sure there was none of them right, buying and selling such dear penny-worths. So I came again for my dear sixpence �7 letter ; and as the fellow wus shuffling through a parcel of them, seeking for it again, to make the best of a dear market, I pict up two, and home I comas to my master, thinking he would be pleased with what I had done ; now, said I, master, 1 think I have put a trick upon them fellows, for selling the letter to you. What have you done P I have only taken other two letters : here's one for you master, to help your dear penny-worth,'''and I'll send the other to my mother to see whet/ier she be dead or alive, for she's always angry I don't write to her. I had not the word well spoken, till he got up his stick and beat me heartily for it, and sent me habk to the fellows again with the two. I had a very ill will to go, but nobody would buy them of me. Tom. Well, Paddy, I think you was to blame, and your master too, for he ought to have taught you how to go about these affairs, and not beat you so. Teag. Arra dear honey, I had too much wit of my own to be teached by him, cr any body else ; he began to instruct me after that how I should serve the table, and such nasty things as those : one night I took ben a roasted fish in one hand, and a piece of bread in the other; the old gentleman whi so saucy he woiilc! not take it, and told me I should bring nothing to him without a trencher below it. The same night as he was going to bed, he called for his slippers and pish-pot, so I clapt a trencher below the pish-pot, and another below the slippers, and ben I goes, one in every hand; no sooner did I enter the room than he threw the pish-pot at me, which broke both my head and the pish-pot at one blow ; now, said I, the devil is in my master altogether, for what he commands at one time he countermands at another. Next day I went with him to the market to buy a sack of potatoes, I went to the potatoemonger, and asked what he took for the full of a Scot's cog, he weighed them in, he asked no less than fourpence ; fourpence, said I, if I were but in Dublin, I could got the double of that for nothing, and in Cork and Linsale far cheaper ; them is but small things like �8 pease, said I, but the potatoes in my country is as big as your head, fine meat, all made up in blessed mouthful? ; the potatoe-merchant called me a liar, and my master called me a fool, so the one fell a-kicking me, and the other a cuffing me, I was in such bad bread among them, that I called myself both a liar and a fool to get oil alive. Tom. And how did you carry your potatoes home from the market. Teag. Arra dear shoy, I carried the horse and them both, besides a big loaf, and two bottles of wine ; for I put the old horse on my back, and drove the potatoes before me, and when I tied the load to the loaf, I had nothing to do but to carry the bottle in my hand : but bad luck to the way as I came home, for a nail out of the heal of my foot sprung a leak in my brogue, which pricked the very bone, bruised the skin, and made my brogue itself to blood, and I having no hammer by me, but a hatchet I left at home, I had to beat down the nail with the bottom of the bottle: and by the book, dear shoy, it broke to pieces, and scattered the wine in my mouth. Tom. And how did you recompense your master for the loss of the bottle of wine ? Teag. Arra dear shoy, I had a mind to cheat him and myself too, for I took the bottle to a blacksmith, and desired him to mend it that I might go to the butcher and get it full of bloody water, but he told me he could not work in any thing but steel and iron. Arra, said I, if 1 were in my own kingdom, I could get a blacksmith who would make a bottle out of a stone, and a stOne out of nothing. Tom. And how did you trick your master out of it ? Teag. Why the old rogue began to chide me, asking me what way I broke it, then I held up the other as high as my head, and let it fall to the ground on a stone, which broke it all in pieces likewise : now said I, master, that's the way, and he beat me very heartily until I had to shout out mercy and murder all at once. �9 Tbm. W h y did you not leave him when he used yon so badly. Teag. Arra, dear shov, I could never think to leav<i him while I could eat, he gave me soT many good victuals, and promised to prefer me to be his own bonepicker. But by shaint Patrick, I had to run away with my life or all was done, else I had lost rny dear shoul and body too by him, and then come home much poorer than I went away. The great big bitch dog, which was my master's best beloved, put his head into a pitcher, to lick out some milk, and when it was in he could not get it out; and I to save the pitcher got the hatchet and cut off the dog's head, and then I had to break the pitcher to get out the head; by this I lost both the dog and the pitcher. M y master hearing of this swore he would cut the head off me, for the poor dog was made useless, and could not see to follow any body for want of his eyes. And when I heard of this, I ran away with my own head, for if I had wanted it I had lost my eyes too, then I wTould not have seen the road to Port Patrick, through Glen-nap; but by shaint Patrick I came home alive in spite of them. Tom. O larely done, Paddy, you behaved like a man! but what is the reason that you Irish people swear always by saint Patrick? Teag. Arra dear honey, he was the best shaint in the world, the father of all good people in the kingdom, he lias a great kindness for an Irishman, when he hears hiin calling on his name. Tom. But, Paddy, is saint Patrick yet alive ? Teag, Arra dear honey, I dont know whether he be dead or alive, but it is a long time since they killed .him; the people all turned heathens, but he would not change his profession, and was going to run the country with it, and for taking the gospel away to England, so the barbarous tories of Dublin cutted off his head ; and he swimmed over to England, and carried his head in his teeth, �10 P A R T XI tbm. H o w did you get safe out of Scotland P Teag. By the law dear honey, when I came to Peart Patrick, and saw my own kingdom* I knew I was safe at home, but I was clean dead, and almost drowned before I could get riding over the water; for I with nine passengers more, leapt into a little young boat, having • Silt four mei dwelling in a little house, in the one end of it, which was all thacked with deals: and after they had pulled up her tether-stick, and laid her long halter oVeibjber mane, they pulled up a long sheet, like three oair bf blankets, to the riggen of the house, and the wind • blew in that, which made her gallop up one hill and down another, till I thought she would have run to the • world's end.. Tom. Well Paddy, and where did you go when you camd to Ireland again ? Tmg* Arra dear honey, and where did I go but to triy own dear cousin, who was now become very rich by the death of the old buck his father; who died but a few weeks before I went over, and the parish had to bury him out of pity, it did not ,cost him a farthing. Tpm. And what entertainment, did you get there ? Teag. 0 my dear slioy, I was kindly used as another gendeman, and would have staid there long enough, but when a man is poor his friends think little of him: I told him I was going to see my brother Harry: Harry, said he, Harry is dead; dead said and who killed him? W h y , said he, death : Allelieu, dear honey, and where did he kill him ? said I. In his bed, says he. Arra dear honey, said I , if he had been upon Newry mountains with his brogues on, and his broad sword by his side, all the death's in Ireland had not have killed him: O that impudent fellow death, if he had let him alone till he died for want of butter milk and potatoes, I am sure he had lived all the days of his life. Torn. In all your travels when abroad, did you a*mi �I1 see none of your countrymen to inform you of what happened at home concerning your relations ? Teag. Arra, dear shoy, I saw none but Tom Jack, one day in the street; but when I came to him, it was not him, but one just like him. Tom. On what account did you go a travelling ? Teag. W h y a recruiting sergeant listed me to be a captain, and after all advanced me no higher than a soldier itself, but only he called me his dear countryman recruit; for I did not know what the regiment was when I saw them. I thought they were all gentlemen's sons, and coilegioners, when I saw a box like a bible upon their bellies; until I saw G for King George upon it, and R for God bless him: ho, ho, said I , I shan't be long here. Tom. O then Paddy you deserted from them ? Teag. That's what I did, and ran to the mountains like a buck, and ever since when I see any soldiers I close my eyes, lest they should look and know me. Tom. And what exploits did you when you was a soldier ? Teag. Arra, dear honey, I killed a man. Tom. And how did you do that ? Teag, Arra, dear honey, when he dropt his sword I drew mine, and advanced boldly to him, and then cutted off his foot. Tom. O then what a big fool was you; for you ought first to have cut off his head. Teag. Arra, dear shoy, his head was cutted off before I engaged him, else I had not done it. ffim. O then Paddy you acted like a fool: but you are not such a big fool as many take you to be, you might pass for a philosopher. Teag. A fulusipher, my father was a fulusipher, besides he was a man under great authority by law, condemning the just and clearing the guilty. Do you know how they call the horse's mother ? Tom. W h y they call her a mare. �12 Teag. A mare, ay, very well minded, my fathei was a mare in Cork. Tom. And what riches was left you by the death of your mother ? Teag. A. bad luck to her own bairen belly, fur she lived in great plenty, and died in great poverty; devoured tip all or she died but two hens, and a pockful of potatoes, a poor estate for an Irish gentleman, in faith. Tom. And what did you make of the hens, and potatoes, did you sow them ? Teag. A n a , dear shoy, I sowed them in my belly, and sold the hens to a cadger. Tom. What business did your mother follow after ? Teag. Greatly in the merchant way. Tom. And what sort of goods did she deal in P Teag. Dear honey, she went through the country and sold small fishes, onion's and apples, bought hens and eggs and then hatched them herself. I remember of a long-necked cock she had, of an oversea brood, that stood on the midden and picked all the stars out of the north-west, so they were never so thick there since. Tom. Now Paddy, that's a bull surpasses all: but is there none of that cock's offspring alive now. Teag. Arra, dear shoy, I don't think there are, but it is a pity but they had, for they would fly with people above the sea, which would put the use of ships out of fashion, and nobody be drowned at all. Tom,, Very well. Paddy, but in all your travels did you ever get a wife ? Teag. A y , that's what I did, and a wicked wife too, and my dear shoy, I can't tell whether she is gone to Purgatory, or the parish of Pig-trantrum; for she told me she should certainly die the first opportunity she could get, as tins present evil world wTas not worth the waiting on, so she would go and see what good tilings is in the world to come; so when that old rover called the Fever came raging over the whole kingdom, she went away and died out of spite, leaving me nothing but two motherless children. �13 Tom. 0 but Paddy, you ought to have gone to a doctor, and got some pills and physic for her. Teag. By shaint Patrick, I had as good a pill of my own as any doctor in the kingdom could give her. Tom. O you fool, that is not what I mean; you ought to have brought the doctor to feel her pulse, and let blood of her if he thought it needful. Teag. Yes that's what I did, for I ran to the doctor whenever she died, and sought something for a dead 01 dying woman; the old foolish devil was at his dinner, and began to ask me some dirty questions, which I answered distinctly. Tom. And what did he ask Paddy ? Teag. W h y , he asked me, How did my wife go to stool ? to which I answered, the same way that other people go to a chair: no, said he, thfet's not what I mean, how does she purge ? Arra, Mr. Doctor, said I, all the fire in Purgatory wont purge her clean; for she has both a cold and stinking breath. Sir, said he, that is not what I ask you ; whether does she shit thick or thin P Arra, Mr. Doctor, said I, it is sometimes so thick and hard, that you may take it in your hand, and cut it like a piece of cheese, or pudding, and at other times you may drink it, or sup it with a spoon. A t this he flew into a most terrible rage, and kicked me down stairs, and would give me nothing to her, but called me a dirty vagabond for speaking of shit before ladies. Tom. And in what good order did you bury your wife when she died. Teag. O my dear shoy she was buried in all manner of pomp, pride, and splendour: a fine coffin with cords in it, and within the coffin along with herself, she got a pair of new brogues, a penny candle, a good hard-headed old hammer, with an Irish sixpenny piece, to pay her passage at the gate, and what more could she look for. Tom. I really think you gave her enough along with her, but you ought to have cried for her, if it was no more but to be in the fashion. �14 And why should I cry without sorrow ? whm d two criers to cry all the way before her to keep her in the fashion. Tom. And what do they cry before a dead woman? Teag* Why they cry the common cry, or funeral lament that is used in our Irish country. Tom. And what manner of cry is that Paddy ? Teag* Dear Tom, if yen don't know Til tell you, when v my person dies, there is a number of criers goes before, saying, Luff, fuff, fou, allelieu, dear honey, what aileth ihee to die ! it was not for want oF good buttermilk and potatoes, P A R T III. .te*. WELL Paddy, and what did you do wheri youi Wife died ? * Teag. Dear honey, what would I do? do you think 1 Was such a big fdol as to die too, I am lure if I had I would not have got fair play when I to not so old yet as my father was when he died. Tomi No, Paddy/ it is not that I mean, Was fifty sorry, or did you weep for her ? Teag. Weep for her, by shaint Patrick I would not weep, nor yet be sorry, suppose my own mother and all the women in Ireland had died seven years before I was bom. ' Tom. What did you do with your children when sh# died? Teag. Do you imagine I was "such a big fool as bury my children alive along with a dead woman; Arra, dear honey, We always commonly give nothing along with a dead person, but an old shirt, a winding sheet, a big hathiner, with a long candle, and an Irish silver threepenny piece ? Tom. Dear Paddy, and what do they make of all these things ? Teag. Then Tom, since you are so inquisitive, you mu^t go ask the Priest. Ihm, What did you make of your children Paddy f �li Teag. And what should I make of them, do you Imagine that I should give them into the hands of the butchers, as they had been a parcel of young hogs : by shaint Patrick' I had more unnaturality in me, than to put them in an hospital as others do. Tom. No, I suppose you woul<Heave them with your friends ? Teag. Ay, ay, a poor man's friends is sometimes worse Ihan a profest enemy, the best friend I ever had in the Vorld was my own pocket while my money lasted j but 1 left two babes betweeii the priest's door and the parish church, because I thought it was a place of mercy, and then set out for England in quest of another fortune. Tpm. I fancy, Paddy, you came off with what they call a moon-shine flitting. Teag. You lie like a thief now, for I did not see sun, moon, nor stars, all the night then: for I set out from Cork at the dawn of night, and I had travelled twenty miles all but twelve, before gloaming in the morning. Tom. And where did you go to take shipping? Teag. Arra, dear honey, I came to a country village called Dublin, as big a city ^s any market-town in all England, where I got myself aboard of a little young boat, with a parcel of fellows, and a long leather bag. I supposed them to be tinklers, until I asked what they carried in that leather sack; they told me it was the English mail they were going over with; then said I , is the milns so scant in England, that they must send over their com to Ireland to grind it, the comical cunning fellows persuaded me it was so: then I went down to a little house below the water, hard by the rigg-back of the boat, and laid xm down on their leather sack, where I slept myself almost to death with hunger. And dear Tom to tell you plainly when I waked I did not know where I was, but thought I was dead and buried, for I found nothing all round me but wooden walls and timber above. Tom. And how did ye, to yourself to know where you w*s at last. �16 Teag. By tfie law* dear shoy, I scratched my head m a hundred parts, and then set rne down to think upon it, so I minded it was my wife that was dead and not me, and that I was alive in the young boat, with the fellows that carries over the English meal from the Irish milns. Tom. O then Paddy, I am sure you was glad when you found yourself alive ? Teag. Arra, dear shoy, I was very sure I was alive, but I did not think to live long, so I thought it was better for me to steal and be hanged, than to live all my days and die directly with hunger at last. Tom. Had you no meat nor money along with you ? Teag. Arra, dear shoy, I gave all the money to the captain of the house, or gudeman of the ship, to take me into the sea or over to England, and when I was like to eat my old brogues for want of victuals I drew my hanger and cut the lock of the leather sack to get a lick of their meal; but allelieu, dear shoy, I found neither meal nor seeds, but a parcel of papers and letters—a poor morsel for a hungry man. Tom. 0 then paddy you laid down your honesty foi nothing. Teag. A y , ay, I was a great theif but got nothing to steal. Tom. And how did you get victuals at last ? Teag. Allelieu, dear honey, the thoughts of meat and drink, death and life, and every thing else was out of mind, I had not a thought but one. Tom. And what was that Paddy ? Teag. To go down among the fishes and become a whale; then I would have lived at ease all my days, having nothing to do but to drink salt water, and eat caller oysters. Tom. What was you like to be drowned again ? Teag. A y , ay, drowned, as cleanly drowned as a fish, £>r the sea blew very loud, and the wind ran so high, that we were all cast safe on shore, and not one of us drowned at all. �17 Tom. Where did you go when you came on shore ? Teag. Arra, dear honey, I was not able to go any where* you might cast a knot on my belly, I was so hollow in the middle, so I went into a gentleman's house and told him the bad fortune I had of being drowned between Ireland and the foot of his garden; where we came all safe ashore. But all the comfort I got from him was a word of truth. Tom. And what was that Paddy ? Teag. W h y he told me, if I had been a good boy at home, I needed not to have gone so far to push my fortune with an empty pocket; to which I answered, and what magnifies that, as long as I am a good workman at no trade at all. Tom. I suppose, Paddy, the gentleman would make you dine with him ? Teag. I really thought I was, when I saw them roasting and skinning so many black chickens which was nothing but a few dead crows they were going to eat; ho, ho, said I , them is but dry meat at the best, of all the fowls that flee, commend me to the wing of an o x : but all that came to my share was a piece of boiled herring and a roasted potatoe, that was the first bit of bread I ever eat in England. Tom. Well, Paddy, what business did you follow after in England when you was so poor. Teag. What sir, do you imagine I was poor when I came over on such an honourable occasion as to list, and bring myself to no preferment at all. As I was an able bodied man in the face, I thought to be made a brigadeer, a grandedeer, or a fuzeleer, or even one of them blew gowns that holds the flerry stick to the bung-hole of the big cannons, when they let them off, to fright away the French; I was as sure as no man alive ere I came from Cork, the least preferment I could get, was to be riding-master to a regiment of marines, or one of the black horse itself. Tom. And where in England was it you listed ? Teag. Arra, dear shoy, I was going through that �18 little country village, the famous city of Chester, the streets were very sore by reason of the hardness of my feet, and lameness of my brogues, so I went but very slowly across the streets, from port to port is a pretty long way, but I being weary thought nothing of it; then the people came all crowding to me as I had been a world's wonder, or the wandering jew; for the rain blew In my face, and the wind wetted all my belly, which caused me to turn the backside of my coat before, and my buttons behind, which was a good safegaurd to iny body, and the starvation of my naked body, for I had not a good shirt. Tom. I am sure then, Paddy, they would take you for a fool ? Teag. No, no, sir, they admired me for my wisdom, for I always turned my buttons before, when the wind blew behind, but ;! wondered how the people knew my name and where I came from: for every one told another, that was Paddy from Cork: I suppose they knew my fece by seeing my name in the newspapers* Tom, Well,. Paddy, what business did you follow in Chester ?, ' Teag,. To be sure I was not idle, working at nothing at all, till a decruiting seargeant came to town with two or three fellows along with him, one beating on a fiddle, and another playing on a drum, tossing-their airs thro' the streets, as if they were going to be married, I saw them courting none but young men; so to bring mysell to no preferment at all, I listed for a soldier,—I was too big for a grandedeer. Tom. What listing money did you get, Paddy ? Teag. Arra, dear shoy, I got five thirteens and a pah of English brogues ; the guinea and the rest of the gold was sent to London, to the King, my master, to buy me new shirts, a cockade, and common treasing for my hat, they made me swear the malicious oath of devilrie against the King, the colours, and my captain, telling me if ever I desert, and not run away, that I should be -hot, find then whipt to death through the regiment �If Tom. No Faddy: it is first whipt and then shot yon mean. Teag. Arra, dear shoy, it is all one thing at last, but it is best to be shot and then whipt, the cleverest way to die I'll warrant you. Tom. How much pay did you get, Paddy ? Teag. Do you know the little tall fat seargeant that feed me to be a soldier ? Tom. And how should I know them I never saw you fool Teag. Dear shoy, you may know him whether you see him or not, his face is all Jjored in holes with the small pox, his no«a is the colour of a lobster-toe, and Ids chin like a well washen potatoe, he's the biggest rogue in our kingdom, you'll know him when you meet him again : the rogue height me sixpence a day, kill or no kill: and when I laid Sunday and Saturday both together, and all the days in one day, I can't make 8 penny above fivepence of it. Tom. You should have kept an account, and asked your arrears once a month. Teag. That's what I did, but he reads a paternoster out of his prayer book, wherein all our names are written; so much for a stop-hold to my gun, to bucklers, to a pair of comical ham-hose, with leather buttons from top to toe ; and worst of all, he would have no less than a penny a week, to a doctor; arra, said I, I never had a sore finger, nor yet a sick toe, all the days of my life, then what have 1 to do with the doctor, or the doctor to do with me. Tom. And did he make you pay all these things ? Teag. A y , ay, pay and better pay: he took me before his captain, who made me pay all was in his book. Arra, master captain, said I, you are a comical sort of a fellow now, you might as well make me pay for my coffin before I be dead, as to pay for a doctor before I be sick; to which he answered in a passion, sir, said he, I have seen many a better man buried without a coffin; sir, said I, then I'll have a coffin, die when I will, if �20 there be as much wood in all the world, or I shall not be buried at all. Then he called for the sergeant, saying, you sir, go and buy that man's coffin, and put it in the store till he die, and stop sixpence a week of his pay for it: No, no, sir, said I, I'll rather die without a coffin, and seek none when I'm dead, but if you are for clipping another sixpence off my pay, keep it all to yourself, and I'll swear all your oaths of agreement we had back again, and then seek soldiers where you will. Tom. O then Paddy, how did you end tke matter ? Teag. Arra, dear shoy, by the nights of shaint Patrick and help of my brogues, J both ended it, and mended it, for the next night before that, I gave them leg bail foi my fidelity, and went about the country a fortune-teller, dumb and deaf as I was not. Tom. How old was vou Paddy when you was a soldiei last ? Teag. Arra, dear honey, I was three dozen all but two, and it is only two years since, so I want only foui years of three dozen yet, and when I live six dozen more, I'll be older than I am, I'll warrant you. Tom. O but Paddy, by your account, you are three dozen of years old already. Teag. O what for a big fool are you now Tom, when you count the years I lay sick; which time I count no time at all. A N E W C A T E C H I S M , &c. Tom. OF all the opinions professed in religion tell me now, Paddy, of what profession art thou P Teag. Arra, dear shoy, my religion was too weighty a matter to carry out of mine own country: I was afraid that you English Presbyterians should pluck it away from me. Tom. What, Paddy, was your religion «uch a load that you could not carry it along with you ? Teaq* Yes, that it was, but I carried it always about With me when at home my sweet cross upon my deai breast, bonnd to my dear button hole. �21 Tom. and what manner of worship viid you perform by that ? Teag. Why I adored the cross, the pope, and the priest, cursed Oliver as black as crow, and swears myself a cut throat against all Protestants and church of Englandmen. Tom. And what is the matter but you would be a church of Englandman, or a Scotch Presbyterian yourself, Paddy ? Teag. Because it is unnatural for an Irishman: but had shaint Patrick been a Presbyterian, I had been the same. Tom. And for what reason would you be a Presby* terian then, Paddy? Teag. Because they have liberty to eat flesh in lent* and every thing that's fit for the belly. * Tom. What, Paddy, are you such a lover of flesh that you would change your profession for it ? Teag. O yes, that's what I would, I love flesh of all kinds, sheep's beef, swine's mutton, hare's flesh, and hen's venison; but our religion is one of the hungriest in all the world, ah J but it makes my teeth to weep, and my belly to water, when I see the Scotch Presbyterians, and English churchmen, in time of lent, feeding upon bulls' bastards, and sheep's young children. Tom. Why Paddy, do you say the bull is a fornicator and gets bastards ? Teag. Arra, dear shoy, I never saw the cow and her husband all the days of my life, nor before I was born, going to the church to be married, and what then can his sons and daughters be but bastards ? Tom. What reward will you get when you are dead, for punishing your belly so while you are alive ? Teag. By shaint Patrick I'll live like a king when I'm dead, for I will neither pay for meat nor drink. Tom. What, Paddy, do you think that you are fcc come alive again when you are dead ? Teag. O yes, we that are true Roman Catholicswill live a long time after we are dead; when we d» �m k lore with the Priests, and the good people of em profession. Tom. And what assurance can your priest give von of that? Tmg. Arra, dear shoy, our priest is a great shaint, a good shoul, who can repeat a pater-noster and Ave Maria, which will fright the very horned devil himself, and make him run for it, until he be like to fall and break his neck. Tom. And what does he give you when you are dying that makes you come alive again ? rTeag. Why he writes a letter upon our tongues, sealed with a wafer, gives us a sacrament in our mouth, with a pardon, and direction in our right hand, who to call for at the ports of Purgatory. Tom. And what money design you to give the priest for your pardon ? Teag. Dear shoy 1 wish I had first the money he would take for it, I would rather drink it myself, and then give him both my bill and my honest word, payable in the other world. Tom. And how then are you to get a passage to the other world, or who is to carry you there ? Teag. 0 my dear shoy, Tom, you know nothing of the matter: for when I dies they will bury my body, flesh, blood, dirt, and bones, only my skin will be blown up full of wind and spirit, my dear shoul I mean; and then I will be blown over to the other world on the wings of the wind ; and after that I'll never be lolled, hanged nor drowned, nor yet die in my bed, for when hxiy hits rne a blow, my new body will play buff upon it Lke a bladder. Tom. But what way will you go to the new world, or where is it P Teag. Arra, dear shoy, the-priest knows where it is but I do not, but the Pope of Rome keeps the outerport, shaint Patrick the inner-port, and gives us a direction of the way to shaint Patrick's palace, which sstands �m th* head of the SfcaHan loch, where Pi) have rs© mere to ito but chap at the gate, Tom. What is the need for chapping at the gate, is it not always open ? Teag. Dear shoy, you know little about it, for there is none can enter but red hot Irishmen, for when I call Alieh'eu, dear honey, shaint Patrick countenance your own dear countryman if you will, then the gates will be opened directly for me, for lie knows and loves an Irishman's voice, as he loves his own heart. Tom. And what entertainment will you get when you are in ? Teag. 0 my dear, we are all kept there untill a general review, which is commonly once in the week; and then we are drawn up like as many young recruits, and all the blackgaurd scoundrels is pict out of the ranks, and one half of them is sent away to the Elysian fields, to curry the weeds from among the potatoes, the other half of them to the River sticks, to catch fishes for shaint Patricks table, and them that is owing the priests any money is put in the black-hole, and then given to the hands of a great black bitch of a de?il, which is keeped for a hangman, who whips them up and down the smoky dungeon every morning for six months. Toift, Well Paddy, are you to do as much justice to a Protestant as a Papist ? Teag. 0 my dear shoy, the most justice we are commanded to do a Protestant, is to whip and torment them until, they confess themselves in the Romish faith ; and then cut their throats that they may die believers. Tom. What business do you follow after at present ? Teag. Arra, dear shoy, I am a mountain sailor and my supplication is as follows. PADDY'S HUMBLE PETITION, OR SUPPLICATION. Christian people, behold me a man ! who has com'd through a world of wonders, a hell full of hardships, dangers by sea, and dangers by land, and yet I am alive; you may see my hand crooked like a fowl's foot, and GOOD �that is no wonder at all considering my sufferings and sorrows. Oh! oh ! oh ! good people. I was a man in my time who had plenty of the gold, plenty of the silver, plenty of the clothes, plenty of the butter, the beer, beef, and biscuit. And now I have nothing: being taken by the Turks and relieved by the Spaniards, lay sixty-six days at the siege of Gibralter, and got nothing to eat but sea wreck and raw mussels ; put to sea for our safety, cast upon the Barbarian coast, among the wicked Algerines, where we were taken and tied with tugs and tadders, horse-locks, and cow-chains: then cut and castcate yard and testicle quite away, put in your hand and feel how every female's made smooth by the sheer bone, where nothing is to be seen but what is natural. Then made our escape to the desart wild wilderness of Arabia; where we lived among the wild asses, upon wind, sand, and sapless ling. Afterwards put to sea in the hull of an old house, where we were tossed above and below the clouds, being driven through thickets and groves by fierce, coarse, calm, and contrary winds: at last, was cast upon Salisbury plains, where our vessel was dashed to pieces against a cabbage stock. And now my humble petition to you, good Christian people is, for one hundred of your beef, one hundred of your butter, another of your cheese, a cask of your biscuit, a tun of your beer, a keg of your rum, with a pipe of your wine, a lump of your gold, a piece of your silver, a few of your half-pence or farthings, a waught of your butter-milk, a pair of your old breeches, stockings, m shoes, even a chaw of tobacco for charity's sake. � 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 Full .pdf reproduction of the item. 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 001: Title-page illustration of a young farmer sharpening a scythe in a field. 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 Comical Sayings of Paddy From Cork, with his Coat Buttoned Behind. Being An Elegant Conference Between English Tom and Irish Teague; With Paddy's Catechism, And his Suplication when a Mountain Sailor. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1850? per National Library of Scotland Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9934228423505154">s0585b37</a> Extent The size or duration of the resource. 24 pages 16 cm Is Referenced By A related resource that references, cites, or otherwise points to the described resource. <p><span>University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks </span></p> <p><a href="http://special.lib.gla.ac.uk/chapbooks/search/"><span>http://special.lib.gla.ac.uk/chapbooks/search/</span></a></p> 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. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Subject The topic of the resource Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow Travel Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Cork, Ireland Type The nature or genre of the resource wit & humor Description An account of the resource Woodcut #01: Illustration on title-page of a young farmer sharpening a scythe in a field. # of Woodcuts: 1 Bib Context: title-page Chapbook Date: 1841-1850 Chapbook Genre: ballads & songs Chapbook Genre: wit & humor Chapbook Publisher - Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Fashion (Clothing): bonnet Fashion (Clothing): jacket Fashion (Clothing): pants Fashion (Clothing): working class Gender: man/men Occupation: farmer Outdoor Scene Tools: scythe(s) https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/5db10cf436183fc24a98d7954f777fee.pdf 6189918b459bbd7096d155f48eed16b9 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/7c096d68554d5d1ff117772a717292e8.jpg 7f3853da9362a0826a15795a1d9ab833 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Woodcut on title-page portraying a young man wearing hat. He is standing in a field sharpening a scythe https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/f1736a3657d2478dc8003e5a715d3779.jpg 7485f1758c3a3cae85137aceb8e468b5 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/961a306506d85a518b639daa41f594e0.jpg d2be659639742c72f97113b6217204b6 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/0a1973c6eddee7839568480c43570be3.jpg f624a74f74edfa6c404e9a1539effcbf https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/4db5548b045de5fa3caa7208db444b27.jpg b3a266ea93eb49d917be72f12ae7b979 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/9e0dce78d08a01f2d4ee462fdc9736f1.jpg 962875252e9e1b628a7674592cb25fdc https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/8d9240574a4f5e9e6298bc8303c1ebb2.jpg 8bd572b6a3153d25284485cfb65b873b https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/4a62505916c762e52eb0162012d47c6f.jpg 49523a166bc15a18fe9dcf8d8d413550 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 001: Title-page illustration of a young farmer sharpening a scythe in a field. 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 Humours of Glasgow Fair. And the Comical Song of Auld John Paul. Subject The topic of the resource Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow Wit and Humor Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1840-1850 per National Library of Scotland 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 Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9923337913505154">s0024ADb76</a> Extent The size or duration of the resource. 8 pages 16 cm Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. The Comical Song of Auld John Paul 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 wit & humor Description An account of the resource Woodcut #01: Illustration on title-page of a young farmer sharpening a scythe in a field. # of Woodcuts: 1 Bib Context: title-page Chapbook Date: 1831-1840 Chapbook Genre: ballads & songs Chapbook Genre: wit & humor Chapbook Publisher - Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Fashion (Clothing): bonnet Fashion (Clothing): jacket Fashion (Clothing): pants Fashion (Clothing): working class Gender: man/men Occupation: farmer Outdoor Scene Tools: scythe(s) https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/2fcdfedf32e73fe45e8cf53bb63297f2.jpg 473c2dcf69fe85a8522da7d5106ad630 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 3244 Width 1890 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Woodcut on title-page of a dancing sailor wearing a hat and open jacket with raised hand. https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/5a20bc36f87ef3d150256936fc163cf5.pdf 19acec1745bed8e8bf7edf88ee928f7c PDF Text Text • • y* THE HUMOUROUS ADVENTURES Jump Jim Crow. GLASGOW: PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS. 27 �ADVENTURES OF JIM CROW JIM C R O W ' S F I R S T A P P E A R A N C E IN T H E GALLERY. Here's de leaping Nigger, Berry well you know Him handsome face and figure, Jumping Jim Crow. Turn about and wheel about And do jis so ; Walk into the gallery And jump Jim Crow. If you down upon your luck, Neber care a pin, Noting cures de devils blue Like a hearty grin. Comicalities you've had, T o keep de game alive, Four good Numbers,/and Jim Crow Now offers No. 5* Turn about and wheel about, And do jis so ; If you do not split your sides I'm not Jim Crow ! �3 Of soldier, lawyer, parson, W e have seen de pliizzes, Barber, tailor, cobbler, and Many real quizzes— Now hab got a fresh lot, As you soon may know, And one that won't be soon forgot, Dat's Jim Crow Turn about and wheel about, And do jis so ; Freely put your threepence down, And jump Jim Crow I Corporate Nobs hi plenty, All great men, no doubt, Berry partial to Champagne, Love a good tuck-out! Of Alderman and Sheriff We'll treat you wid a sketch, And of de ugly customer Dev call Jack Ketch. Wheel about and turn about, And clo jis so : Neber want his sarvice To finish Jim Crow. Boys you'll find in plenty, Nigger no tell lies, Laugh to see de precious lot, Ebery sort and size— i �Boys who diive cabs patent Furious troo de street, Boy dat take out physic, And boy dat carry meat. Turn about and wheel about, Anddojisso; Trow physic to de dogs, say I, And jump Jim Crow. Hungry boy of charity, Skinny as a rat, Moder's pretty darling boy, Berry plump and fat— Lazy little schoolboy, Boy dat sings out 4 pot,' Wid many other rum boys, Nigger hab forgot. Turn about, wheel about, And do jis so ; Come and have a dish of for?, And jump Jim Crow. Here you'll find how coaches Travell'd long ago, Neber 110 capsizing, Berry sure, but slow ; Den see how much quicker Modern stages run, Berry fast, but not so safe, Break de neck like fun. Turn about and wheel about, &c. �5 B y and by dose coach Go widout a team, Engineer for Jarvey, Rattle on by steam ; Crack goes de boiler, Shocking ting, you know, Better pad de hoof wid me, And jump Jim Crow. Turn about and wheel about, And do jis so ; Berry bad when boiler crack, And smash Jim Crow. JIM CROW'S PERSONAL HISTORY. I come from ole Kentucky, a long time ago, When I first larnt to wheel about, and jump Jim Crow, I us'd to take him fiddle, eb'ry morn and arternoon, And charm de ole buzzard, and dance to de racoon. Yeel about and turn about, And do jis s o ; Eb'ry time I veel about, I jump Jim Crow. At hoeing of de sugar, or picking cotton, all de same, I us'd to beat de oder niggers, and give dem twenty in de game; �At last I went to seek my fortune, got up by break of day, Left my old shoes behind me, and off I ran away. Veel about, &c. "f*llf<>U > )tiiJ ? f I came to a riber, which I couldn't get across, So gib a couple of shillings for an old -blind horse : When I got up de oder side, I drove him up a hill, Oh, but de oder side look'd rather daffakil. Den I jump aboard on big ship, and cum across de sea, And landed on ole England, where de nigger am free, Veel about, &c. JIM C R O W ' S VISIT T O CHURCH. In New York I went to a nigger meeting, It was on a Sunday night, T o see old broder Clem, Dat dey say can read and w rite. Turn about and veel about, And do jis so ; Ebery time I turn about, I jump Jim Crow. • Vhen I got to de meeting-house, Dey say you better go, �'Kase you come to raise the debil here, And jump Jim Crow. Veel about, &c. So I crept through de window And sat myself a-down, Broder Clem gub out de text, Den dey hand dey plate around. Veel about, &c. In de ninety-leventh chapter Of de new Almanack, Dare it tell you all about De white man and black. Veel about, &c. He say dat Cain was de fuss man, Julycome Csesar was de toder— Dey put Adam on de treden mill, 'Kase he kill him broder. Veel about, &c. And den dat Mr. Sampson Was de man dat build de ark, Mr. Jonas was de fisherman W h o swallow up de shark. Veel about, &c. De rain pour down forty days, By de sailors' counting, �8 * And landed Sampson and de ark Upon de Alleghany mounting. V£el about, &c. J I M C R O W ' S D E S C R I P T I O N OP HAMLET. I sabe up all de pennies, And wid a sixpence tocler day, I went to Surry Teatre, T o see de Hamlet play; Dey put me in de gallery, In a corner by myself, I look'd like a monkey dere, Grinning on a shelf. Veel about, &c. Dey puli d up de curtin, And de first ting I see, Out came Massa Hamlet Wid his 4 Be, or not to be.' Den Hamlet grab him uncle, And choke him by de troat, And shake him like de debil, De last button off him coat. Veel about, &c �a ' s n a n a s M o o a a n x uoa : a&i.&md MODSYID o-V ^uoqy A *^uod unq go uo^nq (jstq 9 ( j '[iqap op o>|i[ uuq 9>p2qs puy op Xq luiq a>[oq} puy 'spun uiiq quaS ua(j ;aq 05 jou j o 'ag , siq pi^V 39[U1B£[ 13SSBJ\[ oimja ^UQ 'aas J ^sjij 8p puy 'un.mo op dti pjpid •03$ 'inoqB 1 •jpqs is u o i w i u u u * ) <9.I9p i(05[U0Ul U 9JJIJ p t ^ 0 0 [ [ 3 m b j Q raif dramj* 'jjasXui A(\ jouioo v. u j ap m out ?nd Xa(j i o p oos ojl 'a-i^aj, ICiang oj ^uaAv j 'iCup .lapo) oouadxis ^ piAv p u y *S9iuu9d 9p jp? dn 9qus j uaircvn S.AIOHO W I f do Moujraosaa ^noqu |99A •Sui^unoui XuBqSfojjy ap uodf| op pu« uosdiueg papuBj p u y ' Boys who diive cabs patent Furious troo de street, Boy dat take out physic, And boy dat carry meat. Turn about and wheel about, And do jis so; Trow physic to de dogs, say I, And jump Jim Crow. Hungry boy of charity, Skinny as a rat, Moder's pretty darling boy, Berry plump and fat— Lazy little schoolboy, Boy dat sings out 4 pot,' Wid many other rum boys, Nigger hab forgot. Turn about, wheel about, And do jis so ; Come and have a dish of fun, And jump Jim Crow. Here you'll find how coaches Traveli'd long ago, Neber no capsizing, Berry sure, but slow ; Den see how much quicker Modern stages run, Berry fast, but not so safr, Break de neck like fun. Turn about and wheel about, &c. 8 JBy and by dose coach Go widout a team, Engineer for Jarvey, Rattle on by steam; Crack goes de boiler, Shocking ting, you know, Better pad de hoof wid me, And jump Jim Crow. Turn about and wheel about, And do jis so ; Berry bad when boiler crack, And smash Jim Crow. JIM CROW S PERSONAL HISTORY. I come from ole Kentucky, a long time ago, When I first larnt to wheel about, and jump Jim Crow, I us'd to take him fiddle, eb'ry morn and arternoon, And charm de ole buzzard, and dance to de racoon. Veel about and turn about, And do jis so ; Eb'ry time I veel about, I jump Jim Crow. At hoeing of de sugar, or picking cotton, all de same, I us'd to beat de oder niggers, and give dem twenty in de garne; �'Supunoo tsao|it?s op 'sAup ifyjoj uA\op .mod uitu oQ ^noqt? p o ^ •3jj«qs op da A\ojpA\s o q ^ ueuuaifst} ep sruv snuof -JJ,\J op pyinq ^tjp ubiu op s u ^ uosdunsg uop p u y I A\0.IQ AILF $011 III J sopis juoA ^ijds ;ou op n o i S os sif op p u y ^noqe poqAV pus ^noq^ uanj, A\OJQ onjq S|iAop op soano SurjOfsj 'uid b ojbd aoqo^ '>pii[ jinoX iiodn UAVOP noA JJ uopoaq uiiq oq as^^J, ^jiiu uopoai op uo tuupy qnd — j o p o j op sbav ouiooXjnf 'ireiu ssnj op s\?a\ uu?q ^ p Xus off 'MOJQ unf damf p u y i os sif op puy ^noqa poqA\ pus ^noq« ujuj, •AVOJQ iuif ®uiduinp pun oouj ouiospu^q iuiH avou3| noX |O V X j j o g [A 'JO&SI^ Suidttoj op S4OJOJJ ^noqe p o ^ •5{Dl3[q pau ill!RI 0}iqA\ 0(1 5,uoq^ jp? n o i fspUUBlU|V A O op j ( ) VU ao^duip qiuoA8[-^oum op uj *da? '(jnoqti p o ^ •punojB o^B[d Xop puuq Xop UOQ ' j x o j op^tio quS iuo|Q jopoag; 'uAVop-u jpsXui pay A\opuiA\ op qSnojq) ^doaa J og •a\o.i3 tutf durnf p u y 'ojoq nq^p sqi Qsit?j o? ouioo no A ost?^ unf puu. 'saoqum^ pooS ano J 4 OAip omtfS op dooq ojl 'psq oajioX sopipoiuioQ •AHSmvO 3 H X NI a r o N Y H y a j d y x s u m a v o h o Hir j o S.AIOHO s : r a n x N 3 A a v L 6 s At last I went to seek my fortune, got up by break of day, Left my old shoes behind me, and off I ran away. Veel about, &c. I came to a riber, which I couldn't get across, So gib a*couple of shillings for an old .blind horse : When I got up de oder side, I drove him up a hill, Oh, but de oder side look'd rather daffakil. Den I jump aboard on big ship, and cum across de sea, And landed on ole England, where de nigger am free. Veel about, &c. JIM CROW'S VISIT TO CHURCH. In N e w York I went to a nigger meeting, It was on a Sunday night, T o see old broder Clem, Dat dey say can read and write. Turn about and veel about, And do jis so ; Ebery time I turn about, I jump Jim Crow. Vhen I got to de meeting-house, Dey say you better go, Of soldier, lawyer, parson, W e have seen de phizzes, Barber, tailor, cobbler, and Many real quizzes— N o w hab got a fresh lot, As you soon may know, And one that won't be soon forgot, Dat's Jim Crow Turn about and wheel about, And do jis so ; Freely put your threepence down, And jump Jim Crow ! Corporate Nobs in plenty, All great men, no doubt, Berry partial to Champagne, Love a good tuck-out! O f Alderman and Sheriff We'll treat you wid a sketch, And of de ugly customer Dev call Jack Ketch. Wheel about and turn about, And do jis so : Neber want his sarvice T o finish Jim Crow. Boys you'll find in plenty, Nigger no tell lies, Laugh to see de precious lot, Ebery sort and size— m c � 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 003: Title-page illustration of a dancing sailor wearing a hat, scarf, and open jacket. 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 Humourous Adventure of Jump Jim Crow Subject The topic of the resource Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow Black Race Slavery Wit and Humor Description An account of the resource 27 at bottom of title-page Woodcut #03: Illustration on title-page of a dancing sailor wearing a hat, scarf, and open jacket Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9923337893505154">s0368b43</a> <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9923337903505154">s0564b74</a> Abstract A summary of the resource. <span>"</span>Jump Jim Crow" or "Jim Crow<span>" is a song and dance from 1828 that was done in&nbsp;</span>blackface<span>&nbsp;by white minstrel performer&nbsp;</span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thomas_D._Rice" title="Thomas D. Rice">Thomas Dartmouth (T. D.) "Daddy" Rice</a><span>. The song is speculated to have been taken from&nbsp;</span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jim_Crow_(character)" title="Jim Crow (character)">Jim Crow</a><span>&nbsp;(sometimes called Jim Cuff or Uncle Joe), a physically disabled&nbsp;</span>enslaved African<span>, who is variously claimed to have lived in St. Louis, Cincinnati, or Pittsburgh.</span><span>&nbsp;The song became a 19th-century hit and Rice performed all over the&nbsp;</span>United States<span>&nbsp;as "Daddy Pops Jim Crow"."--Wikipedia</span> 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. 8 pages 16 cm Is Referenced By A related resource that references, cites, or otherwise points to the described resource. Scottish Chapbook Catalogue, Glasgow: NLS (2 copies), Glasgow Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. Part of unbound collection (s0564b74) 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 high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph ca.519-824-4120, Ext 53413 Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario Type The nature or genre of the resource ballads & songs Bib Context: title-page Chapbook Date: 1841-1850 Chapbook Genre: ballads & songs Chapbook Publisher - Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Fashion (Clothing): jacket Fashion (Clothing): pants Fashion (Clothing): sailor uniform Fashion (Clothing): scarves Fashion (Clothing): top hat Fashion (Clothing): waist coat Fashion (Clothing): working class Gender: man/men Occupation : sailor Outdoor Scene https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/170d1c1d81b57d9718c801555ffcd207.pdf 87612f2f3d8482fceb4dfe44421620f6 PDF Text Text THE SCRAP-BOOK: A SELECTION OF THE BEST JOKES, PUNS, COMIC SAYINGS, JONATHANISMS, &c., &c. GLASGOW? PRINTED FOr THE BOOKSELLERS. Price One Penny. 2 ��THE SCRAP-BOOK. A gentleman, complaining to his bootmaker that a pate of boots recently sent were too short, and that he wanted a pair to cover the whole calf, had the following jeu sent to him :— d'esprit These boots were never made for me, They are too short by half; I want them long enough, d'ye see, To cover all the calf. Why, sir, said Last, with stifled smile, To alter them I'll try; But if they cover all the calf \ They must be;five feet high. A gentleman, who had gained a handsome fortune by unremitted industry, was once accosted with, ' I say, John, why don't you have a coat of arms on your arms ; when I first came into L I wore a coat carriage without An elderly lady, telling her age, remarked that she was born on the 22d of April. Her husband, who was present, observed, * I always thought you were born on the first of April.' ' People might well judge so,' responded A gentleman remarking that he had lost his watch through the carelessness of a servant, in leaving the house concluded by saying—' However, it was a poor one. Miss B. replied, ' Why, sir, a gentleman like you should have kept a better watch: Unguarded, A gentleman looking at his watch, just after midnight, it is to-morrow morning ! i must bid you goodnight arms.' ?' ' Oh !' said th the matron, ' in the �4 * That's what I call a repetition,' exclaimed a friend the other day. 4 What's that, Tom ?' said we. 4 Why, look at that sign across the way—J. E. Weller, jeweller.' lAm I not a little pale inquired a lady, who was rather short and corpulent, of a crusty old bachelor. 4 You look more like a big tub,' was the blunt reply. An Irishman fights before he reasons; a Scotchman reasons before he fights ; an Englishman is not accommodate his customers, particular A recent philosopher discovered a method to avoid being dunned ! 4 How—how—how?' we hear everybody asking. Never run in debt. 4 How beautiful,' said a lady, 4 the face of nature looks after undergoing a shower !' 4 Yes, madam, and so would yours"; after undergoing a similar process.' Dr. Samuel Johnson, when travelling in Invernessshire think we have been deviating the last half hour.' 4 Like 4 but I've been divoting here eneuch,' replied the man, sin' six o'clock this morning.' w A pretty girl was lately complaining to a friend that she had a cold, and was sadly plagued in her lips by chaps (cracks or clefts.) 4 Friend,' said Obadiah, 4 thee should never suffer the chaps to come near thy lips.' An American physician announces that he has changed his residence to the neighbourhood of the churchyard, which he hopes may prove a convenience to his numerous pa When Bishop Aylmer observed his congregation inattentive, he used t Bible, at which the people naturally stared with astonishment. listening to what concerned them not, while they were inattentive to matters in which their best interests were deeply involved. If wisdom's ways you'd wisely seek, Five things observe with care: Of whom you speak—to whom you speak—• And how—and when—and where. �5 4 What is light ? asked a schoolmaster of the booby of a class. 1 A sovereign that isn't full weight is light,' was the prompt reply. If your sister, while tenderly engaged in a tender conversation a glass of water from an ad joining room, you can start on the errand, but you need not return. You will not be missed, that's certain—we've seen it tried. Don't forget this, little boys. Lord Campbell tells of a judge who wound up a one-pound note, in this horribly facetious manner:—4 And I trust that, through the merits and mediation of our blessed Redeemer, you may there experience that mercy which a due regard to the credit of the paper currency of the country forbids you to hope for here.' with her tender sweetheart, as sentence of death, at because you can catc 4 Illustrated with cuts,' said a young urchin, as he drew his jack-knife across the leaves of his spelling-book. "Which travels fastest, heat or cold ? Heat does ; Why is an infant like a diamond ? Because it is a dear little thing. A correspondent asks, 4 Whom do the papers mean by Our Foreign Relations?' Why, our Cousins-German, of course. Dr. Franklin, talking of a friend of his who had been a Manchester dealer, said, 4 That he never sold a piece of tape narrower than his own mind/ There is a man at Gravesend so mean, that he wishes his landlord to reduce the price of his board, because he has had two of his teeth extracted. A fop, just returned to England from a continental tour, was asked how he liked the ruins of Pompeii. ' Not very well,' was the reply ; 4 they are so dreadfully out of repair!' During a consultation of physicians on the character of a Bacchanalian patient, how to cure his fever, and abate his thirst, the sick man observed, ' Gentlemen, if you will cure the fever, I will take half the trouble off your hands, and abate the thirst myself.' �6 A glass of soda water was offered the other day to an Irishman, who rejected it with the greatest indignation. 4 Do you think I am a salamander,' said he, 4 to drink water boiling hot V By Mac and 0 , you'll always know True Irishmen, they say; For if they lack both '0 and Mac, No Irishmen are they. Law and logic are like a piece of india-rubber, easily pulled into any shape. An amorous swain told the story of his heart's affections with a microscope. Fatal gift! she viewed his imperfections thr An authoress speaks of boys of eighteen or twenty as having arrived at an 4 age of detestability.' In a certain benighted part of the country may be seen, on the outside of a humble cottage, the following inscription in 4 A Seminary for Young Ladies This was, perhaps, too abstruse for the villagers, as immediately und 4 Notey Beny—Allso, a Gals skool.' An Irishman some time ago was committed to the House of Correction for a misdemeanour, and sentenced to work on the tread-wheel for the space of a month. He observed, at the expiration of his task,—4 What a grate dale of fatigue and botheration it would have saved us poor crathers, if they had but invinted it to go by stheeme, like all other water-mills; for burn me if I have not been afther going up stairs for this four weeks, but could not reach the chamber-door at all, at all.' A Dutch householder, bragging of his worldly gear, writes:— I've got a pig cat and I've got a pig tog, I've got a pig calf and I've got a pig hog, I've got a pig baby so pig and so tall, And I've got a pig vife dat's pigger as all. 4 Class in spelling, come up and recite.' * yeth, thir. spell effects; 4 F-X.' ' r i g h t , Next, spell seedy, 4C-D: 4 right again.' 4 John, �7 Why are young ladies like arrows ? all in a quiver when the beaus come. BecauSe they are Why is a talkative young man like a young pig ? An Irishman being informed that it was the intention of the government to call out the militia, made the where I'm quartered.' Because, following if he lives, he reply:—' I'm hanged if I care Why is a good sermon like a kiss ? Do you give it up ? Because it only requires two heads and an application I ' I do declare, Sal, you look pretty enough to eat. ' Well, Solomon, ain't 1 eating as fast as I can ? replied Sal, with her mouth full. ' Barber, I think this towel has been in use long enough !' 'It has been used more than six weeks, and no one has ever found fault with it before.' A romantic youth promenading in a fashionable street of New York, picked up a thimble. He stood awhile, meditating upon the probable beauty of the owner, when he pressed it to his lips, saying, 4 Oh that it were the fair cheek of the wearer !' Just as he had finished, a stout elderly negress looked out of an upper window, and said, 4 Massa, jist please to bring dat fimble of mine in de entry—I jist drapt it.' Two Irishmen meeting one day, one of them inquired of the other if he had seen his friend Pat Murphy lately: 1 For,' said he, ' he has grown so thin that you would not know him at all. You are thin, and I am thin, but, by the powers, he is thinner than both of us put together.' 1 Sambo, whar you get dat watch you wear to meetin' lass Sunday ? 4 how you know hab watch ? 4 Bekase I seed de chain hang out de pocket in front.' ' Go 'way, nigger ! ' Spose you see halter round my neck, you tink dar is horse inside ob me ? ^ A person in want of an occupation, and advertising for the same in the Times, informs the world, that 4 The advertiser being highly respectable, suit.' ^ This gentleman seems to be somewhat less consequential logically than he is personally. Hi given as K.—Should it not have been'S.N.O.B. ? �8 * Colonel W is a fine-looking man, isn't he ? said a friend the other day. ' Yes,' replied another ; 4 1 was taken for him once.' 4 You ! why you're as ugly as sin.' ' I don't care for that, I was taken for him once—I A witness in an Irish Court of Justice stated that he was suddenly roused from his slumbers by a blow on his head. ' And how did you find yourself ? asked the endorsed coun 4 If you are a cingle man, Pik, taik my advice, and stay so ; or, if you will marry—if you mus have a wyf— never permit yourself to be overcum by a widder ? Thems the sentiments of one who has tried and noes.' 4 It is a curious fact,' says the Medical Times, 4 that the most carnivorous quadrupeds are more averse to devouring tender sex. A witty rogue, brought before a Parisian tribunal for a drunken riot, on one occasion, assured the bench that he was not a drunkard, but in his childhood he was bitten by a mad dog, and he had ever since a horror of water. 4 1 don't like to play forfeits,' said Jemima, 4 and have all the fellows kissing me—it makes me commonprop responded Bemus. The local American papers state that a teacher in Virginia, giving lessons in geography, asked a boy, ' What state do you live in ? The urchin hit the fact when he bawled out, 4 A state of sin and misery.' Dr. Wing, being asked where a young lady's waist began, replied, 4 At the altar. The moment they have you trapped, they come down on your pocket-book like a hawk upon a May bug. After they are married they are all waste.'' What a libellous fellow ! The principal of an academy, in his advertisement, mentioned his female assistant, and the 4 reputation for teaching which she bears;' but the printer—carelessfellow forth commending the lady's reputation for 4 teaching she bears /' �9 Mrs. Partington came into the room in a state of great excitement. 4 Do you know,' said she, 1 they have formed another of those coalitions? Well, 1 declare it is too bad. The price of coals will be up to I don't know what.' ' Bill, you young scamp, if you had your due, you'd get a good whipping.' 4 1 know it, daddy, but bills are not always paid when due.' The agonised father trembled lest his hopeful son should be suddenly snatched from him. A young man being cured of a martial predilection by being present in a skirmish, it was said of him that he had an itch for military distinction, but the smell of sulphur cured it. A man by the name of Philo, who was married to a lady named Sophy, observed, that uniting his name with the lady's, put him in possession of philosophy. A captain of a vessel loading coals, went into amerchant'scounting-ho The merchant, looking towards his clerks, replied—41 have a number of them, but none, I believe, wish to be hauled over the coals.' An old farmer, whose son had died lately, was visited by a neighbour, who began to condole with him on his loss. ' My loss!' exclaimed the father, 1 no such thing— his own loss—he was of age.' A vagrant called at a house on a Sunday, and begged for some cider. The lady refused to give him any, and he reminded her of the oft-quoted remark, that she 4 might entertain an angel unawares.' 4 Yes,' said she, 4 but angels don't go about drinking cider on Sundays.' Time to me this truth has taught, 'Tis a truth that's worth revealingMore offend for want of thought Than from any want of feeling. If advice we would convey, There's a, time we should convey i t ; If we've but a word to say, There's a time in which to say it. A Yankee editor remarked, in a polemical article, that though he would not call his opponent a liar, he must that if the gentleman had intended to state what was utterly false, he had been remarkably successful in his attempt, ' Say, �10 A celebrated divine, who had prided himself upon his originality, and who would reject his best thought if he imagined it was traceable to any previous author, was startled one day by a friend coolly telling him that every word of his favourite discourse was stolen from a book he had at home. The astonished writer, staggered by his friend's earnestness, begged for a sight of this volume. He was, however, released from his misery by the other smilingly announcing the work in question to be 4 Johnson's undertake to find every word of your discourse.' D After listening to Bushfield Ferrand's fervid appeal at New Malton, a shrewd Yorkshire farmer was asked what he thought of the speech ? His reply was, simply, 4 Why, I don't know, but I think six hours' rain would nae done us a deal mair good !' A n American, formerly master of a vessel, who recently returned from California, where he has been operating for about a couple of years, was thus accosted :—' Well, Captain H., I suppose you have made enough this trip to stay at home, and lay off the rest of your days ?'— 4 Well, yes, I have made something.' Pursuinghis'interroga stuff did you bring home ?'—4 Well, sir, about as much as a good donkey could haul down-hill upon ice.' During the late session at N — — , a man was brought up by a farmer, and accused of stealing some ducks. The farmer said, he should know them anywhere, and went on to describe their peculiarity. 4 Why,*' said the counsel for the prisoner, 4 they can't be such a very rare breed— I have some like them in my yard.' 4 That's very likely, sir,' said the farmer: 4 these are not the only ducks of the sort I have had stolen lately.' There is one disease that a miser is pretty sure never to die of—-and that is, 4 enlargement of the heart.' Medicine has killed as many people as war. Powder and pills are as fatal as powder and ball. Be careful, therefore, how you allow people to shoot them into you. 4 Och, an' what's yer honor agoin' to give me, seeing as it's myself that saved yer honor's house from turnin' to ashes intirely?' 4 How, so, Pat?'— 4 An sure, when it cotched afire, wasn't I the second one that hollered fire first?' �11 Come, Doctor,' said a sinner to a clerical saint, ' 1 can give you a treat—a bottle of claret forty years old.' The doctor was in raptures, and eagerly accepted the only to be a pint bottle. ' Waes me,' said he, taking it up in his hand, 4 but it's unco wee of its age !' 44 invitation When Nelson said to his men at Trafalgar, 4 England expects every man to do his duty,' three Scotchmen who were standing at their guns exclaimed, 4 He never mentioned himself, rejoined, 4 His Lordship is just coaxing the English ; he knows Sandy will do his work when wanted, without coaxing.' A short time since, an invalid sent for a physician; and, after detaining him for some time with a description of his pains, said, ' Now, doctor, you have humbugged me long enough with your good-for-nothing pills and worthless you would strike the cause of my ailment, if it'is in your 4 It shall be done,' said the doctor, at power to reach it.' the same time lifting his cane, and demolishing a decanter of spirits that stood upon the sideboard. A man with one eye laid a wager with another man, that he (the one-eyed person) saw more than the other. The wager was accepted. 4 You have lost,' says the first; 4 1 can see the two eyes in your face, and you can see only one in mine.' An old clergyman was in the habit, as soon as he got into the pulpit, of placing his sermon in a crevice under the cushion, where he left it during the singing of the accustomed psalm. One Sunday he pushed the sermonbook too far into the crevice, and lost it. When the psalm was concluded, he called the clerk to bring him a Bible. The clerk, somewhat astonished at this unusual request, brought him a Bible as he was desired. The clergyman opened it, and thus addressed his congregation—4 My brethren, I have LOST MYSERMON; but I will read you a, chapter in JobWORTHTEN OF IT.' Mrs. Wagner having presented her husband daughter, He 'put it in the Times,' which was well; but we are not satisfied that he was called add, 'her eleventh child,' unless he intended warning to bachelors. with a all very upon to it as a ; when, to his poor Scotia;' but one of the syrups; they don't touch the re �12 An old gentleman of eighty years having taken to the altar a young damsel of sixteen, the clergyman said to him, 4 The font is at the other end of the church.'4 Whatdo beg your pardon,' said the clerical wit, 1 1 thought you had brought this child to be christened.' In a club, the other day, sat two gentlemen, one of whom has attained fame upon canvas, the other upon paper. He of the pencil was remarkably complimentary to him of the pen—so much so indeed, that the latter at length, with a good-natured laugh, exclaimed, 4 Why, my good fellow, you really show the versatility of your genius in the most striking light: you prove that you can paint not only in oil, but—in butter!' Horne Tooke, being asked by George III. whether he played at cards, replied, 4 1 cannot, your majesty, tell a king from a knave.' A sign in front of a shop in a village near Exeter, has the following :—4 Kakes and bear, sold her.' An addition in width has been added, to inform the public, that 4 1 make my sign a little vider, to let the people know that I sell sider.' A fire-eating Irishman, covered with wounds received in duels, challenged a barrister* who gratified him by an acceptance. The duellist, unable to stand without support, requeste said he, * I lean against this milestone ?' 4 With pleasure,' r against the next.' The challenger burst into a roar of laughter at the joke, and swore he would not fight so good-humoured a gentleman. A Glasgow youth walking with his sweetheart along Queen-street of that city, stopped at the door of a pastry cook's shop, and addressing his lady-love, said, ' Now, my dear, what will you take ? She, expecting to be treated to some of the good things of the shop, modestly replied, 4 1 will take anything you like.' 4 Then,' sayS he, 4 we will take a walk,' and marched past the shop. A gentleman one day observed to Henry E r s k i n e , who was a great punster, that punning was the lowest of wit* 4 It is so,' answered Erskine, 4 and therefore the foundation of all wit' �13 Maximilian being requested to grant an individual a patent of nobility for a certain sum—4 I can make you richer,' said Maximilian,4 but none can ennoble you "but your own virtue? The late Lord Jeffrey, when pleading one day before old Lord Newton, the judge stopped him, and asked him in broad Scotch, ' Whaur were ve educat, Mr. Jeffrey ?' 'Oxford, my lord.' ' Then I doubt ye maun gang back there agin, for we can mak nocht o' ye here.' On another occasion, the advocate, in stating his case before the same judge, happened to speak of an itinerant 4 Vulgarly * so called, my lord,' answered the spirited advocate. violinist. 4 D'ye mean a blin' fiddler The only kind of mistakes we are in favour of is when an old bachelor gets married. Such miss-stakes are popular among the ladies. Lord Braxfield (a Scotch judge) once said to an mon, but I'm thinking ye wad be nane the waur o' a hanginV Why should Joseph Ady be a leading man in the decided passion for the universal diffusion of letters. eloquent education culprit at the bar, 4 Yo movement ?—Because he has all We notice the marriage of Mr. Day to Miss Field, which presents this singular anomaly, that although he won the Field, she gained the Day. Some things come by odd names. The most uncommon half a mile long is a 4 brief;' and a melancholy ditty, devoid of sense or meaning, is a 4 glee.' quality in nature is called ' common The following bull appears in the AmericanPresident'smessage rece with all the world, and we seek to maintain our cherished relations with the rest of mankind.' When James Beresford, author of 4 The Miseries of •Human Life,' was at the Charterhouse School, he was a Remarkably gay and noisy fellow ; and one day, having Played truant to attend a concert, the school (says southey) was so quiet without him, that his absence WaS atoncedetected, and brought upon him a flogging. �A gentleman while skating fell into the water, and ran imminent risk of his life. A man with some difficulty preserver with a sixpence. The bystanders expressed some surprise respecting the insufficiency of the sum ; but the man coolly observed, that the gentleman knew 'best what his own life was worth, and walked off. The following anecdote is told in illustration of the Scotch veneration for the Sabbath :—A geologist, while in the country, and having his pocket hammer with him, took it out and was chipping the rock by the wayside for examination. His proceedings did not escape the quick eye and ready tongue of an old Scotch woman. 4 What are you doing there, man ? 1 Don't you see ? I'm breaking a stone.' 4 Y'are doing mair than that; y'are breaking the Sabbath.' An old bachelor, in counselling a young friend, hast a house (and a fire) to put her in.' cautioned A young gentleman was recently asked to 'take something.' sixpence, which he accordingly" pocketed and marched off. It is considered a great compliment in the east, to say to a young girl, 4 Your skin is as clear and beautiful as the fresh peel of an onion just drawn out from between its flakes!' A Bremen journal contains the following advertisement :—4 A young married, is desirous of meeting a man of experience who will dissuade him from such a step. Address,' &c. It is not always a mark of kindness to possess an open countenance* A n alligator is a deceitful creature, and yet he presents an open countenance when in the very act of taking you in. When Prince Gonzago was in England, he dined in company with Dr. Johnson, and thinking it was a polite thing to drink the doctor's health with some p r o o f that he had read his works, called out from the top of the table to the bottom—that table filled with company— 4 At your good health, Mr. Vagabond!' instead of Mr. Rambler/ �15 ' I say, Henry Charles, you have been to hong-Kong, haven't you?'—'Yes.' 'Well, can you speak China? 4 y-e-s, a little: that is, I speak broken china? 41 shall soon die, Cuffy—I must soon set out upon a long journey.' 4 Berry well (replied Cuffy), I guess hab good going, because it's all the way down hill.' Mr. Hunt, in a lecture on Common Law, has remarked, * That a lady, when she married, lost her personalidentity—herdistinctive swallowed by a sunbeam.' To such an extent is veneration for the fair sex carried in San Francisco, that a party of Oregonians stopped to have a dance round an old cast-off bonnet. ' Will the galvanic rings cure depression ?' asked a lady. 4 What has caused the complaint, ma'am V asked the doctor. 4 The loss of my husband,' mournfully replied the lady. 4 Then you had better get a wedding ring,' answered the doctor. A gentleman sat down to write a deed, and began with 4 Know all women by these presents.' 4 You are wrong,' said a bystander' it ought to be "know all men,'" 'Very well,' answered the other, 4 if all women know it, all men will, of course.' Conductor (very loud).—4Go on, Bill; here's that ugly old cove wot always kicks up such a row, and makes hisself so disagreeable, jus , Driver.—' Oh, as he ? Hi've a deuced good mind to pitch im hover, hand break his stupid old 'ed !' What news to-day ? said a merchant to his friend lately.^ 4 What news ?' responded the other, 4 nothing, only times are growing better ; people are getting on their legs again.' 4 On their legs !' said the first.' 4 1 don't see how you can make that out.' 4 Why, yes,' walk now; is not that getting on their legs again'?' ' What are you going to give me for a Christmas man, who meekly replied, that he had nothing to offer but his humble self. 4 The smallest favours gratefully received,' was the cheerful response. replied present the other, 4 folks ?' asked a merry damsel o �16 A gent, was asked what kind o f ' gal' he preferred for his wife. 4 One,' he said, 4 that wasn't prodi-gal, but frugal—a Buggins {at breakfast table).— 'Mary Anne, bring me a egg.' Finished Daughter4 An egg, if you please, father; an egg, not a egg—pray speak correctly.' Buggins4 A negg is it, my dear—a negg, eh ? Well, Mary Anne, instead of one, you may bring two neggs!' A N IRISHMAN'S DESCRIPTION OF MAKING A CANNON.— Take a long hole and pour brass round it. The Dublin Commercial Journal has the following: " One of the habitues of the theatre the other evening, talking of female authors, said that, though they have tact, grace, and finesse, they have no creative genius, and seldom produce any perfect work. i It is easy to see,' said Mrs. L., the actress,4 that it was a woman who gave you birth.' w A gentleman dining at a fashionable hotel, whose servants them for a cut of beef After a long time the lad returned, and placing it before the faint and hungry gentleman, was asked, 4 Are you the lad who took away my plate for this beef ?'—4 Yes, sir.'—4 Bless me,' resumed the hungry wit, 6 how you have grown !' 'Father,' said a juvenile apothecary, to his learned 'dad,' 4 what's the reason they don't use pestles in battle?' 4 Pestles, my son, what should they do with pestles in battle?' 4 Why, the Wellington dispatches say the mortars did great execution, and I can't see how, without pestles?' 4 Pound away, my son, and don't puzzle me with your questions. Mortars and pestles do a great deal of damage, without being used on the field of battle.' A clergyman, coming to a poor woman's cabin, amongst other questions asked her how many commandments there were? 4 Truly, sir,' said she, 4 1 cannot tell'— 4 Why, ten,' said he.— 1 A fine company,' replied she, 4 God bless you and them together.'—4 Well, but neighbour,' says he, * do you keep these commandments ?'—' Ah, the Lord in heaven bless you, sir, I am a poor woman, and can hardly keep myself; so how can I bear the charge of keeping so many commandments ? were 4 f �(17 The following notice appeared on the west end of a church in Watling Street: 4 Any person sticking bills against this church, will be prosecuted according 'to law, or ANY OTHER NUISANCE.' A horse-dealer, selling a nag, frequently observed, with much earnestness, that he was an honest horse. After the purchase, the gentleman asked him what he meant by an honest horse. 4 Why, I'll tell you,' replied the Jockey. 4 Whenever I rode him, he always threatened to throw me ; and hang me if he ever deceived me.' An Englishman and a Welshman disputing in whose country was the best living, the Welshman said, 4 There is such noble housekeeping in Wales, that I have known about a dozen cooks employed at one wedding dinner.' 4 Ah,' answered the Englishman, 4 that was because every man toasted his own cheese.' An Irishman having accidentally broken a pane of glass in a window, was making the best of his way out of sight; but, unfortunately for Pat, the proprietor"stole a march on him ; and having seized him by the collar, ' To be sure I did,' said Pat; 4 and didn't you see me exclaimed, running 4 You broke my wi home for money to p 4 1 should just like to pay you off,' as John Bull said to the National Debt. -1 wish I could get things into the right train,' as the unprotected female said to herself, when she saw her luggage going away from her in all directions. 4 ^ Why is a hen walking, like a conspiracy ?—Because it's a foul proceeding. What is the difference between a chicken with a wing and one without a wing?—There is a difference of a pinion (opinion). We may set it down as an axiom, that young ladies cannot know everybody's name, when it is utterly twelvemonth hence! A Yankee student being asked how many genders there were, said 'three—masculine, feminine, and neutral;' and defined them as follows:—' Masculine, men.; feminine, women ; and neutral, old bachelors.' impossible for them to know what �18 'Shon,' Said a Dutchman, 'you may say what you please pout pad neighbours ; I have had te vorst neighbours wit dere ears split, and todder day two of them come home missing Soon after Dr. Johnson's return from Scotland to London, a Scottish lady, at whose house he was, as a compliment ordered some hotch-potch for his dinner. After the Doctor had tasted it, she asked him if-it was good ? To which he replied, * Very good for hogs /' 4 Then pray,' said the lady, 'allow me to help you to a little more of it.' An Irish doctor advertises, that the deaf may hear of him at a house in Liffey Street, where his blind patients may see him from 10 till 3. 4 Pat,' said a gent, to his servant, 'what's all that noise in the street ?' 4 Oh, nothing, sir; they're only forcing a man to turn volunteer.' When you are in at a neighbour's in the evening, and a man asks his wife how long before she is going to bed, you may safely conclude that you had better leave. The following advertisement appeared lately in an Irish newspaper: 4 This is to notify Patrick 0'Flaherty, who lately left his lodgings, that if he does not return soon, and pay for the same, he shall be advertised.'' Some days ago, a pretty, bright little juvenile friend, some five years of age, named Rosa, was teased a good deal by a gentleman who visits the family; he finally wound up by saying: 4 Rosa, I don't love you.' 4 Ah, but you've got to love me,' said the child. 4 How so ? asked her tormentor. 4 Why,' said Rosa, 4 the Bible says you must love them that hate you, and I am sure I hate you!' At an infant-school examination a few days ago, the examiner asked, 4 What fish eat the little ones ? * The big 'uns,' shouted a little urchin. 4 Don't you understand me, Jim ?' thundered the old man. 4 Why, you must be quite a fool.' 4 True, I am very near one, meekly replied Jim. A constant frequenter of city feasts having grown enormously fat, it was proposed to write on his back, Widened at the expense of the Corporation.' �19 • * Well, Alick, how's your brother Ike getting along these times V ' Oh, first rate—got a good start in the world ; married a widow with nine children.' A little girl inquired of her friend, who had passed her eighth year, ' What causes the rain V to which the the tears shed by angels over the sins of the world.' following beautiful reply was given: ' T . A gentleman, inquiring of a naval officer why sailors generally take off their shirts when going into* action, was answered, ' that they may not nave any check to fightin'.' An American editor states that a friend of his carries his sense of honour so far, as to spend all his time in advantage of time. perfect idleness, because he do A poor Irishman offered an old saucepan for sale. His children gathered around him, and inquired why he parted with it. ' Ah, my honeys,' answered he, 4 1 would not be a f t e r parting with it, but for a little money to buy something to put in it.' A gentleman calling for some beer at another gentleman's again without drinking. 4 'What!' said the master of the house, ' don't you like the beer ?' ' It is not to be found fault with,' answered the other, 4 for we should never speak ill of the dead: table, finding it very bad, gave it to At an excellent hotel, not a hundred miles from Liverpool, they were one day short of a Wived Hibernian was hastily made to supply the place or a more expert hand. ' ' Now, Barney,' said mine host, mind you serve every man with soup, anyhow.' ' Bedad. I'll do the s a m e >' the alert Barney. °n the start, and Barney, after helping all but one guest, c a m e upon the last one. ' Soup, sir ?' said Barney." 4 No S0?P for me,' said the gent. 4 But you must have it,' l m -Barney; 'it is the rules of the house.' ' D—n the house, exclaimed the guest, highly exasperated ; 'when 'i don't want soup I won't eat it—get along with you.' well said barney, with solemnity, 'all I can say is jist the regulations of the house, and the divi'l a drop else ye'll get till ye finish the soup!' The traveller n gave in, and the soup was gobbled. �20 Lately in the Court of Exchequer, a builder'sscaff and does nothing, and orders everybody else to work.' Some time ago, a provision merchant's shop in Leith had on its signboard, 4 Butter sold here for smearing sheep and bakers.' 4 Well, John,' said a doctor to a lad, whose mother he had been attending during her illness, 'how is your mother V 4 She's dead, I thank you, sir,' was the reply. A gentleman well acquainted with a certain alderman, being asked what sort of a Lord Mayor he thought he would make, answered, ' An unaccountable one.' Horace Walpole tells a story of a Lord Mayor of small-pox twice, and died of it, asked if he died the first time or the second. Lon A servant girl said the other day, that she gave but twelve pence for the cap she had on her head ; a gentleman 4 A steam-boat (Jonathan says) has got a saw-mill on one side, and a grist-mill on t'other, and a blacksmith's shop in the middle, and down cellar there's a tarnation great pot boiling all the time.' "Why is twice eleven like twice ten ? Because twice eleven is twenty-two, and twice ten is twenty too. A letter passed through the Shields Post-office a short time ago, * For BetsyROBINSON,a Scotch Woman with One Eye, Carey Bank, North Shields.' A woman offering to sign a deed, the judge asked her whether her husband compelled her to sign. 4 He ' How is your son to-day V asked a friend of a to compose his agitated features: 4 Very bad, indeed! i would not give ten per cent, for his chance of life.' ^J 6 You had better ask for manners than money,' said a finely-dressed gentleman to a beggar boy who had asked for alms. 4 1 asked for what I thought you had the most of,' was the boy's reply. compe stockbrot �21 Pat. Murphy, residing in Raymond Street, was lately fined twenty shillings and costs, for keeping six full* grown pigs in his front 'parlour ! 4 1 wonder how they make lucifer matches?' said a young lady to her husband, with whom she was always quarrelling. 4 The process is very simple—I once made one,' he answered. 'How did you manage it?'—'By leading you to church.' W e are authorised to say that Mr. John Macdonald of Mansfield Wood House, who attained his hundredth year last November, will run any man in England, his own weight and age, for any sum. N.B.—No hurdles. A gentleman passing through one of the public offices was affronted by some clerks, and was advised to abused here by some of the rascals in this place, and have come to acquaint you of it, as I understand you are the principal.' complain to the principal A young lady, a native of Sydney, being asked if she should like to go to Britain, answered that she should like to see it, but not to live in it. On being pressed for her reason, she replied, 4 That from the large number of bad people sent out from thence, it must surely be a very wicked place to live in !' Did our readers ever remark that the gentlemen who * carry round the plate, and who are always on a cold scent after a penny, are not themselves very liberal in their contributions ? 4 Why don't you put in something?' asked a contributor, of oneof'these Sunday sub-treasurers, on one occasion. 4 That's my business,' was the reply : * what I give is nothing to nobody /' 'What are you writing there, my boy?' asked a fond parent the other day of his hopeful son and heir, a shaver of ten years.—4 My'composition, thir.' 4 What is thesubject?'—'Internationallaw, thir,' replied the Grotius ; ' but really I shall be unable to conthentrate my ideas, and give them a logical relation, if I am conthantly interrupted in thith manner by irrelevant inquiries.' A widow said once to her daughter, 4 When you are of age, you will be dreaming of a husband.' 4 Yes, mamma,' replied the thoughtless little hussy,6 for a second time, �22 * What are you about, my dear V said his grandmother to a little boy who was sliding along the room, and casting furtive glances at a gentleman who was paying a visit. 41 am trying, grandmamma, to steal papa's hat out of the room, without letting that one see it,' said he, pointing to the gentleman, 4 for papa wants him to think that he . is out.'" O'Connell, in one of his speeches in Conciliation Hall, told his followers, that if measures injurious to Ireland were brought into Parliament, he would go over to opposition to them;' and when he came back he would say, * Are you for Repeal now ?' England, A few days since, a person threw the head of a goose on to the stage of the Belleville Theatre. Cotru advancing you has lost his head, do not be uneasy, for I will restore it on the conclusion of the performance.' A Liverpool furrier informs those ladies 4 who wish to have a really genuine article,' that he will be happy to make them muffs, boas, &c., of 4THEIR OWN SKINS!' A provincial contemporary is ungallant enough to say that the ladies—Heaven bless 'em !—are never in time except on the wedding-day, and then they wait up all night to prevent being too late in the morning. An advertisement of cheap shoes and fancy articles, inserted in a certain newspaper, has the following nota bene:—4N.B. Ladies wishing those cheap shoes will do well to call soon, as they will not last long' A retired son of St. Crispin, who had amassed considerable wealth, used to put the letters F.R.S. and C. after his name. He translated them thus:—4 First Rate Shoemaker and Cobbler.' 4 What are you engaged in ?' said the head printer of a newspaper establishment to one of the compositors. 4 In an elopement.' 4 Stop,' said his interrogator, 4 1 want you to share in a murder.' 4 Make way here,' said a member of a republican deputation, 4 we are the representatives of the people.' 4 Make way yourself,' shouted a sturdy fellow from the throng, 4 we are the people themselves!' �23 The following advertisement was recently inserted in a New York paper:—6 "Wanted—An experienced nurse to take charge of a young child, between 30 and 35 years old, of unexceptionable character and good reference. None need apply who cannot produce the best testimonials.' A simple Highland girl, on her way home for the north, called, as she passed by Crieff upon an old master with whom she had formerly served. Being kindly ceremony of asking a blessing having been gone through, the poor girl, anxious to compliment, as she conceived, her ancient host, exclaimed, 4 Ah, master, ye maun hae a grand memory, for that's the grace ye had when I was wi' you seven years ago.' invited by him to share in t A countryman busy sowing his ground, two smart fellows riding that way, one of them called to him with an insolent air, 4 Well, honest fellow,' said he, 4 'tis your business to sow, but we reap the fruits of your labour.' To which the countryman replied, 4 'Tis very like you may, for I am sowing hemp.' A wit being asked what the word genius meant, replied, 4 If you had it in yo means.' A person, who was famous for arriving just at dinnertime, visitor), was asked by a lady of the house if he would do as they did. On his*replying he should be happy to have the pleasure, she replied, 4 Dine at home, then.' He, of course, had received his quietus for some time, at least. upon going to a friend's ( Two gentlemen, a few days since, took a boat at Blackfriar's-bridge to go to the Tower. One of them asked the other who sat beside him, if he could tell him what countryman the waterman was. He replied he could not. ' Then,' said his friend, ' I can ; he is a Ro-man.' A Cockney being told the above, said 4 the pun was wherry good.' During a late crowded night at Covent Garden Theatre, a pretty woman, on wh powerful sudorific, attracted general attention. Agentlemanafterviewingherfor a few minutes, exclaimed A charming painting in oil: �24 The inhabitants of Mount Street, Southampton, were alarmed one morning at three o'clock by a drunken fellow it?' exclaimed a hundred voices at once. 4 That's exactly 4 for my pipe's what I want to know,' replied the fellow, gone out.' For the gout, says one, toast and water; for bile, and patience; for toothache, pluck it out. c exercise; A venerable Scotch minister used to say to any of his flock who were labouring under affliction, 4 Time is short, and if your cross is heavy, you have not far to carry it.' La Motte, who had lost his eyesight, being one day in a crowd, accidently trod upon the foot of a young man, who instantly struck him on the face. * Sir,' said La Motte, 4 you will be sorry for what you have done, when 1 tell you that I am blind.' Coward is a feudal expression, implying cow-herd, for which employment a man void of courage was deemed only fit for. Mr. Wilmot, an infidel, when dying, laid his trembling emaciated hand upon the sacred volume, and exclaimed solemnly, and with unwonted energy, 4 The only objection Franklin, one of the greatest philosophers and the Scotch mathematician, and author of many learned works, was at first a poor weaver. Herschel, one of the most eminent astronomers, rose from the low station of a fifer boy in the army. These examples show us the happy effects of assiduity and perseverance. statesmen There are boys who think themselves men, and who goto barbers' shops to be, as they say, 4 bared.' We eard of a juvenile who went to be scraped, and the barber skin, left him and went lounging about his door. As soon as the young 4 gent.' saw him sauntering, he impatiently scre all this time here for ?' The witty barber replied, 4 I'm waiting until your beard grows!' T o FIND 4 MEAN' TIME.—Learn of Molly the maid the time of dinner, and always drop in at the exact moment. � https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/71978326b518834a84ad8e57e9ab3ea3.jpg a55484d0ed6487f8d14f9fd3e65215cf 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 young girl standing in a drawing room gesturing towards book on a table. 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 004: Title-page illustration a girl standing in a drawing room gesturing towards a book on a table. 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 Scrap-Book: A Selection of the Best Jokes, Puns, Comic Sayings, Jonathanisms, &amp;c., &amp;c Subject The topic of the resource Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1856 per University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks Language A language of the resource English 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> Extent The size or duration of the resource. 24 pages Abstract A summary of the resource. This chapbook contains 24 pages of jokes, anecdotes, and interesting stories. While many of the selections in this chapbook are of the humorous variety the topics have a great deal of range and also contain general interest stories. Is Referenced By A related resource that references, cites, or otherwise points to the described resource. <p dir="ltr"><span>University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks&nbsp;</span><a href="http://special.lib.gla.ac.uk/chapbooks/search/">http://special.lib.gla.ac.uk/chapbooks/search/</a></p> <div>&nbsp;</div> Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. Chapbook #20 in a bound collection of 34 chapbooks Description An account of the resource "2" printed at the bottom of title-page Woodcut #04: Illustration on title-page of a girl standing in a drawing room gesturing towards a book on a table. 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 high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph ca.519-824-4120, Ext 53413 Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario Type The nature or genre of the resource wit & humor # of Woodcuts: 1 Architecture: window(s) Bib Context: title-page Chapbook Date: 1851-1860 Chapbook Genre: wit & humor Chapbook Publisher - Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Fashion (Clothing): bloomers Fashion (Clothing): children's clothes Fashion (Clothing): dress Fashion (Clothing): stockings Fashion (Clothing): upper class Furniture: table(s) Gender: girl(s) Indoor Scene Object: book(s) Object: curtain(s) https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/6c6fbed7302f4b7be1b1a16e9534d06d.jpg 68475cada2590cd4885305d55ed42b8e 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 2126 Width 1331 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 Dialogue Between John and Thomas, on The Corn Laws, The Charter, Teetoalism, and The Probable Remedy for the Present Distresses Subject The topic of the resource Alcohol Chapbooks - Scotland - Paisley Description An account of the resource A debate between two fictional characters about the negative state of the Scottish economy and whether teetotalism would be a viable solution. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1842 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 Language A language of the resource English 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> Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant 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. Extent The size or duration of the resource. 6 pages 15 cm Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario