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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 Theatrical Speaker. A Selection of the Newest and Most Popular Recitations of the Present Day Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1840 Extent The size or duration of the resource. 24 pages 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> Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. Chapbook #32 in a bound collection of 34 chapbooks Abstract A summary of the resource. A collection of ballads, recitations, and verse, including a death-song of a Native American chief, a martyr’s lament who refuses to leave her husband’s side as he is tortured to death, a humorous song about an aging widow and a dyer, a celebration of the American landscape and liberty, a humorous song about a schoolmaster, a gothic tale of an unfaithful woman visited by the ghoulish apparition of her betrayed lover at her wedding, a moral tale encouraging young men not to pay mind to jeerers, a lament describing the fall of Poland, the story of a weaver who loses his pack in the snow, the song of a drunkard before and after drinking, a description of the death of Marmion at Flodden, and a conversation between a father and son detailing the evils of drinking. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Is Referenced By A related resource that references, cites, or otherwise points to the described resource. <a title="University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks" href="http://special.lib.gla.ac.uk/chapbooks/search/">University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks</a> <a title="National Library of Scotland" href="http://www.nls.uk/">National Library of Scotland</a> Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. Outalissi's Death Song How-d'ye-do and Good-bye Gertrude Von Der Wart Billy Dip Tell's Speech The Country Schoolmaster Alonzo the Brave The Old Man, his Son, and Ass On the Downfall of Poland Parody on Lord Ullin's Daughter The Drunkard and his Bottle Death of Marmion The Father Reformed Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Poland 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. Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Paisley: G. Caldwell and Son architecture: stairs Bib Context: title-page Chapbook Date: 1841-1850 Chapbook Genre: ballads & songs Chapbook Publisher - Paisley: G. Caldwell Fashion (Clothing): upper class Gender: man/men Gender: woman/women https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/fe1988e47204bbce6dfce8adccea6ff6.pdf cbc97d3c3b2fb7a911a889fd6f49e1b2 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/f9041b6700d0733b9bfdf813135bf21e.jpg b98c54e466a5b871cee042a29afa1878 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/211951d0c3bbb221a1bd003bcef1e56a.jpg dfa667ea19dec86cf0787205c5e6bc66 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/6819085c14417e71a34e98fd6f6f2ef2.jpg 13781101506636c12c72bba1f91500f6 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/ccc1bcf65cba62f4c7a7b7eedd881892.jpg 5575109d41c5c7e64a467f467f42e04a https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/28bc5abd57c66466fc09455c283da771.jpg e23e0506adce63a6187c2fb81b19685d https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/88a61d5e6ddd4113d8299447d9c76666.jpg 65b2684e49567cf57b51f02bc93b3c50 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/7a127a6f6f0570309975cdae560acd55.jpg c0c4decdfdacfa8cc903bbb8bc032541 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/df83af92917726eb5bdfcef9d3eb67ad.jpg c38b872ca828baf1a7b811a1e59d3ed1 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/c2f8e71da4fa61e1619dfd60a878671f.jpg b2893bf94b6a8b80ded8b94bdec2a6ae 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 A Night Frae Hame, Oration on Teetolization, and Parody on the Last Rose of Summer Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1842 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> Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. Chapbook #21 in a bound collection of 34 chapbooks Abstract A summary of the resource. This song tells the humorous story of a young man who gets caught up in a tavern brawl after a night of drinking, with many descriptions of common Vices and Virtues which are involved. The song is followed by a speech that extolls the virtues of abstinence from alcohol and the evils of drinking, all in rhyme. The collection concludes with a short humorous song about the last coin in a purse which is spent on a drink at a tavern Subject The topic of the resource Ballads and songs Chapbooks - Scotland - Paisley Wit and Humor Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Is Referenced By A related resource that references, cites, or otherwise points to the described resource. <a title="University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks" href="http://special.lib.gla.ac.uk/chapbooks/search/">University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks&nbsp;</a> Extent The size or duration of the resource. 8 pages Description An account of the resource In verse 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: G. Caldwell and Son 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: 1841-1850 Chapbook Genre: ballads & songs Chapbook Genre: wit & humor Chapbook Publisher - Paisley: G. Caldwell and Son https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/dc983350df7208cd4c509842c583a459.pdf e8e90685252333d8abc834ad0e20d1ee PDF Text Text 9MMU mmem** THE i I'M" i I i OLD SCOTTISH TRAGICAL BALLAD OF SIR JAMES THE ROSE Of all the Scottish northern chiefs, Of high' and warlike name, The bravest was Sir James the Rose, A knight of meikle fame. DUNDEE P r i n t e d f o k J T H E B O O K S E L L E R S . K •k �SIR .TAMES HUT THE ROSE. JA3IO/HT HHTTO)* <|JO m ill I the Scottish norihern chiefs, . . < >f hisjfi . Mtirl warfikc name, it \ — ;| w t £ sir James the Hose A kifiuht of meifee i'iftne.1 i\ I i His growth wa> like the youthful oak, That crowns the mountain's brow, And waving o'er his shoulders broad. His locks of yellow flew. # •• Wide were hisjlmlds, his herds were large, And large his flocks of sheep, And numerous were his goats and deer, Upon the mountains steep. The chieftain of the good clan Rose, A firm and warlike band, Five hundred warriors drew the sword, Beneath his high command. In bloody fight thrice had he stood Against the English keen, Ere two and twenty opening springs The blooming youth had seen. , The fair Matilda dear he loved— A maid to beauty rare ; Ev'n Margaret on the Scottish throne Was never half so fair. • T, , .. , |/f . | �Long had lie wooed, long she r e f u s e , With seeming scorn and pride ; Yet oft her eyes confessed the love Her fearful words denied. A t length she blessed his well-tried love Allowed his tender claim ; She vowed to him her tender heart. And owned an equal flame. Her father. Buclian's cruel lord, Their passion dis-approved ; He bade her wed Sir John the G ramie, And leave the youth she loved. One night they met as they were wont, Deep in a shady wood, Where on the bank beside the burn, A blooming saugh tree stood. Concealed among the underwood The crafty Donald lay, The brother of Sir John the G ramie, To watch what they might say. When thus the maid began, My Sire Our passion dis-approves, He bids me wed Sir John the Gramme, So here must end our loves. • My father's will must be obeyed, Nought boots me to withstand, Some fairer maid in beauty's bloom Shall bless you with her hand. Soon will Matilda be forgot, And from thy mind effaced ; But may that happiness be thine, Which J can never taste, �4 What do I hear! is this tliy vow ? Sir James the Rose replied; And will Matilda wed the Graeme, Though sworn to be my bride ? ;": • , . iH His sword shall sooner pierce my heart Than reave me of thy charms— And clasped her to his throbbing breast, Fast locked within his arms. 1 spoke to try thy love, she said, I'll ne'er wed man but thee ; The grave shall be my bridal bed If Graeme my husband be. i : ; -• Then take, dear youth, this faithful kiss In witness of my troth, And every plague become my lot, That day I break my oath— They parted thus—the sun was let— Up htfsty Donald flies. And turn thee, turn thee, beardless youth, He loud insulting cries. Soon turned about the fearless chief, And soon his sword he drew ; For Donald's blade before his breast, Had pierced his tartans through. This for my brother's slighted love, His wrongs sit on my arm— Three paces back the youth retired, And saved himself from harm. Returning swift his sword he reared, Fierce Donald's head above ; 0 And through the brain and crashing bone, Hi» furioas weapon drove, 1 �Life issued at the wound—he fell A lump of lifeless clay ; So fall my foes, quoth valient Rose, Aucl stat'ely strode away. ,(!'?»;: i U Thro' the green wood iu hast he passed, Urito Lord Buchan's hall, Beneath Matilda's window stood; A n d thus on her did c a l l : o I . n tV»f> oi 'vjl-.ntii i't Hi'l Art thou asleep, Matilda dear ? Awake my love awake; Lehold thy lover waits without, A long farewell to take. Avi : n >d) t-i'. !. hi - ! •/ For I have slain fierce Donald Graeme His blood is.on my sword ; A n d far, far distant are" my men, Nor can defend their lord. .-•jib rnifuuiii 0*10 out /ft T o Skye I will direct my flight, Where my brave brothers bide, Ito raise the mighty- of the Isles, T o combat 011 my side. 0 do not so the maid replied, With me till morning stay : ' * For dark and dreary 4s' the night, And dangerous is the way. i! . All night I'll watch thee in the park, My faithful page I'll send In liase to raise the brave clan Rose, Their master to defend, •biSJjC:: j s rj U! ? • It / He laid him down beneath a bush, And wrapped'liini in his plaid; While trembling fop her lover's fate, A t distance stood the maid. �.6 Fwift ran the page o'er hill and dell, Till in a lowly glen, He met the furious Sir John Graeme With twenty of his men. Where goest thou little page, he said, So late ? who did thee send ? I go to raise the brave clan Rose, Their master to defend. For he has slain fierce Donald Graeme His blood is on his sword, And far, far distant are his men, Nor can assist their lord. And has he slain my brother dear ? The furious chief replies ; Dishonour blast my name but he By me ere morning dies. Say page where is Sir James the Ros« ? J will thee well reward— He sleeps into Lord Buclian's park, Matilda is his guard. They spurred their steeds and furious flew Like lightening o'er the lea ; They reached Lord Buchan's lofty tower By dawning of the day. Matilda stood without the gate, Upon a rising ground, And watched each object in the dawn, All ear to every sound. Where sleeps the Rose? began the Grame Or has the felon fled ? This hand shall lay the wretch on earth, Uy whom my brother bled, A �7 Last day at noon, Matilda said, Sir James the Ro-e passed by. Well mounted on his noble steed, And onward fast did hie. By this time he's in Edinburgh Town, If horse and man hold good ;— Tour page then lied who said he was Now sleeping in the wood. She wrung her hands, and tore her hair Brave Rose thou art betrayed. And ruined by tlio.e very means' From whence 1 hoped thine aid. And now the valiant knight awoke, The virgin shrieking heard ; Straight up he rose and drew his sword, When the fierce band appeared. Your sword last night my brother slew, His blood yet dims its shine; And ere the Sun shall gild the morn, Your blood shall reek on mine. Your words are brave, the chief returned, But deeds approve the man, Set by your men and hand to hand We'll try what valour can. With dauntless step he forward strode, And dared him to the fight; The Graeme gave back, he feared his arm For well he knew his might. Four of his men, the bravest four, Sunk down beneath his sword ; But still he scorned the poor revenge. And sought their haughty lord. �a -' Behind him basely came the Graeme, And pierced him in the side ; Out sprouting came the purple stream, And all his tartans dyed. But yet his hand dropped not the sword, Nor sunk he to the ground, Till through his enemy's heart the steel, Had forced a mortal wo and. Grseme, like a tree by wind o'er thrown, Fell breathless on the clay ; And down beside him sunk the Rose, And faint and dying lay. Matilda saw and fast she ran, O spare his life, she cried; Lord Buchan's daughter begs his life, Let her not be denied. Her well-known voice the hero heard, And raised his death closed eyes, He fixed them on the weeping maid, And weakly this replies : In vain Matilda begs a life, By deaths arrest denied ; My race is run—adieu, my love • Then closed his eyes and died. The sword yet warm from his left side, With frantic hand she drew ; I come, Sir James the Rose, she cried, I come to follow you. The hilt she leant against the ground, And bared her snowy breast, Then fell upon her lovers face, And sunk to endless rest. � https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/7fe20f4add0dfa2b5d3f0e4701583a80.jpg 11f06c4c43cb666c7e28768b00fadb5a 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 Old Scottish Tragical Ballad of Sir James The Rose. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9943895893505154">s0615b42</a> Extent The size or duration of the resource. 8 pages 19 cm Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource [184-?] per National Library of Scotland Description An account of the resource "Of all the Scottish northern chiefs, Of high and warlike name, The bravest was Sir James the Rose, A knight of meikle fame." quoted on title-page Is Referenced By A related resource that references, cites, or otherwise points to the described resource. <a title="University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks" href="http://special.lib.gla.ac.uk/chapbooks/search/">University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks&nbsp;</a> <a title="National Library of Scotland" href="http://www.nls.uk/">National Library of Scotland&nbsp;</a> Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Accrual Method The method by which items are added to a collection. <span>Purchased through&nbsp;</span><span class="searchword">Jane</span><span>&nbsp;</span><span class="searchword">Grier</span><span>&nbsp;Family Trust. 2012</span> 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 Dundee: Printed for the Bookseller Subject The topic of the resource Ballads and songs Courtship and Marriage 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: 1841-1850 Chapbook Genre: ballads & songs Chapbook Genre: romance Chapbook Publisher - Cundee: Printed for the Booksellers https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/3821074f58788f8b0249e7c09e4d097d.pdf 434e6b1a2cbe5fa0a58db6a87dfa1981 PDF Text Text SBVJBN JOCK 0 ' HAZELDEAN. THIS IS NO MY AIN LASSIE. LOGAN WATER. BANKS OF ALLAN WATER. SOMEBODY. T H E Y ' R E A' TEASING ME. TO ALL YOU LADIES. GLASGOW: PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS. �SONG'S JOCK 0 \ H A Z E u m m . 4iWfiy weep ye by the1 title, lady? Why w.epp ye by .the tide ? M -ared'ye-to my youngest Sony And rye (shall be his bride,. And ye shall be his bride, lady, Sa© comely to be seen :" But aye she loot the tears clown fa* ¥w Jock o? Hazeldean. " Mow let this wilful grief be done, And dry that cheek so pale ; Young Frank.is chief of Errington, And Lord of Langley dale. His,.step-is-first in peaceful ha5, . His sword in ; battle keen But sjjr ihe loot the tears down fa? Wm lock o' Hazeldean. A ciiaxn 4f gold ye shall not lack, JSfor braid to bind .your hair, Nor mettl'd hound, nor managed hawk, Nor palfrey fresh an d fair. si �3 And you the foremost o' them a* Shall ride, our foremost queen :>r But aye she loot the:tears down fa* For Jock o' Hazeldean. The kirk w&s cleck'd at morning tide,, The tapers glimmer'd fair, The priest and bridegroom, wait the Bride* And dame and knight are there. % They sought her baith by bower and The lady was not seen ; She's o'er the border and awa, "Wi' Jock o' Ilazeldean. THIS IS NO MY AI1SF LASSIE. This is ho my ain lassie, Fair though the lassie be ; 0 well ken I mine ain lassie, Kind lore is in her. ee. I see a form, I see a face, Ye weel may wi' the fairest place; It wants to me the witching grace, The kind love that's in her ee. 0 this is no, &c. She's bonny, blooming, fresh and tall, And lang has had my heart: in thrall, And aye it charms my very sauI; The kind love that's in her ee. 0 this is no, &c. �4 A tliief sae pawkie is my Jean, To steal a blink by a' unseen ; But gleg as light are lovers' een, When kind love is in the ee. 0 this is no, &c. It may escape the courtly sparks. It may escape the learned clerks ; But weel the watching lover marks The kind love that's in her ee 0 this is no, &e. SOMEBODY. My heart is lair, I darena tell, My heart is sair for somebody, I could wake a winter night, For the sake o' somebody. Och hon, for somebody ! Och hey, for somebody I could range the world around, For the sake o' somebody. Ye pow'rs that smile on virtuous lov 0, sweetly smile on somebody : Frae ilka clanger keep him free, And send me safe my somebody Och hon, for somebodj 1 Och hey, for somebody I 1 wad do, what wad I not, For the sake o' somebody �LOGAN W A T E R . O Logan, sweetly didst thou glide, That day I was my Willie's bride: And years sinsyne hae o'er us run, Like Logan to the summer sun. | But now thy flow'ry banks appear Like drumlie winter, dark and drear, While my dear lad maun face his &tes, Far far frae me and Logan braes. Again the merry month of May, Has made our hills and valleys gay, The birds rejoice in leafy bowers, The bees hum round the breathing flowers Blythe morning lifts his rosy eye, And evening tears are tears of joy ; My soul, delightless, a' surveys, While Willie's far frae Logan braes. Within yon milk-white hawthorn bush, Amang her nestlings sits the thrush, Her faithfu' mate will share her toil, Or wi' his song her cares beguile ; J j But I wi' my sweet nurslings here, Nae mate to help, nae mate to cheer, Pass widow'd nights and joyless days, While Willie's far frae Logan braes. O, wae upon you men o' state, That brethren rouse to deadly hate! As ye make mony a fond heart mourn, Sae may it on your heads return. �6 How can your flinty hearts enjoy, The widow's tear, the orphan's cry? But soon may peace bring happy^ days, And Willie frame to Logan braes ! BANKS OF A L L A N WATER. On the banks of Allan water, When the sweet spring time did fall, Was the miller's lovely daughter, Fairest of-, them, all. For h;s bride a soldier sought Iier, And a winning tongue had Be ; On the banks of Allan water, None so gay as she. Oil the banks of Allan water, When brown autumn spreads his store, There I saw the miller's daughter; But she smiled no more. For the summer grief had; brought her, And her soldier false was he : On the banks of Allkn water, None so sad as she< On the banks of Allan water, When the winter snow fell fast. Still was seen the miller's daughter, Chilling blew the blast. But the miller's lovely daughter, Both from cold and care was free— Qm the banks of Allan water, .There a corse lay she. �7 THEY'RE A' TEASING ME. 0 wha-islie I loe sae weel? Wha was my heart an'a;*, (3 wha as 'he ? 'tis mir to 'tell He's o'er'the seasawa', There's Charlie he'sa sodger lad, And. Davie'Myfhe is he, And Willie in his tartan plaid, They're a'teasing me. 0 they're a' tease teasing, They're a' teasing me. They're a' tease teasing, 0 they're a teasing me. There VGarl fe chief o' Daftue glen, < And he has land and store, With flowfrymead, and shady fen, And siller o'er and o'er. irry thee And thou my ain true bride shall be, AncI Queen o' Daftne ha !!? 0 they 're .a' tease, &c. But irhen my Jamie comes again, Young1 Carl will then descry, That siller is but Jempty gain, To hearts nae gowcl can buy, My Jamie's brave,, my Jamie's braw, My Jamie's a' to nie, And tho' his siller store be sma' 1 1 Yet his I ' " �TO ALL YOU LADIES, To all you laclies now at land, We men at sea indite, But first would have you understand TIow hard it is to write. The Muses now, and Neptune too, We must implore to write to you, 1T0 write to you, With a fal, lal, lal, la, la, la, la, With a fa With a fa, &c. Injustice you cannot refuse To think of our distress, When we, for hopes of honour, lose Our certain happiness ; All these designs are but to prove Ourselves more worthy of your love, More worthy of your love. With a fal, &c. Arid now we've told you all our loves, And likewise all our fears ; In hopes this declaration moves Some pity for our tears ; Let's hear of no inconstancy, We have enough of that at sea, Of that at sea. With a fal, &c, � https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/60aa6d750ba38ad86ae11fc9db6780ee.jpg 1ffcbd2042986e1e2b1aee8429700826 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 082: Title-page illustration of a young woman carrying a basket and balancing a bird cage on her head. Outdoor scene. Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Seven Sentimental Songs. Jock O' Hazeldean. This is no my ain Lassie. Logan Water. Banks of Allan Water. Somebody. They're a ' Teasing Me. To all you ladies. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9943895763505154">s0615b51</a> 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 Description An account of the resource 69 at bottom of title-page Extent The size or duration of the resource. 8 pages 14 cm Is Referenced By A related resource that references, cites, or otherwise points to the described resource. <p dir="ltr"><span><a title="University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks" href="http://special.lib.gla.ac.uk/chapbooks/search/">University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks</a><br /></span></p> <a title="National Library of Scotland" href="http://www.nls.uk/">National Library of Scotland&nbsp;</a> Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. Jock O' Hazeldean. This is no my ain Lassie. Logan Water. Banks of Allan Water. Somebody. They're a ' Teasing Me. To all you ladies. Subject The topic of the resource Courtship and Marriage Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow 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 Accrual Method The method by which items are added to a collection. Purchased through Jane Grier Family Trust. 2012. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario Type The nature or genre of the resource ballads & songs # of Woodcuts: 1 Activity: walking Animal: bird(s) Architecture: fence Bib Context: title-page Chapbook Date: 1841-1850 Chapbook Genre: ballads & songs Chapbook Publisher - Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Fashion (Clothing): working class Gender: woman/women Nature: tree(s) Object: basket(s) Outdoor Scene https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/99417d3fb39b9e076a7d1bef7713f8da.jpg 1493b294d51281f5257e2ffea24a2acd 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 man wearing a hat, kilt, and plaid socks holding an upright rifle. To his left is a door marked with the letter V https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/2d135d415d4ee14736badbfab42f7034.pdf dbe096b4429bd3b1427f595c3acdc397 PDF Text Text �r THE UlSI'QRIc i* 4 ,; WILL % , i % AN® .so v s J J E A N . j * • $ TO B T p a i a a . d A B &HT like Willie $ WHA wasinanceb o u r i n g tow^iGairlace, Wha la B eap t ^ s* plow n: \v afe in 1 i 3 fair "face, 1 C > % Deadly strength was in iiis arm. f | f * ^^ . Wlia wi* Will could riii or wrastle, Throw the sledge d#t!>ssf tgie bar, 4> C Hap what would* he stood a castle, Or for safety or for Wa?. # % % v^ll C W a r m his he ait/ and mild as tnarifu, ^ W i ' the hauld he bauld could be 5 \ But to friends wha had {ftfjjjjbhldfii} % f, Purse ^tid service aye-war free* W h a n he first saw JedhJfe Miller, W h a wi* leaftie could compare ? * Tliousands had.maiE braws and siller, B u t was ony half so Talr ? Kind and gentle wWiiQf naiitfe ; & A t jlk |}lace she kjre the bell, 1 Vi if Sic a bloom, and shape, and stature ! B u t her look nae tongue can tell J S F\ <|| 1 S •f 1 :m M M <$.; ^ i �Sic was Jean, { whan \\ r ill first Flawing Spied her 16ri a 'piillwartl Inwig^ Flew like fire, and, just when fa'irig. Kept her on his manly breast. Light he fe^Wpf,' ^ a l ^ a ^ a ^ ^ ^ i ^ Q Cross the meadow fragrant, green, t ; Placed her on the new mowai rashgs*Watching sad Her opening eert. ( ! Sic was Will, >vheit poor .Teanf |§}$iij»g* Drap into a lover's arms; ,, ' , . Wakened to his £aft lamenting, -f, > Sighed and Unshed a thousand charms. Soon they loo'd, and soon was hucldeA Nane took tirne to think and rue; Ytm^l and wqrth, and beaufcy> coupled, had titter l e s s \ o do. r r r„ hellevin) yeib nO. Thre^^Hcirt yfcahf flew by fu' cautf^ ; Jeaif* arid Will 'thought then! biit ane;; Hkh day brought joy and pleijLty, ,t , | Ilka year a daitity wean. Will wrought sair, but aye wi? pleasure ; Jean the hale day span and sang * ; Will atid weans her constant treasure, Blest wi' them, nae day seemed lang. • , .. , z'sJv/ # otwod B fll Trig her house, and 0I11 to busk. aye; Hk sweet bairri was A?fyerpride* ^ But at this time N E W S and W H l § K Y Sprang iiafc tip at ilk road side. �4 Luckless was the hour whan Willie. Hame returning frae the fair, O'ertook Tam, a neebour billie, Sax miles frae their hame and mair Simmer's heat had lost its fury; Calmly smiled the sober e'en, Lasses on the bleachfield hurry, Skelping barefit owre the green : Labour rang wi* laugh and clatter, Canty hairst was just begun, And on mountain, tree, and water, Gljnted saft the setting sun. 1 •&nru.i/•'• ' ' Will and Tam, wi' hearts a' louping, Mark't the hale, but could nae bide; F a r frae hame, nae time for sioppiiig,—Baith wished for their ain R e side, On they travelled, warm and drouthy, Cracking owre the npws in town ; The mair they crack't, the mair ilk youth aye Prayed for drink to >V£sJti. news do Wit. Fortune, wha but seldom listens , XtPftdcte M&x:ft?'s modest prayer^ And on foofe pofirs needless blessings, Hearkened to our drouthy pair. In a howm, wha's bonny burmg. | 10X[ <oWf Whimpering rQwed its crystal flood^f]] Near the road wliW travellers turn aye, Neat and biejd a cot-house stood j ^ v �5 White the wa's wi' roof new theekit, Window broads just painted red ; Lown 'mang trees and braes it reekit, Haflins seen and haflins hid. Down below a flowery meadow Joined the burnie's winding line Here it was that H O W E the widow That same day set up her sign.^ Brattling down the brae, and near its Bo t to in, Will first marvelling sees, " PORTER, A L E , & BRITISH S P I R I T S , " Painted bright between twa treesi Huzza, Taii}iI here's walth for drinking: W h a can this new comer be ? Hout, quo Tam, there's drouth in: thinking, Let's in, Will, and syne we'll see. Nae mair time they tool? to speak or Think of ought but reaming jugs, Till three times in humming liquor, Ilk lad deeply laid his lugs. Slockened now, refreshed and talking, In cam Meg (weel skilled to please), Sirs, ye're surely tired wi"' walking, Ye maun taste my bread and cheese. Thanks, quo Will, I canna tarry, Pick-mirk night is setting in ; Jean, p'uir thing's her lane and eery— I maun to the road and riu. �6 Haat, quo Tam, what's a* the huttfyK Hame's npw scarce a mile of gate— Come, sit down, Jean winna wearier Hout, I'm sura it's no sae late Will owrecjtfiafc wif Tairi's oration Baith fell ibo and ate their fill; Tam,vq.uO Will, in mere discreti^ii^ W e inan® Hae th&. widfew'g giBi ^ After ae gill cam aiiither— fil 1 ^ Meg sati cracking 'tween th^fl Cwa; Bang- cam; m Mat Smith arfd's Mihe^,^ Geqrdie Brawn and Sandib ^Sti&w. :N^ebt>urs whs ne'er thotighfrni&Im^hfere, Now skt dawn wi' ckuMe flee, Hfc gUL aye grehv • s week and sweeter, f 0 5 i Will gat hame 'tweeft W a tferee. Jean, piiir fhing/ Wd lang^ Been greeting; Will, niest morning blathed Tan* Lowes, 1 But ere langan owkly Meeting 0 W a s set ap at M%gle f 5SbWe^. Maist things hae a sma "beginning, B u t wfia kens how things ^ill end ? Owkly cliiJis are nae great sinning, a Giu folk' hae enough to spend. But nae man of sober thinking E'er will say that things' can thrive, If there's spent in owkly drinking W h a t keeps wife and weans alive. �Drir& maun, aye hae conversation, ' v ffia social r«»-:l allocs; V ' ., M t to this reforming nation" , 5 " ^ W f f i r a i P p a i r without; M W l f r s ? MaggV£ te^fe! bouji1 M iial i i p f Potind ere Jang the fault," and ae night .awe CMli l <f a n d g a t the W ^ M i M r 1 S # f t 1'iy N o u g h t s spring up like plants i r i ^ l i o u s e iLtety time tne news are read. Ilk a n ^ H f BVin "Jn.'! Things are no gaun riglit, quo Tain, > Let lis aitener meet thegither,. Twice % owk's iio worth ilie gauri ri . i •: .. sift raid wu3 t bee jthenVnow in grave convenfjvn,^ To make a'" things Square and t ven, Or r 4t least wi' firm intpntiqn V .ryf To drint sii1 nights out o' seven. " 'Mid this sitting up and dxinking. Gathering a' the news:that fell, ^Till, wlia ^Tasna yet 5 H a d some Battles w t hirn sel. y 4 Oti ae liandi Jnnk's: deadly poison". Bare ilk firm resolve awa ; j * j ~;., On the ither, Jean's condition ' Rave his very heart in twa. �8 W e e l he saw her smothered sorrow ; Weel he saw her bleaching cheek l Marked the smile he strave to borrow, W h a n , puir thing, she couldna speak. Jean, at first took little head o* Owkly clubs 'mang three or four, Thought, kind soul, that Will had need o* Heartsome hours when wark was owre. B u t whan now that nightly meetings* Sat and drank frae sax till twa, ; W h e n she found that hard earned gettings Now on drink war thrown awa; Saw her Will,'wha ance sae cheery Raise ilk morning wi' the lark, Now grown mauchless, dowf, and swear aye To look near his farm or wark; Saw him tyne his manly spirit, Healthy bloom and sprightly e'e ; And of love and hairie grown wearit, Nightly frap his family flee; W h a could blame her heart's complaining ; W h a condemn her sorrows meek, Or the tears that now ilk evening Bleached her lately, crimsoned cheek ? W i l l , wha lang had rued and swithered* ( A y e ashamed of past disgrace) ; Marked the roses as they withered Fast on J eanie's lovely face. �Marked, and felt wi1 inward racking A ' the wyte lay wi' himsel, Swore neist night he'd mak a breaking—• D—d the club and news to hell I But alas ! when habit's rooted Few hae pitli the root to p u ' ; Will's resolves were aye nonsuited,-— Promised aye—but aye gat f u \ Aye at first at the convening Moralized on what was right; Yet on clavers entertaining D m d and drank till broad day-light. • Things at length drew near an ending C*sh rins out—Jean quite unhappy, Sees that Will is now past mending Tynes a* heart, and taks a drappy. Jean, wha lately bare affliction W i ' sae meek and mild an air, Schooled by whisky, learns new tricks soon, Flytes, and storms, and rugs Will's hair, Jean, sae late the tenderest mither, Forid of ilk dear dauted wean ; Now heart-hardened athegither, Skelps them round frae morn till e'en. Jean, wha, vogie, locked to busk aye In her hame-spun, thrifty wark, Now sells a her braws for whisky, To her last gown, coat, and sark* �10 B a i t y Bam^j in mony a ditty* toudly sings in whisky's prain $ jSyeet his sang—the mair's die pity "©er on it he wared sic lays. Of a' the ills poor Caledonia Ever preed or e'er will taste, Brewed in hell's black Pan demon ia, Whisky's ill will skaith her maist. See them now ! how changed wi' drinMng A' their youthful beauty gane I Davered, doited, daized, and blinking, Worn to perfect skin and bane I In the cauld month of IvT«vember, " ( C i a ^ , ^ili cash, jind credit'put,) Cowering owre a dying ember, Wi* ilk face as white's a clouti ? I Bond, and bill, and debts a' stoppit, Ilka sheaf selt on the tent, (]^ttle, |ieds, and hlankits roupit Now, to pay the laird his rent. No anitlier night to lodge here, N o a friend their cause to plead J • l i e taen on to be a sodger, - ^ wo'M 0fis yn w a n s to beg h©r br*i& �Gil THE # £ I I O T OF THE • t Sandbar!- ? • •• ' •> • <• HISTORY . >YN; i OH ! t h a t folk wad weel consider W f i a t it is to tyne a riaine? W h a t - t h i s warrs^athegither, If bereft of honest fame! Poortith ne'er can bring dishonour . ^Hardships ne'er breed; sorrows sinart, ' I f bright conscience taks upon Jter T o shed sunshiny round the heart. B u t wi' a' that walth can borro w5 Guilty gliarae will look dpvyn ; W h a t maun then shame, want, ami sorrow Wandering sad frae town to town! Jeani^ Miller, ance sae cjieerie, i^nce sae happy, gnid, audjVir, Lpft by Will, neist morning djrourie T a k s the road of black despair; Cauld the blast, the day was sleeting, . Pouch and purse without a plaek, In ilk hand a bairnie greeting, And, the third tied on her back W a n hei;faq§i~ and lean apd haggard J Anpe §ae aonsiej ance gae ^weetl/ W h | t ix change !—unhpi^ed beggared ^ I r r y i n g ^ v i t l i q i i t : claise or �12 F a r frae ilk kent spot she wandered, Skulking llVe a guilty thief; Here and there uncertain daundered, Stupified wi' shame and grief. B u t soon shame for bygane errors, Fled owre fast for e'e to trace, "Whan grim death, wi' a his terrors, Cam owre ilk sweet bairnie's face. Spent wi' toil, and cauld, and hunger, Baith down drapt, and down Jean s a t ! Daized and doited now nae langer Thought and felt, hut bursting grafc. Gloaming fast wiVmirky shadow Crap owre distant hill and plain; Darkened wood, and glen, and meadow, Adding fearful thoughts to pain. Round and round, in wild distraction, Jeanie turned her tearful e'e Round and round for some protection ! Face nor house she couldna see. Dark and darker grew the night aye, Loud and sair the cauld winds thud $ Jean now spied a sma bit lightie Blinking through a distant wood. Up wi frantic haste she started, Cauld nor fear she felt nae mair $ Hope, for ae bright moment, darted Through the gloom of dark despair. �13 Fast owre fallowed lea she brattled,; Deep she wade through bog and burn, Sair wi' steep and craig she battled, Till she reached the hoped sojourn Proud 'mang scenes of Simple Nature, Stately, auld, a mansion stood On a bank, whase sylvan feature,''1 Smiled out ower the roaring flood. Simmer here, in varied beauty, Late her flowery man tie spread, W h a r auld chesnut, ake and yew tree Mingling, lent their friendly shade. Blasted now wi' W i n t e r s ravage, A' their gaudy livery cast, Wood and glen in' waitings'"savage. Sung and howled to ilka blast. Darkness stalked wi' fancy terror, Mountains moved and castle rocked, Jean, half dead wi' toil and horror/ Reached the door and loudly knocked W h a thus rudely waks the sleeping? Cried a voice wi' angry grane; Help I oh help ! quo Jeanie, weeping, Help my infants or they're garie. Nipt wi' cauld, wi' hunger fainting, Baith lay speechless on the lea ! Help ! quo Jeanie, loud lamenting, Help my lammies, or they'll die. �14 travels cauld and hungry, - W*' JOIMS faints sae late at jB'ew ? Beggars, cried the voice niair angry, l^eggeirs wi' their brats I ween. Beggars.np.w^.alasJ. wji^ lM^y-, ' Helpt the beggar and the poor; Fye, gu(Jem,an, cried ane discreetly, Tauiit, na poorti th at the door, Sic a night and tale thegither Plead for mair than anger's din; Rise Jock, cried the pitying mither, Rise and let the wretched in. Beggar now, alas ! wha lately Helpt the beggar and the poor i Enter, ^uo the yonth^discreetly, While up i flew the open dao£f Beggar, or what else, sad mourner. Enter without fear or dread ; Here, thank, God, there's aye a cornep r Tp defend the houseless head. For your bairnies cease repining ; v fX:\'/f I f fti life ye'11 see, them soon ; A ff he flew ; and brightly shin ing Through (fie da^k clouds, brak the moon. Here, for ae night's kind protection, t Leave Sye Jean and weans awhUe, Tracing Will iri| ilk direction, F a r fnie Britain's fostering isle.. , �Ip Far frae scenes of fastening,pleasure, LtiVe's delights and beauty's jcHarj^ p* Far frae^ friendship's social leisure, ^T^lunged in murdering W A l l ' s alarms. Is it nature, vice, or folly, Or ambition's feverish brain, That sae aft, wi' melancholy, Turns, sweet P E A C E ! thy joys tip fain. That wi! a' thy charms enticing rf • ^To the e'e and to the heart, (Ilk Endearing bliss despising), TMn^ts weak man frae .tMetopart.• flfiJi-J Or'! ti • -J no. Willie Gairlace, without siller, Credit, clase, or ought beside, ^eaves lift ance loved Jeanie "Millejr, [ bairns to warld wide.,' ; Leaves his native cozy dwelling, Sheltered haughs and birken braes, Grreeniwaird howes and dainty mailing Ance his prdflt/ pride, and praife§.: 4 Decked wi' ,scarlet, sword, and musket, D r u n ^ y ? dreams ft s fause its vkiii^"' Fleeclied "and flittered, roosed anfl biislnt, W\5W but T Will was \vondrous fain, JI T M'PPL V U ?•/ >!ooi ,00-/1 Rattling, roaring, swearing, drinking, How cotdd Thought her stMdn keep;** Drams and '^rufoiifihg' (fees to'thinkihjbr))rv Dnied Reflection fast asleep. �16 Bmt when shipt to toils and dangers, W i ' the cauld grund for his b e d Compassed round wi'faes and stranger% Soon Will's dreams of fancy fled. Led to battle's blood-dyed banners Waving to the widow's moan, W i l l saw Glory's boasted honours End in life's expiring groan. Round Valenciennes' strong walled City* Thick owre Dunkirk's fatal plain. W i l l (though dauntless) saw wi' pity, Britain's valiant sons lie slain. Fired by freedom's burning fever, Gallia's rack Death's slaughtering knell, Frae the Scheldt to Rhine's deep, river, Britons fought—but Britons fell. Fell unaided, though cemented By the faith of friendship's laws j Fell unpitied ! unlamented I Bluiding in a thankless cause. In the thrang of comrades deeing, Fighting foremost of them a', Swith ! Fate's winged ball cam fleeing, And took Willie's leg in twa. Thrice frae aff the grund he started, Thrice to stand he strave in vain, Thrice, as fainting strength departed, Sighed—and sank 'mid heaps of slain, �17 Erskine, wha ne'er slighted merit, Marked him 'mid the bloody fray ; Save that gallant daring spirit, 1 Twice he saved my life the day, * fast on battle raging,. T ed our stalwart youths awa, Day by day new faes engaging, Forced the weary back to fa'. Driven at last frae post to pillar, Left by friends wha ne'er proved true. Tricked by knaves wha poucliecl our siller, .J^fJiat could worn-out valour do ? Myriads 4ark, Jike gathering thunder,Bursting, spread owre land and sea ; Left alane> alas ! nae wonder Britain's sons were forced to flee. * V C. ' °" ' ' '• • Cross the W a r e and (Yssel frozen, .Deqp through bogs and drifted snaw, Wounded, weak, and spent, our chosen Gallant men now faint and fa. On, a cart wi5 comrades bluiding, . j Stiff wi' gore, and cauJd as clay, Without cover, bed, or bedding, • Five lang nights W i l l Gairlace lay. In a sick-house, damp and rianuw, (Left behind, wi' hundred mair,) See W i l l neist, in pain and sorrow, Wasting on a bed of care. �Ite Wounds, arid paiii^ and; til; Doctors curo«I wi' healing art Cured, alas ! but never, never, Cooled the fever at his hearts For, whan a' war sound and sleopihgV' Still and on, baith ear and lafc, Will in briny grief lay steeping, 'U Mourning owre liS hapless" M e . * A ' liis gowden prospects vanished, A fek'U^a^a / l ^ ^ d ^ A ^ t ^ i Jiewl . liio g!Aii/i/Oii-iit? jjiianLum^ uaxiioiiuu, h T Will^btild 1 tlifrik of ndi^Kt btWWme. ' Kural labour, rural ploys ; F a r frae carnage, bluid, and riot, ; n W a r , arid m 2 i i a Back to Britain's fertile garden, ' • Will's returned (exchanged for fires), Wi 5 ae leg, and no a farden, Friend or creffit; nieat cHr claiseV U f ' Lang through country, burgh, and city Crippling on a wooden leg, Gathering alms frae melting pity, See poor'Gairkce forced to beg.J Placed at length on Chelsea's bounty, Now" to lariger beg Uiinfcs sh^iji^, } . Dreams' anee mair of smiling plenty, Dreams of former joys, and liifeffe/ * �W H a m e r a h d & its fond attractions, Fast to Will's warm ljo^om fleer f Wliild; the though is of deflr eonpeetio^ ^ Swell "his feart and' Wmd his t ^ M ^ Monste¥-P wha cMd ] ike ne?p&£eif Tkree stoa' infants and & Wffe/\ ; ? n a J Naked, starving, unprotected, "iko'l 8VS Them too 'dearer airee than <2 Villain! w h k ^ P g r a c e s 11 Changed1 hek*'FFIFFTCR^elailcholy^ M 1 Reggar y^ ^ - ^ j f e M i $ $ $ JB Starting; flikrdti&ftj'1 Crushed w i ' " g r i e F ^ e r t t ^ l b a y p Up h e B a n g e d / d ^ ^ ^ m ^ t e S ^ 7 ^ Sad and siletft Sometimes briskly, sometimes flaggin ' Sometimes helpit/ Will gat-forth, - \ On a carl' 6r iii a Waggon / ^ ' hsfmno^/ Hirplin^ ayfet$#ards th& - ii cMli. Tired at ^eniri^/ ifefprping h M y , ; i r ; G s ' Pondering oh Ms thra^ard fate, ' : In the boiiiiy : month-rf July, 1 ; : ^ <; "Willie, ' Aft the southland b r e e z e W a w i i i g , *7 SwTeetly si ghecHhe green ake'Vood, Loud the din of streams fast fd'ifig, Strack the ear wi* thundering thud; �20 Ewes and lambs on braes ran bleating, Linties sang on ilka tree, Frae the west the sun, near setting, Flamed on Roslin's towers sae hie. Roslin's toners and braes sae bonny, Craigs and water, woods and glen, Roslin's Ibanks ! unpeered by ony, Save the muse's Hawthorn den. Ilka sound and charm delighting, Will (though hardly fit to gang,), Wandered onfthrough scenes inviting, Listening to the mavis' sang. Faint at length, the day fast closing, On- a fragrant strawberry steep, Esk s sweet strea.ni to rest composing, Wearied ^ f a t u r e drapt asleep. Soldier, rise ! the dews of e'ening Gathering, fa' wi' deadly skaith I Wounded soldier ! if complaining Sleep nae here to catch your death. Traveller, waken !-—night advancing, - Cleeds wi' gray the neebouring hill; Lambs nae mair on knowes are dancing A ' the woods are mute and still. W h a t hae cried Willie, waking, W h a t hae I frae night to dree P Morn, through clouds in splendour breaking Light's nae brightning hope to me. �21 House nor hame, nor farm nor steading, Wife nor bairns hae I to see, House nor hame, nor bed nor bedding, ) W h a t hae I frae night to dree ? Sair, alas ! and sad arid pianyv Are the ills poor mortals share, Yet, though hame nor bed ye hae nae, Yield nae, Soldier, to despair. What's this If Hope's See, though Yon sma- life, sae vvae and weatie, brightning beams should fail night comes, dark and'eerie, cot-light cheers the dale. There, though walth and waste ne'er tiot, Humbler joys their comforts shed, Labour—health—content and quiet-— Mourner ! there ye'se get a, bed. Wife 'tis true, wi' bairnies smiling, There, alas ! ye need nae seek~ T . Yet their Bairns* ilk care beguiling', ml" > Paint wi' smiles a mither's cheek. A' her earthly pride and plga^ure Left to cheer her widow'd lot, . A ' her warldly walth and treasure To adorn her lanely cot {. Cheer, then, Soldier, midst affliction Brightning joys will aften shine ; Vttttae aye claims Heaven's protection Trust to providence divine I r y: : �22 Sweet as RosebarikVwoods and rivet Cool, wheii simmerV sunbeams dart, Cam ilk word, and cooled the fever That lang'burned at Willies heart. Silent stept he on, poor fallow, Listening to his guide before, Owre green know and gowany hallow, Till they reached the cot-houge door. Laigh it was; yet sweet, though fumble; Decked wi' hinnysuckle rdund; Clear below Esk's waters ru mble, v Deep glens murmuring back tlie sound. MelvilTs towers, <&e" white and stately, Dim by gldaming glint to view; Thro' Lasstoade's dark woods keek sweetly, Skies fei y tiri$ : BR %ae 1>lu6f Entering now in trarispoft mingle, Mither fMd } and \^eanl . XFJ C • I. round aTLIJ ' mgle. I • >I capty omiling Blessing on a cleah heartli stane.' Soldier, welc&ne !-Tcome, be cheery-?—i Here yese rest, and take your bed-, , Faint, \vae£ fne! ye seem, and weary, Pale's your cnt&k, sae lately red. Changed l a m , sighed Willie till her; Changed, nae doubt, as changed can.be5 Yet, alas! does Jeanie Miller Nought of Willie Gairiace see ? JO 1 �23 Hae ye marked th#. dews of morning 7/ " Kjrlitleripg. in the sunny Say4 , ,I( > Quickly fa, , vrhan, without warning. Rough blastsJcam and shook the spray, ,Hae ye seep the. hi j$$fast. fleeing • • > v tl I * . Drap when pierced by Death mair fleet ? Then see Jean, wi1 colour deeing, ;it Senseless drap at Willie's feet* 1- i'ivl V~ After t^uffja lang y^s'japUetfen i i ( A ' tjieif ways now hushed t o u : Jeari ance fond aiF0§jtipn C l a s p s , W i l l i e to, her breast. » TellsjJjim a1 ^er/fa^^i^jiifferifegpoq sdgid Mow she wandered, starving pooi-V ' 1 ; Gleaming Pity's scanty, offerings ; "A 1 Wi tol •- * bairns,- frae * "• to door] three *' J •• door .ill * ' * How sh$? s^ved^-and; jftoiled^-artd ievered/ Lost her health andqsyne her bread ; How that grief, when scarce recovered* t>ibl Took her brain and turned her head/ How she wandered round the country Mony a live-lang night her lane; ? Till at last an angel'§ bounty Brought her senses back again, > i3 • Gae her meat—and claise—and siller; Gae her bairnie?s wark and lear 5 Lastly, gae this cot-house till her, W i ' four sterling pounds a year. �24 Willi e9 heark'ning, wiped his e'en aye 5— 'Oh I what sins hae I to rue ! 6 But say, wha's this angel, Jeanie ! / W h a , quo Jeanie, 4 hut Buccleugh ! 4 Here, supported—cheered—-and cherished Nine blessed months I've lived and mair; Seen these infants clad and nourished, Dried my tears and tint despair/ Sometimes serving, sometimes spinning., Light the lanesome hours gae round; Lightly, too, ilk quarter rinning. Brings yon angels helping pound ! Eight pounds mair, cried Willie, fondly, Eight pounds mair, will do nae harm, And, O Jean, gin friends war kindly, Eight pounds soon might stoclt a farm. There ance mair to thrive by ploughing, Freed frae a' that peace destroys, Idle waste and drueken ruin, W a r , and a its murdering joys ! T Thrice he kissed his lang lbs£ treasure; Thrice ilka bairn—but could nae speak; Tears of love, and hope* and pleasure, Streamed in silence down his cheek. � 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 026: Title-page illustration of a Highland soldier in a kilt and plaid socks holding an upright rifle in a outdoor scene. A door in background is imprinted with the letter "V". 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 History of Will and Jean: or, The sad effects of Drunkenness. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9943831143505154">s0615b41</a> Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. The sad effects of drunkeness Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource [1850?] per University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks Extent The size or duration of the resource. 24 pages 15 cm Description An account of the resource 36 printed at the bottom of the title-page. Subject The topic of the resource Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow Alcohol Is Referenced By A related resource that references, cites, or otherwise points to the described resource. <a title="University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks" href="http://special.lib.gla.ac.uk/chapbooks/search/">University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks&nbsp;</a> <a title="National Library of Scotland" href="http://www.nls.uk/">National Library of Scotland&nbsp;</a> Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Accrual Method The method by which items are added to a collection. Purchased through the Jane Grier Family Trust. 2012 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 # of Woodcuts: 1 Bib Context: title-page Chapbook Date: 1841-1850 Chapbook Publisher - Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Fashion (Clothing): feather bonnet Fashion (Clothing): Highland attire Fashion (Clothing): kilt Fashion (Clothing): military Fashion (Clothing): sporran Gender: man/men Occupation: soldier Outdoor Scene Weapons: gun(s) https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/da4bb9a24e934b39d7a34cc2b03e6a50.jpg 735e53e80182dc223c01351e59e4c267 Omeka Image File The metadata element set that was included in the `files_images` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all image files. Bit Depth 8 Channels 3 Height 3072 Width 1826 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 man wearing a hat, kilt, and plaid socks holding an upright rifle. To his left is a door marked with the letter V https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/96f91e7a65bfefe63f2e9c5b8c2e001f.pdf 83b9e29026991cb9aa5e0cab2bba1b83 PDF Text Text FOUR Excellent Songs JACK ROBINSON. T H E G I R L I L E F T B E H I N D ME. LORD LOVEL. T H E H A U G H S OF C R O M D A L K GLASGOW: PRINTED FOR TIIE 32. BOOKSELLERS. �BO R & S. JACK ROBINSON. THE perils and dangers of the voyage past, And the ship to Porti^outh aiYivfed at? last, The sails all furl'd and* the anchor cast; The happiest of the crew was Jack Robinson: For his Poll he had trinkets and gold* g&lofe; Besides prize-money quite a store, And along with the crew he went ashore, As cockswain to the boat, Jack Robinson. Tol de rol, &c. He met with a man, and said, I say, Mayhap you know one Polly Gray, She lives somewhere hereabout—the man said, nay, I do not, indeed, to Jack Robinson. Says Jack to him, I've left my ship, And all my messmates gave the slip, Mayhap you'll partake of a* good can of flip, For you're a civil fellow, says* Jack Robinson. In a public-house, tlien^ they both sat down, And talkVI of Admirals of high renown, And drank as much grog as came to half-a-crown, This here strange man and Jack Robinson. Then Jack call'd out the reck'ning to pay, The landlady came in, in line array, My eyes and limbs! why here's Polly Gray, Who'd thought of meetinghere, says Jack Robinson, �3 The landlady stagger'd against ithe wall, And said at first she didn't know him at all, Shiver me,,.«ays Jack, why here's a pretty squall, D—n me, don't you know me?—'I'm Jack Robinson Don't you know this handkerchief you gave to me, Twas three years ago, before I *werat *to sea, Every day I look'dat, and then I thought of thee, Upon my soul I have, says .Jack iRctbinson. Says the lady, says she, I've chang'd,my state, Why, you don't mean, says Jack, ..that you've got a mate You know you promis'd—-says she, 1 could not .wait, For 110 tidings could I gain of you, Jack Robinson ; And somebody, one day, came to me and said, That^omebody else had somewhere read, In some newspaper, as how you were dead— I've not been dead at all, says Jack Robinson. Then he turned his quid, and finish'd his glass, Hitch'd up his trowsers, alas! alas! That ever I should live to be made such an ass, To be biik'd by a woman, says Jack Robinson. But to fret and stew about it much is all in vain, I'll get a ship and go to Holland, France, and Spain. No matter where, to Portsmouth I'll never<come again, And he was olf before they could say Jack (Robinson. T H E G I R L I L E F T BE FUND ME. I'M lonesome since I cross'd the hills, And over the moors that Aire me, With heavy thoughts my heart doth fill. Since I parted from my Betty, �In search of some one fine and gay, But none could ever bind me, And I think of the hours I pass'd away With the girl I left behind me. The hours I do remember well, When recollections move me ; A pain within my breast I feel, Since first she own'd to love m e : But now I'm going to Brighton camp, I pray kind heav'n now guide me, And send me safely back again To the girl 1 left behind me. But when I'm standing on parade, Either asleep or waking, I long to see my love again, For her my heart is breaking ; When I think of the vows of love, The tears do fall and blind me, When I think upon the form and grace Of the girl I left behind me. The falling waters I do see, The dove become a ranger— Such heavy thoughts run in my mind, The hour 1 mesnt to change her; Ye powers above, protect I pray, The cautious fair that binds me, And send me safely home again To the girl 1 left behind me. �* T H E H A U G H S OF C R O M D A L E . As I came in by Auchindoun, A little wee bit frae the town, When to the Highlands I was boun\ To view the haughs of Cromdale. I met a man in tartan trews, I speir'd at him what was the news ; Quo' he, 44 The Highland army rues, That e'er we came to Cromdale, We were in bed, sir, every man, When the English host upon us came; A bloody battle then began, Upon the haughs of Cromdale. The English horse they were so rude, They bathed their hoofs in Highland blood, But, our brave clans, they boldly stood Upon the haughs of Cromdale. 44 But, alas! we could no longer stay, For o'er the hills we came away, And sore we do lament the day That e'er we came to Cromdale." 44 Thus the great Montrose did say, 44 Can you direct the nearest way, For I will o'er the hills this day, And view the haughs of Cromdale. * Alas, my lord, you're not so strong, You scarcely have two thousand men, There's twenty thousand on the plain, Stand rank and file on Cromdale. 44 �G Thus Jhe ..great Moutvose did .say, " I say, direct the nearest way, For I will o'er the hills -ebis day, And see the haughs of Oromdale." They were at dinner, every »mm, When great Montrose upon them c a m ; A second battle then began, Upon the haughs of Gromdale. The Grant, Mackenzie, and M'Kay, Soon as Montrose they did espy, 0 then, they fought most valiantly! Upon the haughs of Gromdale. The M'Donalds they returri'd again, The Camerons did their standard join, Mcintosh play'd a bloody game Upon the haughs of Gromdale. The M'Gregors fought like lions bold, M'Phersons, none could them controul, M'Lauchlans fought like loyal souls, Upon the haughs of Cromdale. M'Leans, M'Dougals, and M'Neils, So boldly as they took the field, And made their enemies to yield, Upon the haughs of Cromdale. The Gordons boldly did advance The Frasers fought with sword and lance, The Grahams'they made the heads to danoe, Upon the ha i hs of'Cromdak. �The loyal Stewarts, with Montrose, So boldly set upon their foes, And brought them down with Highland1 blows, Upon the haughs of Cromdale, Of twenty thousand, Cromwell's men, Five hundred fled to Aberdeen, The rest of them lie 011 the plaiii, Upon the haughs of Cromdale. LORD L O V E L . stands at his stable door, Mounted upon a grey steed ; And bye came Ladie Nanciebel, And wish'd Lord Lovel much speed. LORD LOVF.L " 0 wh'ar are you going, Lord LoVel, 9 My dearest tell to me V <{ O I am going a far journey, Some far countrie to see ; But I'll return in seven long years, Lady Nanciebel to see." " 0 ! seven, seven, seven long years, They are much too long for me," 44 He has gane a year away, A year but barely ane, When a strange fancy came into his head, That fair Nanciebel was gane. �8 It's then he rade, and better rade, Until he cam to the toun, And there he heard a dismal noise, For the church bells a* did soun' He asked what the bells rang for, T h e j said, " Its for Nanciebel: She died for a discourteous squire, And his name is Lord LoveL" The lid o' the coffin he opened up, The linens he faulded doun ; And aye he kiss'd her pale, pale lips, And the tears cam trickling doun. " Weel may I kiss those pale pale lips, For they will never kiss me ;— I'll mak a vow, and keep it true, That they'll ne'er kiss ane but thee." Lady Nancie died on Tuesday nicht, Lord Lovel upon the neist day ; Lady Nancie died for pure pure love, Lord Lovel, for deep sorray. � 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 026: Title-page illustration of a Highland soldier in a kilt and plaid socks holding an upright rifle in a outdoor scene. A door in background is imprinted with the letter "V". 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 Four Excellent Songs. Jack Robinson. The girl I left behind me. Lord Lovel. The Haughs of Cromdale. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9943830893505154">s0615b33</a> Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. Jack Robinson. The girl I left behind me. Lord Lovel. The Haughs of Cromdale. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource [1840-1850?] per University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks Extent The size or duration of the resource. 8 pages 14 cm Description An account of the resource 32 printed at the bottom of the title-page. Subject The topic of the resource Ballads and songs Jacobites War Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow Courtship and Marriage Is Referenced By A related resource that references, cites, or otherwise points to the described resource. <a title="University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks" href="http://special.lib.gla.ac.uk/chapbooks/search/">University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks&nbsp;</a> <a title="National Library of Scotland" href="http://www.nls.uk/">National Library of Scotland&nbsp;</a> Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Accrual Method The method by which items are added to a collection. Purchased through the Jane Grier Family Trust. 2012. Language A language of the resource English Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario Type The nature or genre of the resource ballads & songs # of Woodcuts: 1 Bib Context: title-page Chapbook Date: 1841-1850 Chapbook Genre: ballads & songs Fashion (Clothing): feather bonnet Fashion (Clothing): Highland attire Fashion (Clothing): kilt Fashion (Clothing): military Fashion (Clothing): sporran Gender: man/men Occupation: soldier Outdoor Scene Weapons: gun(s) https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/a25c49f0a4bdd987493999de659a95f2.pdf 1fa707fa35be8233266db9b4ea486b17 PDF Text Text STORY OF THE BITTER WEDDING. GLASGOW: PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS. ��THE BITTER WEDDING. O ne fine summer morning—it was many hundred years ago—young Berthold set out with a very heavy heart from his Alpine hut, with a view of reaching in the evening the beautiful valley o f Siebenthal, where stood his native village, and where he designed to be an unknown and silent guest at the dancig n and festivity o f certain merry maker’s. ' Ah, heavens,’ sighed he, ' it will be a bitter wedding! Had I died last spring it had been better with me now.’ ' Fiddle faddle!’ exclaimed a snarling voice from the road side. ' Fiddle faddle ! Where master Almerich touches his strings, there goes it merrily— there is the hurly burly, dirling the bottoms out of the tubs and pitchers ! Good morning, my child ! Come, cheer up my hearty, and let us trudge on together in good neighbourship.’ The young herdsman had stopped when he heard such a frog-croak of a voice, and now he could not speak for laughing. A n odd-looking dwarfish figure mounted upon �4 one leg and a half, and propped upon a crutch, with a nose as long as one’s thumb, came hobbling up quite out of breath, and making half-a-dozen wry faces, from a foot path on the left side of the road. Behind him he trailed an enormous fiddle, on which lay a large wallet— appurtenances which s eemed to be attached - to such a little odd figure by way of ballast, lest the rush of the wind down the valley should sweep it away. ‘ Good, morning !’ Berthold at last roared out, you are a merry fellow, Maste ' fiddler, and will prove heart’s ease to me d o t ay. In spite o f my misfortunes I could not help laughing a t the sight of you and your hugeous fiddle. Pray take it not am iss; a laugh has been a rare thing with me for many a day.’ ' H as it indeed,’ rejoined the dwarf ; ' and yet so y ou n g! Perhaps you are heart-sick, my son ?’ ' Y es, i f you choose to call it so,’ replied the herdsman, ‘ H ere in our mountains and valleys, you will find a great many clouts of fellows, who will be fanc ying themselves in love, while they are all the time eating, drinking, and sleeping, as sound as any marmot, and in one year s time can as easily pass from M argaret to Rosomund, as I from this town to the other. That is all a mocke; r y I would much rather die than forget �5 Siegeland,—though for me all rest and joy are for ever vanished.’ ‘ Aye, aye,’ replied Master Almerich, ‘ I thought you were going to the dance, my hearty,— I heard you crying out a bitter wedding, and I thought to myself, ‘ Aha, he does not get the right one,’ ‘ And that’s true enough,’ replied t r ehold; ‘ he does not get the right one,— that B Hildebrand! I will tell you the whole matter, Master Almerich, as you seem to be going the same way, if I guess right,’ ‘ Ah, yes, good heavens!’ sighed the dwarf: ‘ surely, surely, I would be going to the wedding, if I had only got a pair of stout legs, but look you here, my dear child, what a miserable stump is this for crawling down the mountain !— I am asthmatic too, and my goitre has been enlarging these last fifty years,—and that wallet has galled my back sore all yesterday in climbing over the rough hills— Heaven knows when I shall get to . the wedding! There was such a talking about it on the other side of the mountain, that, thought I to myself, I will away to the wedding also and make some money ; so I took my fiddle and began to crawl up the ascent,:—yesterday I became quite h x e austed—and now I must lay me down here by the side of the road and submit to fate. Tell me all about the wedding when you �6 eurn, child—if the wolves have not swallowed t r or hunger killed me before that time.’ With these words the dwarf, apparently exhausted, sunk down with a deep and a l encholy sigh on the nearest stone, threw his m bundle on the grass, and stretched out his bony hand as if to take a last farewell o f young Berthold, who stood leaning upon his staff, and gazin g upon the fiddler, quite nble to comprehend what ailed him. a u ' M aster,’ began the herdsman, ' how drooping! You have left all your g ay spirits at home! Although it is a weary journey for me as well as you, I will yet endeavour to carry your wallet and fiddle, so I may enjoy your company on the road. You must really hear what presses upon my soul,—perhaps I may obtain some relief in speaking it out, and you will have some pithy word of comfort for me. The dwarf accepted the kind offer and quickly transferred his wallet and fiddle to the stout shoulders of the herdsman; then taking his crutch, he whistled a merry tune, and trudged gaily on by the side of Berthold. I ‘ t is a long story, this wedding,’ begun the herdsman; b ‘ ut I will be as b possible, for it still grieves me to the heart when I think about it, and whoever can understand it at all, understands it soon; as for me my sufferings will never be at an �7 end, though I should talk the whole day about it. ' In the village there, below us, old Bernhard has a pretty sweet girl of a daughter, Siegelind ; he has lived for many years, and his wife Gertrude with him, in a nice little Cottage by the stream, where the road strikes off into the wood. Their trade is to make wooden spoons for the herdsmen, by which, and the help of a goat and a couple of sheep, they gain their livelihood.’ ' L ast winter, having got some ashen spoons and cups nicely cut, I thought with myself, now, as my father is getting old, and sends me with the cattle to the mountains in spring, if I only behave there as becomes a herdsman, what is there to prevent me coming down in autumn and marrying Siegelind ? ' Ah, Master Almerich, my words do poor justice to my heart; my feelings always get the start of them , and reason comes limping after! ' I beheld Siegelind, you see, moving actively about,— wearing a merry face late and early,— -all goodness and discretion froth top to toe, and pretty too,— overflowing with g a y spirits and merry songs without number: all this my eye, my ear, and my heart drun in smoothly,— -she was satisfied, and the people too,— in summer I was to g o to so �8 mountains, and at harvest-home to the d e wing, and in the meantime she gave me this waistcoat to wear on the hills in b m e r rance of her. , ‘ Old Bernhard went to the forest in spring to choose the finest stems, and to provide us with nice furniture against the wedding. ' So one morning as he was ascending the mountains through those ravines where there are some marvellously fine trees, a little man, in an odd sort of dress, hastened to meet him, screaming violently and beckoning and callig n him so earnestly that he could not but go with him. They soon reached a barn, where he found the stranger’s wife lying sick and in extremity. Her he relieved and cured; but for me—bride, peace, and happin e s , were lost from that hour.’ A ' h, good heavens!’ exclaimed Almerich; ' you are talking bravely, whilst I am almost starving—hop, hop, hop— we are trudging on, and my stomach is as empty as a bag-pipe ! Yesterday evening— t ohing ; this morning-— n nothing ! Oh that brave wedding-dance; the fiddle runs off, and Master Almerich is starving here!’ ' Now, now, the deuce, then,’ bawled the herdsman, ' what have you got in this cursed wallet ? Here am I toiling on with this plagued bag , rubbing the very skin off my shoulders, —if there is not at least a little ham �9 and cheese and fresh bread in it,w h y should I be smothered under such a bundle of rags.' ' Softly, softly, my son, ’ replied t h e fiddler, ' there are treasures in that wallet, an old barret cap of Siegefried, and an old sword belt of Dieterich, and a couple of old leathern soles o f Ylsan, child!— These are no every-day concerns, my hearty ! They are all estimable jewels to him who s r e d n utands the thing ; they are worth a whole mountain of sweet wine; and seven acres of thick golden wheat, to him who knows their value.’ ' It may he so,’ said the herdsman, ' I only wish we had a few cups of milk in the place of your treasures; but if it is so with your stomach, my good master, look you, here is a mouthful of g oatmilk cheese, I meant to serve me for the night, but never mind, I am little disposed to eat.’ Berthold now produced his provisions, and Almerich devoured them as greedily as if he meant to swallow the herdsman after them by way of dessert. He then wiped his mouth, leaped briskly up, was again in good spirits, and stamped away before th e herdsman as freshly as if nothing had ailed him. All this, however, seemed very odd to Berthold, and when he again felt the annoyance of the wallet, he drew a sigh so deep that it echoed back from the neighbouring rocks. �10 ‘ L ack a d a y !’ cried Almerich again, ' the poor lad has lost his bride and his peace o f heart; I have been so concerned about him that I could not eat a bit ?' ' T hat fellow could devour the Stackhorn ! thought Berthold with some indignation. ' The club foot is not in his right senses, I believe!’ ' It was really to bad,’ began he, resumig n his story. ' The dwarf in the barn returned a profusion of thanks to old h n ard, and said, ' I am a foreign miner, r e B and have lost the road with my good wife ; so I have nothing to reward you for your kind services, save a little bit of cheese and a few draughts of wine, take that, and m e ember the poor fellow who gave you what r he could, and will pray that Heaven may reward you farther,’ ' Old Bernhard accepted the little bottle and a piece o f cheese only to get rid of the importunity of the dwarf, who would take no refusal. Towards noon, he was proceeding to his village; the road was long, and feeling fatigued, he laydown in the shade o f a tree, took out the gift of the dwarf, and began to eat and drink. Meanwhile, who should my evil stars bring in his way but young Hildebrand, the most miserly fellow in the v illage! ' God bless you, father Bernhard!’ �11 — ' Thank you ray son.’ Thus the v n o c ersation proceeded, The niggard sees the old man comfortably enjoying his repast; so he sets himself down beside him and takes a share. There they eat and eat for about an hour,— but the wine never gets less, and the cheese is never done, and both behold the miracle till their hair stands on end. ‘ All was now over, Master fiddler, and poor Berthold was undone! H ' ildebrand chose words which went down with Bernhard as smoothly as honey, and the long and the short of the matter was, my dear sweet Siegelind was promised to the rich miser, with the marvellous cheese for her dowry. The old man was now quite beside himself,—the young man talked finely --they were to outdo the whole village, and keep their secret to themselves; I was called a miserable wretch, and the spirit of mischief just brought me into their way in time to hear the whole sad story.’ ‘ Ah, good heavens,’ exclaimed Almerich again, ' I am undone with cold; it is turnig n a chill rainy day, and my bones are so naked!— Hew, hew, how the storm blows into my very soul! This day will be the death of me.— I thought so before. Take your way, my son, I give you my fiddle in a present,—leave me the wallet here, I will stretch myself out to die upon it.’ �12 ' The mischief is in i t !’ grumbled B erthold. ' I f matters are to go on in this way, we shall be a year and a day hence still travelling this cursed road? H ark ye, old boy, you are an odd fellow! what tempted you to think of wandering through our rough country, without meat or drink or even a coat, but with a fiddle as large as a ton, and an empty wallet as heavy as seven three stone cheeses ! ’Tis a perfect tempting of Providence! W hy the deuce do you drag after you that ass’s burden of old rubbish, without so much as the convenience of a cloak in your bundle!’ ' It is all very true,’ sighed Almerich. ' I am not yet accustomed to be the lame, feeble man you now see me. Thirty years ago I could skip like a leveret over hills and dales; but now, farewell to friend Almerich, I shall never leave this place! However it is all one,—perish here, or die there, a dying bed is ever a hard one, even though it should be o f down and silk ?’ ' Now really,’ replied Berthold, ' you are too whimsical, fiddler ! The cold blast never hurts a tough fellow who is accustomed to run about the mountains,— there, slip into my coat, and walk smartly on, for a shower is approaching, and that rascally wallet is weighing me down to the ground.’ ‘ Patience, child, patience!’ said Almerich --- ' This coat is quite warm from your �13 shoulders,— I feel very comfortable in it,— slowly, gently, your story of the marvellous cheese and wine has restored me to warmth —how did the matter go on ?’ ‘ You rogue and rascal! ’ thought Berthold to himself, and thus continued his lamentable tale. ' How did it go on !— Gertrude sang to the same tune as her husband; Siegelind grew sad, and lost her bloom and strength; the old boy urged the matter, and Hildebrand too,— Bernhard was anxious to get the rich and proud son-in-law, and was in great fear lest the enchanted wine should soon dry up, —the young fellow had money in his eye, and wished to turn the bewitched cheese to usury,— thus the wedding was determined on, and I was left in sadness upon my mountn a i. I tried to forget it; I thought Siegelind could not have borne me in her heart, otherwise she would not, even to escape death and martyrdom, have married the red haired Hildebrand. L ast night, however, I could find neither rest nor sleep upon my straw, I must go and see her with my own eyes take that miser for her husband. Near the village I will wrap up my head and dye my hands and cheeks with berries, so that nobody will know me,—nor in the bustle of the wedding, when every thing is turning topsy turvy, will a living soul ,care for poor �14 Berthold. When all is over, I shall, so it please Heaven, become wise a g a in ; or if not, my poor brain will be turned altogether, and that will be a blessing too.’ ‘ M y good child,’ said the dwarf, ‘ you will get over all this. I perceive very well that it is a hard journey, and a bitter wedding too for y ou : but it is your good luck, my child, that you have me for a companion— I will fiddle till your heart leaps again ,— your sorrow grieves me as much as if it were my own.’ Whilst talking thus, a few drops of rain fell, which proved the prelude to a heavy shower; and although the travellers had r l aeady gone a considerable way, they were still far from the end of their journey, and gush after gush, the rain poured upon their heads till the water run down from their hats as from a spout. Berthold trudged silently on, sighing frequently and heavily under his burden,—he could have sworn that it increased a pound’s weight every step, nevertheless it was m i ossible for his good nature to think o f p i gng it back to the poor cripple in such a v pest. The rain soon began to trickle through m e t his waistcoat, and run in a cold stream down his back, he wished himself, the dwarf, and the wedding all far enough, but stalked sullenly on through the mud as if he had �15 been wading through the highest Alpine grass. The fiddler limped close behind him, croaking occasionally through his raven throat, an old spring song, which told of sunshine, and singing birds, and pleasure, and love. A t times he drew himself snugly together, and expatiated on the excellencies of the herdsman’s coat, which he declared was quite waterproof,— and then he would exhort Berthold to step leisurely, to pay particular attention to the wallet and fiddle, and above all not to overheat himself. The herdsman would have lost all patience and courage a thousand times over in draggin g his hundred weight of a load and playing the fool to the crazy fiddler, if he had not been ashamed to throw away the burden which he had volunteered to carry, and forsake the person whose company he had himself invited. But in his heart he vowed deeply and solemnly never again to lend his coat to a fiddler, nor give away his cheese, nor to carry a fiddle and wallet, and after all be mocked and laughed at by such an odd quiz of a fellow. ‘ I f ,’ thought he at last, ‘ the upshot of all this is a fever in the evening which carries me quickly off-— be it so,-— remains a bitter wedding!’ it After a few hours rain, the two pedestrians reached the valley, where a swollen and �16 rapid torrent, which had swept away every vestige of the little bridge that led to the village, with the exception of a single small plank, rushed across the path; the herdsm a n heeded not the narro footing, and was w stepping boldly across, when his companion began to roar out lustily about the dangers of the path : ' Fo r my life and soul I will not move from the spot! N either cat nor rah could pass over there,— I would be a dead man if I ventured on that cursed plank ! Let them fiddle yonder who can swim,— I wish I was in a feather bed with my fiddle for a pillow!’ ' Don’t make such a noise about i t !’ cried Berthold. ' I f we have got thus far, we will surely go on a little, farther,-— I have if brought the fiddler this length to the bitter dance, I will also bring him to the wedding house,—though I am a fool, I am neverthels e a good-natured one.’ With these words the herdsman took off the fiddle and wallet from his back , and supplied the place with the dwarf, whom he carried over as easily as a bundle of straw. He then returned for the fiddle, wallet, and crutch, which lay as heavy as so many stones upon his shoulders. ' Well, the best of it now is,’ said he, that we shall soon reach the village,— but either my head is turned, or that wallet is filled �17 with f esh and blood, ,and master Almerich’s l body is stuffed with chaff! ’ ' Nonsense! ' replied the fiddler with a broad grin, ' You have behaved well, child; it would be a great pity i f :the bride yonder would not g e t you ; you have the genuine patience of the lamb in you, yet I perceive you have also strength enough, with your heart in the right place, and as much wisdom as there is any need of in the country. Come, let us paint your cheeks, and put on the old cap you will find in my wallet, and the green waistcoat and get that belt about you; d o t ay you will be the fiddler’s boy, and not a liv in g creature know you.’ The fiddler opened his wallet and threw out its contents to Berthold, whose face he painted with cranberries, and beard and b y e rows with a bit of coal, and then they walked gaily on towards the village. Evening was just coming on, and the sun broke out all at once from under the clouds, — the birds -began to sing cheerfully,—the flowers, opened their leaves as if to listen, and Berthold felt his clothes sooner dried than if he had been sitting close to a large fire. In a few minutes our wanderers mingled with the merry wedding-guests; noises and merriment were echoing all around, and no one looked sad but Siegelind, who kept her �18 tearful eyes fixed upon the ground. The old fiddler was welcomed with shouts of applause ; for the rain had prevented the arrival of the band o f fiddlers and pipers who had been invited on the occasion, and every body thought it a piece o f marvellous good luck for the wedding that master Almerich should have got through. ' Now, children,’ exclaimed the old boy, ‘ fetch us something to drink, and some cheese and bread, and do not forget that youth who has dragged myself as well as my fiddle here to-day.’ The guests hastened to execute the old fiddler’s commands, and even Gertrude and Bernhard bustled about to serve him. Poor Berthold’s heart was bleeding, but he kept eating and drinking, that he might not be obliged to speak. Mean while the old fiddler put dry strings on his instrument, and began to tune it so stoutly that it thrilled through marrow and bone, and quickly drew the attention of all upon the musician.’ ‘ Bless me,’ whispered Bernhard to t r erude,’ ‘ upon my faith it is the very dwarf G who g a ve me the bewitched wine and cheese! Be gentle to him wife, and say not a single word.’ A ll at once the fiddle struck up so briskly that the very house shook with blow upon blow,—he commenced such a furious strain �19 that the whole company leaped up from their benches and began dancing as if they were mad. ‘ Heigh, heigh!’ shouted the people. ‘ There is a fiddle!’ and every one capered and whirled through the wedding chamber as if they danced for a wager. The young people led out the dance, and the old ones hobbled as fast after them as they could; and nobody stood idle but Siegelind:—who wished herself ten thousand miles away from the merriment—and Berthold, who gazed stedfastly and sorrowfully upon his beloved. In the midst of his fiddling, Master Almerich beckoned to the beautiful bride to step near him ; ‘ There stands a little bottle yonder where your bridegroom has been seated, and some old cheese with it,— I dare say it will not be the worst in the house,— I would taste a little of it,—this playing makes me a little nice in the palate.’ The good natured bride brought the bottle and cheese, and placed them on a chair beside him, knowing no reasonable objection to the old man’s taking as much as he could eat. The dwarf quickly laid his fiddle aside, raised the bewitched bottle in his right hand, and the cheese in his left, and exclaimed with a loud voice, W ' ell, my good peo well, here’s the health of that beautiful bride there and her sweetheart; may she live long and joyfully!’ �20 ' L o n g and joyfully!’ resounded through the room, while fifty bonnets and hats were tossed up into the air. But horror struck and deadly pale did Hildebrand and Bernhard a n d Gertrude become when they saw the wondrous wine and enchanted cheese in Almerich’s uplifted fist. ' Dares he—can he—will h e !’ darted through their hearts. But, woe and alas ! in one turn of his hand, the glutton with his large ox-mouth, had swallowed the bewitche d draught and marvellous cheese without leaving a morsel! A roar of passion from the red haired Hildebrand, and a gush of tears from Gertrude, now terrified the people: while old Bernhard stood like one petrified. But a cheerful smile lightened upon the counte­ nance of Siegelind, and Berthold rose boldly from his bench, and stood ready to use his fists upon Hildebrand if he should dare to touch the fiddler. Y ‘ ou rogu e! you b e g g a r!’ at last c x elaimed Hildebrand. Who told you to give that old fool of a fiddler that gift of heaven ? You may now toss your house and your bride too to the moon ; I no longer care a straw for you or all that l eongs to you !’ b With words o f venom and execration, Hildebrand rushed out of the room, whilst �21 the enraged Bernhard and his crowd of guests looked terrified after him. ' I am an undone man ! at last exclaimed Bernhard. ‘ M y child and we are all ruined! The wedding feast and the adornments are all unpaid! Oh cursed, horrid miser ! bring me a knife—a knife !’ A ' fig for a knife!’ exclaimed the fiddler. S ‘ ee here is the bridegroom just come, who has brought with him a whole wallet full of gold,—and the bride loves him with all her heart, and the guests are all together—and my fiddle is in glorious tune!’ With these words Almerich crippled w r o f ard to the half bewildered and yet joyful Berthold, and drew him into the circle: he then wiped the paint off his face with the skirts of his coat, and showed to the delighted bride and the astonished guests their well known neighbour, who was dear and c l eome to all. He then ordered the wallet to w be dragged forward, and having opened the lock, behold a prodigious quantity of pure red gold tumbled out from it, dazzling the eyes of all with its splendour! Old Bernhard and Gertrude embraced Berthold with tears of repentance, and Berthold by turns b m e raced the lovely Siegelind and the ugly dwarf. Almerich took his fiddle and struck up a tune which bewitched them all, and they danced till midnight in joy and glory. The �22 musician then escaped, and le ft a whole house fu ll o f m erry-m akers around the two happy! lovers, who, till their last d a y, a thousand times blessed the bitter w edding in which they had been so w onderfully united by the benevolent lam e dwarf. �23 H IP P S L E Y ’ S D R U N K E N M A N . H ere Betty you jade ! bring me a pint of half-and-half— sure you mix them— and -be put them in separate ju gs. B e tty ! hang that girl—she goes up stairs twenty times a-day, and never comes down again. f n oound the back of this chair, it is always C behind. Well, I have given my wife the slip at la s t : A h ! she is quite a domestic christian— she knocks off the heels of her shoes on a saturday-night to prevent her i o gng to church on the Sunday.— She’s quite a pious woman— whenever I conceal my money, I always put it in the bible, I am sure my wife will never go there to look for it. I have the finest set o f children a man would wish to stick a knife into. There’s my son Jam es—he will be a counsel or a bishop, I am certain, he is so wise :— His mother sent him on an errand; turning the corner of a street, he met a lawyer full plump, which knocked him down—the poor boy has never spoke a word of truth ever since. There’s my daughter P e g —she certainly will be a queen one day or other-—she’s so cute:— The other day her mother was ironing the clothes; the iron was red hot; she, like a wise child took hold of it to help her mother—and what do you think ? she let it drop in a moment. �24 There’s my daughter Sukey, she beyo doubt will be an empress some day I ’m sure, she’s so wonderfully wise :— The Parson or the parish sent a pair of black stocking's to be darned; and to show the child’s wisdom —she darned them with white worsted, and sent the Parson hopping- to church like a magpie. [Takes upa _— Constantinople— One thousand seven hundred— and fast asleep. This evening the Pope was brought to-bed of a pair of twins: what was wonderful, they were booted and spurred, with whips in their hands. This evening, an empty chaise passed this town with a lawyer fast asleep in it. Thursd a y morning at three o’clock in the afternoon, a fire broke out in an empty house and quite consumed the furniture. A poor man fell from a garret window into the street— -very fortunately he had a flannel nightcap on, which saved his brains from being, knocked out. Here B etty! tell my wife to go to a joiner and purchase a wooden grate— I know she is a sensible -woman and very careful— for I think, when the fire is in it, it will be all in a blaze. Here Betty, Betty ! � https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/323191b78cbd667518312e4ff03c1099.jpg f8edeef316f68a96122eca35fcf02b9d Omeka Image File The metadata element set that was included in the `files_images` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all image files. Bit Depth 8 Channels 3 Height 3251 Width 1814 Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Story of the Bitter Wedding. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9934220843505154">s0598b11</a> Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. Hippsley's drunken man. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource [1840-1850?] per National Library of Scotland Extent The size or duration of the resource. 24 pages 16 cm Description An account of the resource Woodcut image of three people outside with a table on the title-page, and a woodcut image of two people at the base of a tree and a man hanging by his arms from a branch on page 22. Is Referenced By A related resource that references, cites, or otherwise points to the described resource. <a title="National Library of Scotland" href="http://www.nls.uk/">National Library of Scotland&nbsp;</a> Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers # of Woodcuts: 2 Bib Context: title-page Chapbook Date: 1841-1850 Chapbook Genre: fairytale/folk tale Chapbook Publisher - Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Furniture: table(s) Gender: man/men Gender: woman/women Nature: tree(s) https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/4ca1b1567f6d1fcb6612ef4222238568.jpg ace25f0bcfdba887347a1f8d6a99d567 Omeka Image File The metadata element set that was included in the `files_images` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all image files. Bit Depth 8 Channels 3 Height 3190 Width 1830 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/a19c5124c264862125e3a021be67b8ba.pdf c656d4fdb303e9d1df1aa60659a8e374 PDF Text Text NEW AND IMPROVED SERIES No. 9. A SELECTION OP RECEIPTS, ADVICES, AND DIRECTIONS, RELATIVE TO H O U S E K E E P I N G , C L E A N I N G , &c, FROM T H E MOST A P P R O V E D SOURCES. GLASGOW: P R I N T E D FOR THE 1850. BOOKSELLERS �C O NT E NTS. rAGE, T H E CHOICE OF A HOUSE,.... 3 Finishings, ,.. Tables,; Chairs, &c., Earthenware and China,... Plate^.;.:/...................... Grates, Gilding, 3 4 4 4 5 5 HOUSEKEEPING & CLEANING, 5 Servants, 6 Wooden Floors, 6 Carpets, 7 Oilcloths, 7 Marble Hearths and Chimney-pieces, 7 Walls of Houses, . 7 Walls of Rooms, 8 Paper-hanging, 8 Picture-frames, ....*... 8 IvoVv, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8 Brass Initi al Work, 8 Windows and LookingGlasses,.......... . . ........... 9 Brass and Copper,............ 9 Grates and Stoves,..., 9 Kitchen Vessels, 10 J Knives, 10 Lamp Glasses, 10 10 t Furniture, Varnishing, 12 Bottles, 12 Plate, 12 Flannel or Woollen Articles, 13 Silks, ... ,.13 Bed Feathers, 13 Lace, Scarlet Cloth, Clear Starching,.. *.. 13 13 14 Stains, ...........1.14 VERMIN, 20 Ink Marks or Iron Moulds, 14 Paint or Grease Spots, 14 To Extract Grease from Silk, 14 To Remove a Tight Stopper, 15 Economical Fuel, 15 To Light a Fire, ....15 Smoky Chimneys, 16 To Purify Water, 19 To Filter Water, 191? Rats and Mice, 20 Bugs, 20 Fleas,..: ...21 • Lice,.:..;.:..:::.;;..*;..:..:.....2i ; Beetles, Cockroaches, &c., 21 Flies, 21 Moths, 21 ' Slugs, ..:............... 22, DOMESTIC MANUFACTURES, ..22 Blacking for Shoes, Blacking-Balls, Blacking for Harness, Cement, Paste, Waterproof Shoes,.. Ink, Bottle Wax, Potato Starch,.^,. Potash. 22" 22: 22: 23' 23l| 23 24 24 24 24 �Tilh XAMTLY RECEIPT BOOK. T H E CHOICE OF A HOUSE. Inhere are several important matters to be taken into con* sideration in making choice of a liouse. In tlie first place, take care that it is not damp. Dampness may arise from -many, causes, but imperfect drainage, and close contact of tha floors with the grqnpd, are the principal. When a house is damp in any part, by all means avoid it, for it may produce the most pernicious effects on the health of your family. Secondly, see that the house has a free open exposure for fresh air, and, if all other ^circumstances suit, prefer that which has an exposure to the south, for you will then have the beneficial influence of the sun's rays. Thirdly, ascertain if there be a plentiful supply of. good water in the premises, and if there be proper means at hand for drying and bleaching clothes. Fourthly, learn whether the vents go well, and do not smoke. There are other inquiries you should also make, such as freedom from vermin, &c., but these are left to your own judgment. FURNISHINGS. When about to furnish a house, "take care to set out on a right principle in the selection of articles, Neatness, and a pleasing effect to the eye, require that there should be a harmony of colours, and a similarity of style in the main articles pf furniture. Therefore, you must exercise a little taste and judgment in your first selections, if you wish to avoid committing a blunder which will cost you much subsequent annoyance. For example, let the tints of the carpet, of the paper or pamt of the walls, and of the window curtains, be •all in harmony in each room—that is, either possess a general resemblance of colour, or various colours in pleasing contrast with each other., Carpets being the most expensive articles, it is safest to buy them first,.and. then to let their colour lead the tone and style of hearthrugs, curtains, paper-hangings, &c. It is also an economical plan to buy carpets of the same pattern �4 for several rooms, because, in the CTf-nt 9 f ai to a house with different sized apartments, a piece of one carpet may be taken to eke out another. T A B L E S , C H A I R S , &C. When ordering tables, chair* V - " f wooden articles of a fine quality, tike - - " / P e c t f r that they mnst he of a 110 v e n e e r e ^ « solid fabric v eneermg is only tolerable i n „ jk>vv articles which are not to be subjected to much tear and wear; nevertheless, a practice has begun of veneering articles in daily use, such as chairs and tables, and consequently they are soon destroyed. Examine closely the back and seat-frames of every mahogany chair, and reject it if it be veneered. In ordering sofas, you should also take care to bargain for genuine hair stuffing, for in many instances the stuffing is composed of what is technically called pob, or a composition of tow, wool, and other kinds of rubbish. E A R T H E N W A R E AND C H I N A . In purchasing your china and earthenware articles for the table, take care to select sets which, in case of breakage, can at all times and in all places be easily matched. If you buy table ware of a peculiar or rare pattern, and afterwards break several pieces, you may find it impossible to replace them. Thus a particular set of earthenware or china, however beautiful and cheap, may ultimately prove a source of great annoyance and no little expense. PLATE. Whatever silver articles you buy, let them be of a genuine kind, or of sterling silver plate, which always keeps its value, however old and worn it may become. Avoid all plated goods, for the plating soon wears off, and then the article is valueless. If you cannot afford to purchase sterling silver plate, your most economical plan, consistent with elegance of appearance, will be to get a few articles of German silver. This is properly the metal called nickel, and closely resembles sterling silver in texture and colour. In hardness and durability, it is superior to sterling silver, and its price is only about a tenth of what genuine plate would cost. German silver is now manufactured to a large extent in England, and is made into spoons, forks, ladles, tea-pots, salvers, dish-covers, and all other articles for the table. The articles in Britannia metal, such as tea-pots, coffee-pots, &c. should be of a durable fabric, and always kept well scoured. �5 GRATES. In choosing grates for your rooms, do not buy those which have burnished steel fronts, as they require more care in cleaning, and are liable to rust during summer when not in use. The best and neatest, as well as the cheapest, grates, are those which are made of cast iron, and of an ornamental pattern. Let the grates which you select be small or of moderate size in the fire-place. Wide, open grates, by admitting cold air into the chimney, are exceedingly liable to smoke. GILDING. Order all the gilding of your picture frames and other articles to be done in oil: it is infinitely more durable, and will wash when soiled. HOUSEKEEPING A N D CLEANING. Every good housewife should keep a regular and continuous account of her income and expenditure. This is a very essential part of domestic duty, and should not be neglected. When properly set about, there is little or no trouble in keeping the household accounts; and for the guidance of young housewives, with whom frugality should be an object, we beg to suggest the following simple plan of keeping them:—Procure a small slate-book—that is, a little book composed of three slates, bound in a plain cover. This, which you write upon with a slate pencil, is your day-booh; it is always at hand for you to scroll down any note of outlay, and will keep several days' or a week's accounts at a time. A t any leisure moment, you carry the entries of outlay from the slates to a small ruled paper book, which is your ledger. One page of this is devoted to money received, and the opposite page to money paid out. By doing this regularly, and comparing the entries of sums received with the entries of sums expended, so as to see that they square with each other, you will find that you possess a complete record of family expenses, satisfactory alike to yourself and to your husband, should he make any inquiry into the subject. The keeping of an account of receipts and disbursements, in this or any other convenient manner, is calculated to check the tendency to over-expenditure, or living beyond the means. Guard against the practice of buying on credit, and running up bills with tradesmen. If you can at all avoid taking credit, do so; for by paying for every article with ready money, you possess two decided advantages—you get every thing cheaper as you want it, and you can go anywhere to seek out the best markets. �6 SERVANTS. The practice of hiring domestic servants for six months at once has partly given place to engagements of one month. It is better that the term hired for at the first should be short, and if both parties- are pleased, a re-engagement can easily be made afterwards. In this manner there is no vexatious obligations to keep together, and a separation can always take place amicably. Many servants remain years in a place, though hired on the understanding that it is only from month to month, or, what is the same thing, hirecl for no fixed period, but just so long as both parties agree; and that, in the event of any dissatisfaction, there shall be a week or a month's warning given to leave. A good mistress generally makes a good servant. She endeavours to. seek out and attach a good servant to herself. She effects this attachment and good-will by simply laying before the servant her line of duties, or what is expected of her, and then leaving her to execute these duties in a regular methodic manner. No servant likes to be interfered with in her work, or to be called away from one thing to do another; nevertheless, some mistresses are not happy "unless they are going in and out of the kitchen, or bustling up and down the house, ordering and counter-ordering or in some other way worrying the servant out of all patience. W e advise the young housewife to prescribe to her servants, in plain terms, the duties which she expects they will daily and regularly execute ; and if the servants are unfit to perform them, it is better for both that there should be a separation. Where two or more servants are engaged, the precise duties of each should be expressly defined, in order to prevent disputes between them, and that the work of the house may be duly and properly performed. ; W O O D E N FLOORS, If kept in order by daily, sweeping and other small attentions, may be effectually cleaned by washing them with warm water and soap; but if spots of grease are to be removed, the spots must be previously taken out by fuller's earth. Ink spots may be discharged with spirits of salt. The floors of bedrooms should be washed as seldom as possible. It is most dangerous to the health of the person who occupies the bedroom to wash or scour it, unless the weather be fine, to allow the window to be opened for thoroughly drying the room before night. A damp mop may, when necessary, be passed lightly over the floor. �7 CARPETS. Ordinary Kidderminster carpets can only be cleaned by shaking and beating; if cleaned by means of washing, they become so soft as to be speedily dirtied again, and their appearance is spoiled. Brussels carpets may be cleaned as follows:—Take them np and shake and beat them, so as to render them perfectly free from dust. Have the floor thoroughly scoured and tlry, and nail the carpet firmly down upon it. Take a pailful of clean cold spring water, and put into it about three gills of oxgall. Take another pair with clean cold water only. Now, rub with a soft scrubbing brush some of the Oxgall water on the carpet, which will raise a lather. "When a convenient sized portion is done, wash the lather off with a clean linen cloth dipped in the clean water. Let this water be changed frequently. When all the lather has disappeared, rub the part with a clean dry cloth. After all is done, open the window to allow the carpet to dry. A carpet treated in this manner will be greatly refreshed in colour, particularly the greens. In laying carpets, cover the floor beneath them with large sheets of paper, to prevent dust from rising between the boards. A carpet lasts longer by adopting this precaution. OIL-CLOTIIS. Oil or painted cloths should be laid only on dry floors; if the floor be damp, the cloth will soon mildew and rot. Such cloths, laid even in the driest situation, should be wetted as little as possible. When to be cleaned, they should be wiped with a wet cloth, and rubbed gently till dry. M A R B L E H E A R T H S AND C H I M N E Y P I E C E S May be cleaned as f o l l o w s M i x a gill of soap lees, half a gill of turpentine, and a bullock's gall, and make them into a paste with pipe-clay, which lay upon the marble, and let it remain a day or two, then rub it off, and the stains will have disappeared, unless they are of long standing, when the paste must be again applied. Polished marble requires careful treatment, as any acid will destroy the polish. In general, warm water and soap will be found the safest thing for cleaning chimney pieces. W A L L S OF H O U S E S . The outer surfaces of walls, formed of brick or sandstone, sometimes imbibe moisture from the atmosphere, and this gives a dampness to the interior. If it be found unsuitable to plaster and white-wash the outside, the damp may be greatly �8 prevented by painting the walls with a single coat of oil-paini;, which, by being light in colour, will give a neat and clean effect. W A L L S OF ROOMS. When walls of rooms or staircases are to be painted in oil, let the paint be of the best description. It is not unusual for inferior tradesmen to use whiting, instead of white lead, as a pigment; by this deception, the paint will afterwards scarcely endure washing. Supposing, however, that the paint has been of the best kind, considerable care will be required in cleaning it. The safest and most simple plan is to take a pail of hot water and put into it as much common yellow or soft soap as will raise a lather or froth. Now wash the walls well with a flannel cloth dipped in this water ; then wash this soapy water off with clean flannel and clean warm water. Dry with a clean linen cloth. Do all this equally, so as not to leave smears or parts better washed or wiped than others. P A P E R HANGING. Paper hanging should be first dusted and then cleaned by a stale loaf of bread, with the crumb surface cut smoothly, and gently rubbed, the dirty face of the bread being cut away from time to time. The imitative marble-paper, highly varnished, may be washed with cold water and soap. PAPIER MACHE, now much used for mouldings and ornaments in rooms, may be cleaned with soap and water. PICTURE FRAMES. Picture frames of varnished or French-polished wood may be washed with soap and warm v/ater, and sponge or flannel. Frames which are gilt in the ordinary manner, or " watergilt," cannot endure washing or rubbing; but if "oil-gilt," they may be washed with cold water and a soft brush. IVORY. Ivory may be restored to its original whiteness by cleaning it with a paste of burnt pumice-stone and water, and then placing it under glasses in the sun's rays. B R A S S INITIAL W O R K . This is best cleaned as follows :—Mix tripoli and linseed Oil, and dip into it a rubber of hat, with which polish the work. If the wood be ebony or rosewood, polish it with a little finely-powdered elder-ashes; or make a paste of rottenStone, a little starch, sweet oil, and oxalic acid, mixed with �9 % water. The ornaments of a French clock are, however, best cleaned with bread -crumb, carefully rubbed, so as not to spoil the wood work. Ormolu candlesticks, lamps, and branches, may be cleaned with soap and water. They will bear more cleaning than lacquered articles, which are spoiled by frequent rubbing, or by acids, or strong alkalies. W I N D O W S AND LOOKING-GLASSES. Dip a moistened rag or flannel into indigo, fuller's earth, ashes, or rotten-stone, in impalpable powder, with which smear the glass, and wipe off with a dry soft cloth. Powderblue or whiting, tied up in muslin, and dusted upon the glass, and cleaned off with chamois leather, also gives glass a fine polish. The spots in the silvering of old looking-glasses are caused by damp at the back. Window-panes may be made to resemble ground glass by daubing them with putty, or a brush with a little thin paste. B R A S S AND C O P P E R . Brass and copper are best cleaned with sweet oil and tripoli, powdered bath-brick, rotten-stone, or red brickdust, rubbed on with flannel and polished with leather. A strong solution of oxalic acid in water gives brass a fine colour. Vitriol and spirits of salts soon make brass and copper very bright, but they very soon tarnish, and consequently require more frequent cleaning. A strong ley of roche-alum and water will also improve brass. G R A T E S A N D STOVES. Grates and stoves are cleaned with black lead mixed with turpentine, or with stale beer and yellow soap, and polished off. The finer lead is used dry in lump or powder. The bronzed work of stoves should be only lightly brushed. Rottenstone, or fine emery and sweet oil, is used for the bright work of stoves and polished fire-irons ; the higher the latter are polished, the less likely are they to rust. To prevent rust in articles not often used, rub them with sweet oil, and dust over them fine lime ; or with the following mixture :—To a quart of cold water, add half a pound of quicklime; let it stand until the top is clear, when pour off the liquid and stir up with it some olive oil, until it becomes of a pasty consistence, when it should be rubbed on the metal articles to be preserved. T o fill cracks in stove backs, make a paste of wood ashes, salt, and water. To remove rust, mix tripoli, sulphur, and sweet oil, and clean the articles with it; or mix boiled soft soap with emery No. 3, which will also discharge the fire marks �10 from bright bars. Steel work may also be kept from rust by varnishing it with turpentine in which is dissolved a small proportion of India rubber. Polished* fire-irons may.'be best preserved from rust by being closely wrapped up in strong brown paper. KITCHEN V E S S E L S . The crust on boilers and kettles, arising from the hard water boiled in them, may be prevented by keeping in the vessel a marble, or a potato tied in a piece of linen. Tin plate vessels are cleanly and convenient, but unless dried after washing, will soon rust in holes. Iron coal-scoops are liable to rust from the damp of t W coals. The tinning of copper saucepans must be kept perfectly clean and dry, in which case they may be used with safety. Copper pans, if put away damp, or a boiling-copper, if left wet, will become coated with poisonous crust, or verdigris. Untinned copper or brass vessels, even if scoured bright and clean, are always dangerous. If made dishes be allowed to cool and stand in copper vessels, the articles will become poisonous. In the year 1837, a lady and her family, residing in Paris, were poisoned by partaking of a stew which had been allowed to stand and get cold in a copper pan. A German saucepan is best for boiling milk in. This is an iron saucepan, glazed with white earthenware instead of being tinned, the glaze preventing its tendency to burn. A stewpan made like it is also preferable to d copper pan, since simple washing keeps it sweet and clean. A method of glazing saucepans with earthenware has lately been the obj ect of a patent in England. Zinc sieves are more easily kept clean than those made of hair, will last longer, and not rust. KNIVES. Knives are best cleaned by rubbing on a flat board covered with leather, on which is put finely powdered brick-dust. Never put knives in hot water, for that loosens the handles and spoils the temper of the steel. For simple cleaning after use, wipe them only with a damp and then with a dry cloth. L A M P GLASSES. If the lamp glasses be ground, burnt spots upon them cannot be removed, but they may be cleaned from the effects of smoke by washing with soap and water, and then rubbed with a dry cloth. The glasses should always be ground on the outside. FURNITURE. Mahogany furniture is always best cleaned by continual rubbing; and no ordinary stuff that may be applied will com- �11 perisate the want of this requisite. Some furniture is what is called "French polished;" but this French polish is an unguent possessed and applied only by cabinet-makers, and readily to be had by housekeepers. In ordinary circumstances, therefore, the furniture must be well rubbed, and with some easily procurable material. The following are, the materials we suggest:—Take a gill and a half of unboiled linseed oil, one gill of turpentine, and a tea-spoonful of pounded loaf sugar. Shake all well together, and rub a portion on the furniture with a piece of flannel, and polish with a linen cloth. An oil for darkening furniture may be made as follows;— Mix in one pint of linseed oil an ounce of powdered rose-pink, to which add one ounce of alkanet root, beaten in a metal mortar ; let the mixture stand in a warm place for a few days, when the substances will have settled, and the oil, of a deep rich colour, may be poured off for use : or mix one ounce of alkanet root, four ounces of shell-lac varnish, two ounces of turpentine, and the same quantity of scraped bees' wax, with a pint of linseed o i l ; and when they have stood a week, the mixture will be ready for use. Furniture paste is made by scraping a quarter of a pound of bees'-wax into half a pint of turpentine, and letting it stand to dissolve. This will keep the wood light. If, however, a quarter of a pint of linseed oil be added to the above, the composition will darken the wood. Another paste, useful for very light wood, is made as follows:—In a quart of hot water dissolve six ounces of pearl-ash, add a quarter of a pound of white wax, and simmer the whole for half an hour in a pipkin ; take it off the fire, and when it has cooled, the wax will float upon the surface, and should be worked in a mortar, with a little hot water, into a soft paste. With this, furniture maybe highly polished, as may also marble chimneypieces. It is necessary to mention, that furniture cleaned with paste has the disadvantage of receiving heat-marks more readily than if polished with linseed-oil, which, however, requires more time and labour. In any case, the furniture should be cleansed from grease and stains before polishing is attempted; and this may be done by washing the wood with hot beer, or with soap and water. The safest way to heat furniture paste or oil is to place the vessel containing it in another holding boiling water upon the fire. A fine varnish for mahogany or other furniture may be thus m a d e P u t into a bottle two ounces of gum-sandrac, one ounce of shell-lac, half an ounce of mastic, half an ounce of gum-benjamin, one ounce of Venice turpentine, anda pint of spirits of wine. Colour red with dragon's blood, or yellow ) \ �12 with saffron. Let it stand in a warm place until the gums are dissolved, when strain it for use. VAUNISHING. Before new furniture is varnished, it should have a coat of boiled oil, (if wished to be darkened,) or linseed oil, and be left a day or two to harden; or a thin size, made from isingglass or gum-tragacanth, dissolved in water, or very thin glue, is used; so that the pores of the wood be filled up, and both varnish and time be thus saved. A good varnish may be made by dissolving eight ounces of white wax and half an ounce of yellow rosin in a pint of spirits of turpentine. BOTTLES. Cut a raw potato into small pieces, and put them in the bottle along with a table-spoonful of salt, and two tablespoonfuls of water. Shake all well together in the bottle till every mark is removed, and rinse with clean water. This will remove stains of wine, green marks of vegetation, and other discolourations. Hard crust in bottles may be cleaned off by rinsing with water and small shot. Take care to wash out all the shot before putting the bottles aside. PLATE. Articles of plate, after being used, should be washed in hot water, or, if stained, they should be boiled, and rinsed and dried before you attempt to clean them. They should be carefully handled, else they may receive deep scratches, which are very difficult to remove. Besides, the object is not merely to clean the plate, but to polish it, so that it may appear almost as brilliant as when it was received new from the silversmith. For this purpose quicksilver was formerly much used in plate-powder, and it gave the silver great lustre, which soon, however, disappeared, and the article became tarnished and blackened. The best plate-powder consists of dried and finely-sifted whiting or chalk. The greater part of the whiting sold in the shops is coarse trash, unfit for rubbing upon plate, and great care must be taken to procure the finest London whiting, which will not scratch. Brushes, hard and soft, sponge, and wash leather, are requisites for cleaning plate; if the powder be mixed with spirits of wine laid on with a sponge, and rubbed off with wash-leather, all tarnish will be removed. Salt stains (blackish spots) and sulphur marks from eggs are more difficult to remove. It is a good plan to boil a soft fine old cloth in water with some prepared chalk dissolved in it, and to drv �13 the cloth, and use it for polishing. The soft brush is for the same purpose, the hard brush being for chased work, edges, and crests, so that not a portion of dry powder may remain in them. Plate should in all cases be finished with a fine dry vvash-leather. Plated articles should be carefully wiped dry after washing them, else they will rust or canker at the edges, where the silver first wears off; and on this account, also, they should be cleaned as rarely as possible. German silver may be cleaned in the same manner as plate. F L A N N E L OK W O O L L E N A R T I C L E S . Wash them quickly with warm water, with soap. Wring and shake them well, and hang them up to dry. Do not let them lie wet. The more quickly they are dried, the less likely are they to shrink. SILKS. No silks look well after washing, however carefully it be done, and should therefore never be resorted to but from absolute necessity. W e have seen it recommended to sponge faded silks with warm water and soap, then to rub them with a dry cloth on a flat board, after which to iron them on the inside with a smoothing iron. Sponging with spirits will also improve old black silks. The ironing may be done on the right side, with thin paper spread over them to prevent glazing. B E D FEATHERS. Put a manageable quantity into a pillow case or bag, which wash with warm water and soap. Wring out the lather, and rinse them in clean water. Wring them as dry as possible, and hang them up to dry. Shake them frequently while drying. When quite dry, beat them to free them from any dust. They may be now taken from the bag, and are ready for use. LACE. When lace has lost its colour, soap it well and put it in cold water, just enough to cover it. If much discoloured, change the water at the end of twenty-four hours. When steeped sufficiently, rinse it out; starch it a little; pick it out as evenly as possible; roll it in a towel, and when nearly dry, iron it. All kinds of lace veils may be treated in a similar manner. * SCARLET CLOTH. Pour boiling water upon bran, strain it, and, while hot, wash the cloth in it, and rinse with hot water. Soap should �u not be used. Purple cloth may be washed in hot water and pure' ley. Saxony or dark print dresses should be washed in two lathers, and in the second should be poured a little oxgall, which will freshen reds, blacks, and greens; and a handful of salt added to the last rinsing-water will prevent the colours running; . - , , C L E A R STARCHING. Clear starching is practised as follows:—llinse the articles in three waters, dry them, and clip them in a thick starch, previously strained through muslin; squeeze them, shake them gently, and again hang them up to dry; and when dry, dip them twice or thrice in clear water, squeeze them, spread them on a linen cloth, roll tjiem up in it, and let them lie an hour before ironing them. Some persons put sugar into the starch, to prevent it sticking while ironing, and others stir the starch with a candle to effect the same end; we object to these practices as injurious to the article starched, or as very nauseous. The best plan to prevent sticking is to make the starch well, and to have the irons' quite clean and highly polished. , ... STAINS. . , Stains of fruit or wine may be generally removed from linen or cotton cloth by placing the articles over the top of a pail, and pouring boiling water through them till the marks disappear. I N K M A R K S OR I R O N M O U L D S . Ink marks or iron moulds may be removed by placing a plate (a pewter One is the best) on the top of a basinful of boiling water; then spread the articles on the plate; wet the spot, and rub it with a small quantity of the salts of lemon; as the article dries, the stain will disappear. If this fail, repeat the operation. A small box of salts of lemon will be found very useful in a household. P A I N T OR G R E A S E SPOTS. Paint or grease spots may be removed from woollen cloth by turpentine. Smith's scouring drops is a liquid sold in small bottles, which will also be found efficacious in removing oil or grease marks ; it is more expensive than turpentine, but has a less offensive odour. T o E X T R A C T G R E A S E EROM S I L K . As soon after the discovery of the injury as possible, hold the part firmly, and with a clean soft white cloth, or an old �15 cambric handkerchief, rub the spot briskly, changing the portions of the handkerchief frequently and in a minute or two the spot will disappear. On silks which fray easily, this plan will be unsuitable. T o R E M O T E A T I G H T STOPPER. It frequently happens that the stopper of a glass bottle or decanter, becomes fixed in its place so firmly, that the exertion of force sufficient, to withdraw it would endanger the vessel. In this case, if a cloth be wetted with hot water, and applied to the neck of the bottle, the glass will expand, and the neck will be enlarged, so as to allow1 the stopper to be easily withdrawn. . ECONOMICAL F U E L . . , In places where coal is scarce and dear, a tolerably good fuel may be made by mixing the culm or refuse dross of coal with clay, and moistening the whole with water—masses in the form of bricks or balls • may be made, which, when dry, will, burn with an intense heat. Where peat'prevails, that article may be easily charred by burning in a covered pit or stove ; and this charred peat will be found to give a great heat when used in an open fire. The Dutch make much use of their turf in this manner. Another economical fuel, easily procurable where there are woods of Scotch firs, consists of fir cones or tops, which contain a great quantity of solid woody matter in addition to the resinous, and are excellently adapted for domestic fires. T o LIGHT A FIRE. To light a fire, clear the ashes from the grate, leaving a few cinders for a foundation, upon which put a piece of dry crumpled brown paper, and lay on a few small sticks crosswise, then some of larger size, and on them a few pieces of coal, and next the large cinders; and when the flames have caught the coal, add a backing of small coal and cinders. When the fire has become low, stir it together, but do not turn the large cinders; clear the front of the lower bar to admit air, and pass the poker into the bottom of the fire, to clear it of ashes; and then with tongs put on a few large pieces of coal towards the front of the fire, but not on the upper, else the fire will smoke. Coals should not be thrown on, but put on gently with a scoop or shovel ; and even the smallest ashes may be burnt at the back of the fire, if they be covered with small coal. The best and quickest mode of restoring a neglected fire is to stir out the ashes, and. with the tongs to fill up the spaces between the bars with cinders. If �16 carefully done, it is surprising how soon this process will produce a glowing fire. Ashes and small cinders mixed with water into a mass, and put on the back of a fire with a few coals, burn well, so that ashes may thus be entirely burnt up. In stoves under boilers, this mixture is very useful, as it lasts long, with little addition. SMOKY CHIMNEYS. The cause of smokiness in chimneys are various; but all .re connected with the properties of air and heat, for the smoke is only particles of culm ascending through the agency of heated air. To make a chimney vent well, the column of heated air from the fire must not be entangled with cold air from beneath nor retarded by cold air coming down the chimney. To effect these objects, the fire-place must not be much larger than the grate, and the chimney must be of a certain length and bent. The great leading cause of smokiness is cold air somehow or other mixing with the warm air about the mouth or throat of the chinmey, and so causing a sluggishness in the ascent, or no ascent at all. Therefore, the nearer the air is made to pass the fire on all sides, the more rarefied it will be; and the less vacancy there is in the chimney-place, it will ascend with the greater rapidity. A proper contraction of the mouth of the chimney, at the same time allowing the fire to be fed freely with air, will be found in most instances to cure smoke. Of late, certain contrivances called dampers, by which the chimney throat can be narrowed, have been the means of effecting draughts, and so curing smoke. It should be noted, that in contracting chimneythroats, the contraction should not be all at once, but at first gradual, and then straight upward, so as not to allow a volume of cold air to lurk in a hollow above. A chimney being wide at bottom, and gradually narrowing towards the next storey, allows the coldish air to hang about the lower parts, by which, when a gust of wind comes, the smoke is driven back into the room. This kind of smokiness is the most teasing of all the forms of chimney diseases. Every little puff of wind sends a smaller or larger quantity of smoke into the apartment, and often when it is least expected. Perhaps this kind of smokiness is not in all cases caused by wrong construction, but arises from the situation of the house; and of this we shall immediately say a few words. If a funnel of a chimney be made too narrow to afford an easy passage to the top, the smoke will then naturally be forced into the room to find some other passage; this defect % �17 is very common, and the remedy troublesome and difficult. The most effectual cure, if the situation will admit, is to build a small additional flue, and open a hole into it from the back of the chimney, near the level of the mantel-piece, slanting upwards in an easy direction ; this supplemental flue must be carried to the top of the building to receive the surplus of the smoke, and will prove a certain cure. If the situation will not allow of this expedient, the fire-place may be contracted both in breadth and height, a smaller grate used, and the chimney heightened at the top ; which will oblige the air to pass close over the fire, and carry up the smoke with greater rapidity, for the quicker the current, the less room it requires. Should the chimney still smoke, a blower, or front plate, to put on and take off at pleasure, will be of use. But it none of these prescriptions answer, then something must be done to improve the current of air towards the fire. This brings us to a consideration of the want of ventilation in the room. If the chimney and fire-place be faultless, and yet smoke, it is almost certain that there is a want of ventilation. In ordinary circumstances, as much air is admitted by chinks in windows and doors as will feed a fire; but if the room be rendered very close by closing as many chinks as possible, how is the fire to receive air ? According to the plan on which houses are generally built, ventilation is left to be a matter of chance. To ventilate an old house is therefore no easy task. The following plans are worth considering, for they have been found to answer:—Contrive to bring a small tube from the external air, or from a staircase or lobby, to a point beneath the grate, so as to cause a free current of air to reach the fire. If the mouth of the tube below the grate be topped with a cowl, the ashes will be prevented from falling into it. Some years ago, the rooms of a public office in Edinburgh were completely cured of smoke by this simple contrivance, after all other means had failed. Another plan consists in perforating small holes in the cornice or roof, for the air to gain admission ; but, unfortunately, unless care be taken to prevent colds, the cure is apt to be worse than the disease. Cases are by no means uncommon of fire-places giving out a puff of smoke every time the door of the room is shut. The cause of this kind of smokiness is the want of ventilation in the room. In shutting the door, it pulls out a certain quantity of air, which cannot be afforded to be lost, or it causes such distraction of the current towards the fire, that the equilibrium that carries up the smoke is destroyed, and a puff downwards—in other words, a rush of air loaded with smoke �18 from the chimney—is the consequence. It will be remarked, that this smokiness occurs most frequently when the door is on the same side of the room as the fire-place. W e should therefore advise house-planners to avoid this bad arrangement. If possible, let the door be on a different side from that in which the fire is placed. Most houses in which the chimneys go up the middle walls instead of the gables, have the fault we mention. A remedy for this smokiness is to contract the mouth of the chimney, and, if possible, heighten the stalk; for if the chimney be pretty long, the heated air ascending it goes with such a force that the outer heavy air cannot get down, at least not to so great an extent as to cause a puff when the door is shutting. In some cases, the cause of the disease will be found to be air rushing up behind the grate, if a register, and then coming down to supply the fire, the action of the door disturbing the current. This is therefore an argument for always taking care to build register stoves quite close behind, not leaving the smallest crevice for air to steal up the chimney without first going through the fire. In erecting chimneys, it should be a rule to carry them up a good way in a perpendicular direction, before making a turn, by which means the heated air gains a force in its primary vertical ascent, which carries it,over future difficulties. In walls in which the fire-place of one storey is immediately below the fire-place^,above, it is impossible to get a perfect straight for any great length; therefore this must be left to the judgment of the builder. It is also advantageous for ail chimneys to have a bend in them before reaching the top, and a garret chimney should have two bends. For want of attention to this top bending, many cottage and small villa chimneys smoke. The use of bends is obvious. Strong, sudden, and accidental gusts of wind sometimes enter, and beat into the top of the chimney; a turning or bend, therefore, will break the force of the wind, and prevent it repelling the heated air downwards. But if the chimney is straight, and the gust meet with no interruption, it will stop the passage of the smoke for a while, and of course force what rises from the fire immediately into the chamber. It is to be observed that the farther the wind gets down the funnel the greater strength will be required to repel i t ; therefore the nearer to the top the bend or winding is, the better. Also, if there is a storm of wind, with heavy showers of hail, snow, or rain, falling perpendicularly in great drops, the first bend or turning will, in part, stop their progress ; but if the funnel is perpendicular all the way down, the great drops of hail, show, and rain, will fall freely to the bottom, repelling the smoke into the room; and if the funnel is �19 foul, great quantities of soot will be driven down. These reasons recommend a bend in some part of the funnel as absolutely necessary. Garret chimneys are more liable to smoke than any other in the house, owing to the shortness of the funnel : for when the composition of rarified air and smoke has made its way up a high funnel, it forms a strong column, and to repel it requires a proportionably great force; but in a garret chimney this strong column cannot be obtained; therefore, what cannot be had from nature must be aimed at by art. The fault in most garret chimneys is being carried up in a straight direction from bottom to top in a slovenly manner, and with funnels as large as any in the house; whereby the little internal rarefied air has the whole immediate pressure of the atmosphere to resist, which, in general, is too powerful for it. But a garret or cottage chimney carried up and executed in a proper manner, with due proportion in every part, according to the size of the room, and the funnel in an easy crooked direction, will draw and be as clear from smoke as any other. T o PURIFY WATER. To purify water, put into a hogshead of it a large tablespoonful of powdered alum, stir it, and in a few hours the impurities will be sent to the bottom. A pailful of four gallons may be purified by a single tea-spoonful of alum. Freshlyburnt charcoal is also an excellent sweetener of water. T O FILTER WATER. Put into an earthen vessel (such as sugar-bakers use to form the loaves in, with a small hole at the bottom or pointed end) some pieces of sponge, and on them a sufficient number of small clean peebles to quarter-fill the vessel. Hang this filter end downward, in a barrel with the head out, leaving a space of about two or three inches between the end of the filter and the bottom of the barrel* The upper part of the filter should be kept a little above the top of the barrel, which must always be kept full of water. The sediment of tho water Will remain at the bottom of the barrel, and the pure water will rise through the sponge and pebbles to the vacant part of the filter. It may be hung in a cistern, or water-butt if more convenient. The pebbles and sponge should be cleansed occasionally. Another economical filter may be made by taking out the head of a cask, setting it upright, and at a distance of about one-third from the bottom putting in a shelf or partition pierced with small holes ; this shelf being covered with �20 pebbles, upon which is a layer of fresh charcoal made front bones; and over this lay fine sand, to the depth of an inch, covered with another layer of pebbles ; and upon this should be placed another shelf, pierced with holes, to prevent the pebbles, sand, and charcoal being disturbed by the water which is poured or runs in at the top of the cask; and after passing through the filter, is drawn t>ff by a crane placed a* the bottom of the cask. VERMIN. The best plan for preventing the attacks of vermin in houses is to keep the house scrupulously clean; for where there is cleanliness and ordinary precautions, no vermin will generate or exist. R A T S AND M I C E . These might in some instances be completely prevented from encroaching in dwellings by giving a solid foundation to the house, cutting off the approach by grating the drains, but especially by filling up all open spaces beneath pavements and in walls and partitions. Mice might be effectually kept out by only filling up the spaces behind skirting boards in rooms. These vacant spaces are invariably the habitations of mice, and the first thing any person should do in entering into possession of a domicile, is to cause all the spaces behind the skirting-boards and wainscoats to be filled with plaster. Where mice and rats have gained a footing in a house, they should be taken off by a cat or trap, and when one kind of trap fails, another may be tried. All schemes for poisoning them with arsenic or other ingredients are dangerous, and cannot be recommended. BUGS. These pests exist only in dirty houses. A carefui housewife or servant will soon completely destroy them. The surest method of destruction is to catch them individually when they attack the person in bed. When their bite is felt, instantly rise and light a candle and capture them. This may be troublesome, but if there be not a great number, a few nights will finish them. When there is a large number, and they have gained a lodgment in the timbers, take the bed in pieces, and fill in all the apertures and joints with a mixture of soft soap and Scotch snuff. A piece of wicker-work, called a bug- �21 placed bed, forms a receptacle for i . ' , and then they may be daily caught till no more are left. Fumigations are very dangerous, and rarely effectual, therefore attempt no such project. Oil-painting a wall is a means of excluding and destroying them. t clie FLEAS. There is no way of ridding a bed or house of these vermin but excessive cleanliness. Keep the floors well swept and washed, and if you have a dog, comb and wash it frequently. Fleas are bred on the ground, or among dust. LICE. Lice are now almost unknown in England. Wherever they are found, there certainly also is found dirtiness. Ignorant people imagine that these nauseous vermin breed spontaneously; this is a gross error. By cleanliness they are completely prevented;.. and the more warm the climate, so is the necessity for cleanliness greater. B E E T L E S , COCKROACHES, AND C R I C K E T S . These may be caught in traps. A simple trap for them is a glazed basin or pie-dish half-filled with sweetened beer or milk, and to the edge of which a piece of wood is laid from the floor as a gangway. Do not attempt poisoning or fumigation. FLIES. It is difficult to rid a house of flies by any other plan than by poisoning, and that is too dangerous to be recommended. A composition of milk, sugar, and pepper, will attract and kill them, and so will a decoction ofquasia; but both cause them to make offensive marks on the walls and furniture before they die. Gilt frames and chandeliers should be shrouded in thin yellow gauze or paper, in situations where the flies are likely to spoil them. Trees about a house form a harbour for flies, as well as dirt of all kinds. Cleanliness and airiness are the best preventives. MOTHS. The best way to preserve furs or worsteds from mothg is to sew them closely up in a bag of new unwashed linen; if this is not done, the next best is to take the articles frequently out and brush and air them. The odour of camphor, shavings of Russia leather, lavender, &c., are much less efficacious than they are supposed to be. Kill every flying moth which you see. �; . '.SLUGS. . . Take .1 quantity of cabbage leaves, and either put them into a warm oven, or hold them before a fire till they are quite soft; then rub them with unsalted butter, or any kind of fresh dripping, and lay them in the places infested with slugs. In a few hours the leaves will ,be found covered with snails and slugs, which may then be destroyed in any way you think fit. DOMESTIC MANUFACTURES. The attempt to make all sorts of articles for domestic use is now far from economical, as the time and expense bestowed upon them are often of greater amount than what would buy the things ready from shops. W e therefore confine our directions to articles which may require to be manufactured in families at a great distance from towns, or for the families of emigrants in remote settlements. B L A C K I N G FOR SHOES. There arc many ways of making this article, the chief ingredients ; employed being ivory black, vinegar or sour beer, sugar, a little sweet oil, and oil of vitriol. A good blacking may be made as follows:—Mix three ounces of ivory-black, two ounces of treacle, a table-spoonful of sweet oil, one ounce of vitriol, one ounce of gum-arabic dissolved in water, and a pint of vinegar. BLACKING-BALLS. For blacking-balls mix one pound of ivory-black, one pound of lamp-back, a quarter of a pound of gum-arabic dissolved in water, six Ounces of brown sugar, half an ounce., of melted glue, and a quart of water; and make into balls. A fine blacking for dress-shoes may be made by well beating two eggs, and adding a table-spoonful of spirits of wine, a lump of sugar, and ivory-black to thicken. This blacking may also be used for restoring the black leather seats and backs of chairs, etc. In should be laid on and polished as other blacking, and then left a day to harden. B L A C K I N G FOR H A R N E S S . Melt two ounces of ; mutton suet with six ounces of befes'wax ; add six ounces of sugar-candy, and two ounces of soft soap dissolved in water, and one ounce of indigo finely pow- �23 dered; and when melted and well mixed, add a gill of turpentine. Lay it on the harness with a sponge, and polish oft with a brush. - "' i vv CEMENT. Various preparations are used for mending broken china, earthenware, and glass. The most successful are as follows:— Beat the white of an egg with quicklime, in impalpable powder, into a paste; to which is sometimes added a little whey, made by mixing vinegar and milk. A little isinglass, dissolved in mastic varnish, is another cement. Nature supplies some cements ready to our hands—as the juice of garlic, and the white slime of large snails; and it lias been stated in a respectable scientific journal, that a broken flint has been joined so effectually with this snail cement, that when dashed npon a stone pavement, the flint broke elsewhere than at the cemented parts. In their anxiety to unite broken articles, persons generally defeat themselves by spreading the cement too thickly upon the edges of the article, whereas the least possible quantity should be Used, so as to bring the edges almost close together; and this may be aided by heating the fragments to be joined.. • ' " • • ~ ' PASTE. 7 Paste is useful m a house for preparing walls, cupboards, boxes, labelling, &c. Dr. M'Culloch, of Edinburgh, employs " paste made of flour in the usual way, but rather thick, with a proportion of brown sugar, and a small quantity of corrosive sublimate. The use of the sugar is to keep it flexible, so as to prevent it scaling off from smooth surfaces; and that of the corrosive sublimate—independent of preserving it from insects —is an effectual check against its fermentation. This salt does not, however, prevent the formation of mouldiness ; but a drop or two of oil of lavender, peppermint, or anise-seed, is a complete security againgst this. W A T E R P R O O F STWTI: TOR SHOES. In winter, or during wet weather, shoes may be rendered durable by applying to the soles and seams a composition made of the following materials:—Half a pint of boiled linseed Oil, two table-spoonfuls of turpentine, one ounce of bees'-wax, and a quarter of an ounce of Burgundy pitch. Melt the whole together, and apply with a Brush-before the fire. • Repeat the application till the soles will absorb no more. Neats'-foot oil, alone, will be found an excellent preservation of shoes in wet weather. �24 INK. An excellent ink suitable for writing with steel pens, which it does not corrode, may be made of the following articles:— Sixty grains of caustic soda, a pint of water, and as much Indian ink as you think fit for making a proper blackness. BOTTLE W A X . A good kind of bottle wax or cement may be cheaply made as f o l l o w s P u t into an iron ladle half a pound of rosin, two ounces of bees'-wax, and when melted over the fire, stir in Venetian red, lamp-black, or other colouring; and apply while hot. If kept for after use, melt with a candle as usual when applied. POTATO-STARCH. Wash and peel a gallon of good potatoes, grate them into a pail of water, stir frequently, and then let them settle. On the following day the starch will be found at the bottom of the pail; when pour off the water, add fresh, stir as before, and let it subside a second time; when pour off the water, and dry the sediment in the sun or a slow oven. An excellent starch may also be made by setting in a cool place the water in which rice has been boiled (though not in a cloth,) which will in twenty-four hours become a strong starch. POTASHES. Settlers in the backwoods of America, or other woody regions, have an opportunity of manufacturing potash, an article of great use and considerable value. A vast quantity of this substance is annually made in Canada, and exported to Great Britain. Potashes are made from the ashes of burnt trees. In burning timber to clear the land, the ashes are carefully preserved, and put in barrels, or other vessels with holes in the bottom; and water being poured over them, a liquid or alkali is run off; this ley being boiled in large boilers, the watery particles evaporate, and leave what is called black salts, a sort of residuum, which, when heated to a high degree, becomes fused, and finally, when cool, assumes the character of potash. By these potashes the Canadians make their own soap; the ley of a barrel of ashes, boiled along with ten pounds of tallow, till it is of a proper consistence, produces about forty )ounds of very good soft soap. It is related, that when the and has been covered with heavy timber of a hard nature, there is such a quantity of ashes produced that their value will pay for clearing the land. f � 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 Family Receipt Book; A selection of receipts, advices, and directions, relative to Housekeeping, Cleaning, &amp;c, from the most approved sources. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1850 Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9935661153505154">s0587b46</a> Extent The size or duration of the resource. 24 pages 16 cm Description An account of the resource New and Improved Series No. 9. Price One Penny. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Is Referenced By A related resource that references, cites, or otherwise points to the described resource. <a title="National Library of Scotland" href="http://www.nls.uk/">National Library of Scotland</a> <a title="niversity of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks" href="http://special.lib.gla.ac.uk/chapbooks/search/">University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks&nbsp;</a> Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Type The nature or genre of the resource domestic manual Subject The topic of the resource Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow Food 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: 1841-1850 Chapbook Genre: domestic manual Chapbook Publisher - Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/6d811199049ccc5b01616be853ee62aa.pdf b788304714aabb01006c22225e2333bd PDF Text Text FOUR SONGS CHERRY-CHEEKED PATTY. JUDY O'FLANNIKIN. NO PEACE ABOUT THE HOUSE. MAGGIE LAUDER. GLASGOW: PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS. 68. �SONGS. CHERRY-CHEEKED PATTY. Down in yon vale I lives so snug, Thev call me Giles the ploughman's boy; At the sound of the horn I rise in the morn, And I whittle, I whistle, and whoop gee wo I cry* My work being done, to the lawn then* I fly, Where the lads and the lasses all look very sly And I'ze deeply in love with a girl, it is true, 'Cause I knows what I knows, but I munna tell you; Then I'll whistle, I'll whistle, and of all the girls I ever did see, Oh ! cherry-cheeked Patty for me. The squire, though so great, so happy mayn't be As simple Giles, the ploughman's boy; At the sound of the horn I rise in t ie morn, And I whistle, I whistle, and whoop gee wo I cry; There's cherry-cheeked Patty, who lives in the vale, That I help o'er the stile with her milking-pail, And she has a right notion of me, it is true, 'Cause I knows, &c. �3 So able and strong, and willing to work, And when the lark rises, off trudge I ; At the sound of the horn I rise in the morn, And I whistle, I whistle, and whoop gee wo I cry. There's the lord of the valley, he tries in vain, And does all he can my Patty to gain, Let him do what he will, it never will do, 'Cause I knows, &c. My Patty consented next week to be The wife of Giles the ploughman's boy; Then my cows up I'll call, And I'll harness old Ball, And I'll whistle, I'll whistle, and whoop gee wo I'll cry. And when from the church we do trip it away, Along with the old ones we'll spend the whole day, But night coming on, we'll bid them adieu, 'Cause I knows, &c. JUDY O'FLANNIKIN. O whack ! Cupid's a mannikin, Smack on my back he hit me a polter, Good lack! Judy O'Flannikin, Dearly she loves neat Looney Mactwolter. Judy's my darling, my kisses she suffers, She's an heiress, that's clear, For her father sells beer, He keeps the sign of the Cow and the Snuffers. �4 She's so smart, From my heart, I cannot bolt her, Oh whack, Judy O'Flannikin ! She is the girl for Looney Mactwolter. Ochone! good news I need a bit, We'd correspond, but learning would choke her, Mavrone! I cannot read a bit, Judy can't tell a pen from a proker. Judy's so constant, I'll never forsake her, She's as true as the moon, Only one afternoon I caught her asleep with a hump-back'd shoemaker. Oh! she's so smart, From my heart I cannot bolt her, Oh, whack! Judy O'Flannikin! She is the girl for Looney Mactwolter NO PEACE ABOUT THE HOUSE. There is no peace about the house, In kitchen, parlour, hall, There is no comfort in the house On Saturday at all. Where'er you turn, a noise assails Brushes, brooms and mops, Besides a host of pans and pails, For various stinking slops. �5 Then there's rubbing, scrubbing, tearing, swearing, echoing every way;— Of all the days throughout the week, the worst is Saturday. Hark, is that dread thunder near ? Or noisy drum and fife ? Oh no, the music that I hear Is charwoman and wife; Both laughing, scolding, talking, singing, 'Gad, there's such a din. That all Babel's workmen ringing, Conquer'd must give in— To their rubbing, scrubbing, tearing, swearing, echoing every way,— Of all the days within the week, the worst is Saturday. In apron blue, now comes your belle, And gown well stored with holes ; For colour, it might passing well Claim kindred with the coals. Then she says, ' You know, my dear, Some make their husbands rue, By taking their good clothes to wear, When any thing will do, For their scrubbing, rubbing, tearing, wearing/ O, curse them all, I say,— Of all the days throughout the week, the worst is Saturday. Begrimed with dust, with dirt and grease, She now sits down to dine; �6 At banyan day, of bread and cheese You must not now repine; Your goods and chattels now displaced, All in confusion stand; Some are broke, and some defac'd, By each destructive hand, With their rubbing, scrubbing tearing, swearing, sounding every way,— Of all the days that's in the week, the worst is Saturday. At length, thank Fate, the warfare's o'er, But now, the peevish trump Insists that all across the floor We must hop, skip and jump, For fear that milk-white boards should soil, Or furniture bewray, Oh, wo to him that dares to spoil The work of Saturday; After rubbing, scrubbing, tearing, swearing, all their time away,— Of all the days that make the week, the worst is Saturday. Then to avoid a din and noise, For rational delight, We haste to join some jolly boys, On Saturday at night; Then we're met—a jovial set, We drive dull care away; In harmony we soon forget The woes of Saturday. �7 And their rubbing, scrubbing, tearing, swearing, all the live-long day; But the night of mirth will soon requite the woes or Saturday. M A G G I E LAUDER. Wha wadna be in love Wi* bonnie Maggie Lauder ? A piper met her gaun to Fife, And spier'd what was't they ca'd her ? Right scornfully she answer'd him, Begone, you hallanshaker; Jog on your gate, you bladderskate, My name is Maggie Lauder. Maggie, quoth he, and by my bags, I'm fidging fain to see thee, Sit down by me, my bonny bird, In troth I winna steer thee: For I'm a piper to my trade, My name is Rob the Ranter, The lasses loup like they were daft, When I blaw up my chanter. Piper, quoth Meg, hae you your bags Or is your drone in order ? If ye be Rab, I've heard of you, Live you upon the border ? �8 The lasses a' bailh far and near Hae heai d of Rob the Ranter, I'll shake my foot wi' right good will, Gif you'll blaw up your chanter. Then to his bags he flew with speed, About the drone he twisted, Meg up and walloped o'er the green, For brawly could she frisk it. Weel done, quoth he : play up, quoth she; Weel bobb'd, quoth Rob the Ranter, 'Tis worth my while to play indeed, When I hae sic a dancer. Weel hae you play'd your part, quoth Meg, Your cheeks are like the crimson; There's nane in Scotland plays sae weel, Since we lost Habby Simson. I've lived in Fife baith maid and wife, These ten years and a quarter; Gin you should come to Anster Fair, Spier ye for Maggy Lauder. For a' the talk and loud reports That ever ga'ed against her, Meg proves a true and carefu' wife, As ever was in Anster. An' since the marriage knot was tied, Rob swears he couldna want her, For he loes Maggie as his life, An' Meg loes Rob the Ranter. � https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/f7e52cd1e2f4bf2f49b31cfbc8492953.jpg 24383975c3f47c31dcb381a438de117e Omeka Image File The metadata element set that was included in the `files_images` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all image files. Bit Depth 8 Channels 3 Height 3072 Width 1891 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 Four Songs. Cherry-Cheeked Patty. Judy O'Flannikin. No Peace about the house. Maggie Lauder. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9934228183505154">s0585b31</a> Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. Cherry-Cheeked Patty. Judy O'Flannikin. No Peace about the house. Maggie Lauder. 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 15 cm Description An account of the resource 68 printed at the bottom of the title-page. Subject The topic of the resource Ballads and songs Wit and Humor Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Is Referenced By A related resource that references, cites, or otherwise points to the described resource. <a title="National Library of Scotland" href="http://www.nls.uk/">National Library of Scotland&nbsp;</a> <a title="University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks" href="http://special.lib.gla.ac.uk/chapbooks/search/">University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks&nbsp;</a> Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Language A language of the resource English 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 # 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): belted plaid Fashion (Clothing): feather bonnet Fashion (Clothing): Highland attire Fashion (Clothing): kilt Fashion (Clothing): sporran Furniture: stool(s) Musical Instruments: bagpipe(s) https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/a400a13a1a817e8730497ba668982488.jpg a487428e077f788ef9485156b495d2c7 Omeka Image File The metadata element set that was included in the `files_images` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all image files. Bit Depth 8 Channels 3 Height 3072 Width 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 Illustration on title page of a tall ship at sea https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/eaeef5a2861cff3b5713c5fc8da4b4f9.pdf b4e5dc7a9ba7cfa958ae89b4242956a4 PDF Text Text THE PENNY-WORTH OF WIT'S GARLAND, IN THREE PARTS. F A R T I.-—Showing how a Merchant was deluded from his Lady by a Harlot. P A R T I I . — H o w he sailed into a far Country. P A R T I I I , — H o w he returned to the British shore. GLASGOW: P R I N T E D FOR THE i». BOOKSELLE&& �T H E PENNY W O R T H OF WIT'S G A R L M B . P A R T I. Here is a penny worth of wit, F o r those that ever went astray? If warning they will take by me 'Twill do them good some other day. It is a touch stone of true love, Betwixt a harlot and a w i f e ; The former doth destructive prove, The latter yields the joys of life. A s in this book you may behold, Set forth by William Lane, A wealthy merchant, brave and bold, W h o did a harlot long maintain. A l t h o u g h a virtuous wife he had, Likewise a youthful daughter dear, W h i c h might have made his heart full glad, Y e t he seldom would them come near. The finest silks that could be bought, N a y , jewels, rubbies, diamonds, rings, H e to his wanton harlot bought, W i t h many other costly things. She'd still receive them with a smile W h e n he came from the roaring seas. A n d said, with words as smooth as oil, M y dearest come and take thy ease; T o my soft bed of linen fine, Thou art right welcome love, said she, B o t h I and all that e'er was mine still at thy devotion be. �3 Aye that I will thou needs not fear, And so embraced him with a kiss, Then took the wealth, and said, my dear I'll have a special care of this. To her he said, my joy, my dear, With me what venture wilt thou send, A good return thou needs not fear, I'll be thy factor and thy friend. In goods, my dear jewel, I'll send above Ten pounds, which you shall take on board, I know that unto me my love A treble gain thou wilt afford. This said, next to the wife he goes And asked her in scornful ways, What venture she will now propose To send by him for merchandise. I'll send a penny love by thee, Be sure to take great care of it, When you're in foreign part, said she, Pray buy a penny worth of wit. He put the money up secure, A n d said I'll take a special care T o lay it out you may be sure, So to his miss he did repair. And told her what he was to buy, A t which she laughed his wife to scorn; On board he went immediately, And set to sea that very morn. �riSl 4 P A R T II. N o w were they gone with merry hearts, The merchant and his jovial crew, From port to port in foreign parts T o trade as they were wont to do. A t length when he had well bestowed The cargo which was outward bound, He did his trading vessel load W i t h rich treasures which he found. A s this merchandise did vend, They turned the gems and golden ore, W h i c h crowned his labour with content, H e never was so rich before. The wanton harlot's venture then, Did run to great account likewise, For every pound she would have ten, Such was their lucky merchandise. The merchant then with laughter mov'd, Said he for wit had never sought, M y harlot's venture is approved, But of my wife's I never thought. She bid me use my utmost skill T o buy a penny-worth of wit, B u t I have kept the penny still A n d ne'er so much as thought of it. A n aged father sitting by, W h o s e venerable locks were grey, Straight made the merchant this reply, Hear me a word or two I pray. �Thy harlot in prosperity, She will embrace thee for thy g o l d ; But if in want and misery You'll nought but frowns from her behold. And ready ,to betray thy life, W h e n wretched, naked, poor, and low, But thy true hearted faithful wife Will stand by thee in well or woe. If thou will prove the truth of this, Strip off thy gaudy rich array, And so return to thy lewd miss, Declare that thou wast cast away. Thy riches buried in the main, Besides as you passed through a wood, One of your servants you had slain For which your life in danger stood ; Beseech her for to shelter thee, Declare to her you so depend, And then, alas, full soon you'll see How far she'll prove a faithful friend. Then if she frowns go to thy wife, Tell her this melancholy t h i n g ; W h o labours most to save thy life, Let her be most in thy esteem. Further the merchant then reply'd, Y o u must this single penny take, And when I have passed the ocean wide, A proof of this I mean to make. �6 P A R T III. \i : : b. • / i i 'it V With full sail to sea they went, Neptune the golden cargo bore, Thro' roaring waves, to their content A t length they reached the British, shor he merchant put on poor array, The very worst of ragged clothes, And then without the least delay He to his wanton harlot goes. He cried no man was ere so crossed As I have been, sweet heart delight, My ship and all I had is lost, Without thy aid I'm ruined quite. My loss is great, yet that's not all, One of my servants I have slain, As we did both at variance fall, Some shelter let me here obtain. 1 dare not now go near my wife Whom I have wronged for many years^ Into thy hands I'll put my life, Take pity on my melting tears Y e bloody villian, she replied, Do'nt in the least on me depend, Begone, or as I live, she cried, I for an officer will send. �7 Then to his loving wife he came, Both poor and naked, in distress, He told her all the very same, Y e t she received him ne'ertbeless. My dear, she cried, since it is so, Take comfort in thy loving wife; All that I have shall freely go To gain a pardon for thy life. I'll lodge thee in a place secure, Where 1 will daily nourish thee. Unto his virtuous wife, he said, My jewel set thy heart at rest. Behold I have no servant slain, N o r have T suffered any loss; Enough I have us to maintain, The ocean seas no more I'll cross. M y loaded ship lies near the shore, With gold and jewels richly fraught, So much I never had before, The penny-worth of wit I've bought. Once more he to his harlot goes With fourteen sailors brave and bold. All clothed in new and Costly clothes Of silk and embroider'd gold. The miss when she his Did offer him a kind But he With wrath and Did straight upbraid pomp beheld, embrace, anger filled, her to her face. �8 But she with smiles there words expressed, I have a faithful love for thee, What e'er I said was but a jest, W h y didst thou go so soon from me ? T w a s full time to go from thee, Y o u have another love in store, Whom you have furnished with my gold, And jewels which I brought on shore. l i s false, she cried, I have them all; With that the merchant straight replied L a y them before me and I shall, Be soon convinced and satisfied. Then up she ran and brought thein down, His jewels, gold, and rubbies. bright; He seized them all, and with a frown, He bad the wanton jilt good night. When he had seized the golden purse And swept up every precious stone, She cried, what! will you rob me thus ? Y e s that I will, of what's my own. Y o u wanted to betray my life But thanks to God. there's no such fear; These jewels shall adorn my wife* Henceforth your house I'll not come near. Home he returned to his sweet wife, A n d told her all that he had done; E'er since they live a happy life, And he'll to harlots no more run. �•a>p?ui o} uB9iu j siqi j o jooad y 'apuv UB900 gqi passed I U9ltM PUV ' 9 5 ^ 1 XUIIOD 9[SLLLS SLG4 1SUU1 LLOJ^ <p uoq,) :»uBqo.i9ui 9q; a a q j a n j •ui99}S9 Aqi ui ;soui 9q J9q ;9 r J <9jq iCqq. 9ABS o; ;soui sanoq^ O Q ^ rj u i q i XjoqouBpra Riqj agq '9jiA\ At# 6% oS snMoaj 9qs jt U9qx •pU3Uj p j q i m j B 9A0jd 9qs JBJ MOJ-J 99S nnoA uoos |[nj '&BJB 'uoq; p u y 'piigdgp os no A J9q o} 9JBp9Q *39Q; JGJPQS O ; JOJ J9Q XP99S9G poo^s asSurep ui ajij jnoX qoiqAV j o ^ UIBJS PBQ n o X S}UBA.I9S . r n o X j o 9 U Q 'pooA\ 1 qStioaq^ pgssed n o i SB S9pi39£[ 3 'upstu 9q; UI peunq sgqou i q £ 'Auams ^SBO ^SBM. noq; ^ q ; 9.iBp9(i 'ssuu pM9| Xtp 0} uju;9j os p u y 'Aujms qou ApnB§ A\\% dujg f siq; jo q i n j } 9q; 3Aoad {{IAY noqi j j *JAO\ •90M. JO t p A ui 99qi iCq puB^s jpAV 9jiAi injqjiBj p9;iB9q 9Uj; A\{\ puB 'aood 'pa^Bu 4p9qo;9JA\ U 3 q ^ <ajq ABJ}aq 0} XpB3.i p u y • p j o t p q i a q UIOJJ SUAUUJ ^NQ i q S n o u N, N0 X Aagsiui puB :*UBAS. ui j i ' pjoS Aq; JOJ 99q; aoB-iqraaFLIM.AQG 'X}U9dso.id ut iCqx ' ABJld J OM) ao pjOM B 9UI .IB9JJ /Ajdav siq; 4u^q0J9ui 9q$ 9pBui ;qSiB.i;§ 'Ad&S 9J9AV S5jOO[ 9jqB.L9U9A 9 S 0 q ^ 'Aq Sui^is j9q;Bj p9^B u y jo ^qSnoqi SB qonui OS J9«9u p u y jjps iuugd 9q4 ;d9>[ 9ABq j i n g '41M j o Q I J 0 A I - i u u 9 d B XNQ o j , HP[S ^soui;n Am 9sii 9ui piq gqg •^qSiioq; J9A9U J S49JTM AUI JO 'paAojddH si 9jn;u9A s^op^q Ajfc c ;qSnos A9A9U p^Q 5 M JOJ 9q preg 1 'pAOiu J9;qSriB[ q;iM U9qi ^u'eqoagui 9qx •9siptreqo.i9ui Ji9q; SBM qong 'U94 9AT3q ppoM 9qs punod ^9A9 JOjJ f9SiAi95[i[ ;unoooB O; uriJ piQ 'U9q; 9an;u3A s^opi^q uo^UUAV 9qj^ •9J0J9q qoil OS SBM J9A9U 9JJ ^U9;qod qilAi anoqsq siq pauAVoao q o i q ^ '9.10 u 9 p p S pue suigS 9q; pguaii; A^^ 4pu9A pip 9stpuBqoj9in siq; s y •punoj 9q qoiqM S9JIISB9J; q o i j q^T^W p^o{. [9SS9A SuipBJi siq pip 9 ^ 'puuoq paBM^no SBM qoiqAi oSjbo 9qj^ p9Mo;s9q p^q 9q ugqAV q;Su9[ •op O) ;UOM 9I9M X9qj SB opui; OJL s;aed u S p j o j ui ; j o d o; ; j o d UIOJJ 'M.9.IO {BIAOC siq puB ;uBqoa9ui 9 q x Xjj[9ui q^IAi 9UoS A9q; 9J9M AVO^ •II J L T O f i s b i h o t s B a t she with smiles there words expressed, I have a faithful love for thee, W h a t e'er I said was but a jest, W h y didst thou g o so soon from me ? T w a s full time to go from tliee, Y o u have another love in store, W h o m you have furnished with my gold, A n d jewels which I brought on shore. T i s false, she cried, I have them all; W i t h that the merchant straight replied L a y them before me and I shall, Be soon convinced and satisfied. Then up she ran and brought them down, His jewels, gold, and rubbies b r i g h t ; H e seized them all, and with a frown, He bad the wanton jilt good night. THE PENNY-WORTH OF W Y F & GARLAND, IN THREE PARTS. P A R T I . — S h o w i n g how a M e r c h a n t was deluded from his L a d y by a Harlot. P A R T I I . — H o w he sailed into a far Country. P A R T III,—^How he returned to the British shore. W h e n he had seized the golden purse A n d swept up every precious stone," She cried, w h a t ! will you rob me t h u s ? Y e s that I will, of what's my own. Y o u wanted to betray my life But thanks to God there's no such f e a r ; These jewels shall adorn my wife, Henceforth your house F i l not come near. H o m e he returned to his sweet wife, A n d told her all that he had done; E'er since they live a happy life, A n d he'll to harlots no more run. GLASGOW: PRINTED FOR THE t% BOOKSELLEB& �*u.iora i.i9A }Bq} B9S o ; )9S p u y 'jCpjBjpgunm 9q pjreoq UQ ; 11.100S o ; 9JIM. siq pgqSnBj 9qs q o i q ^ 'Xnq o ; SBAV 9q }BQM. 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SUUBOJ , o j q j '9.ioq oSjbo U9p{oS 9qi 9un;d9jsj ^U9AV i(9q; B9S OJ {IBS {|UJ Q^I^ 9 q ; 3[00} U9T|X 'sspj B q;iAi uiiq p9akiqui9 os p u y '.IB9J ; o u SP99U u o q i JJIAV I ^ q ) 9Ay •III \l\lYd e 7 T H E PENNY W O R T H OF WIT'S GARLAND. P A R T I. Here is a penny worth of wit, F o r those that ever went astray, If warning they will take by me 'Twill do them good some other day. It is a touch stone of true love, Betwixt a harlot and a w i f e ; The former doth destructive prove, The latter yields the joys of life. A s in this book you may behold, Set forth by William Lane, A wealthy merchant, brave and bold, W h o did a harlot long maintain. A l t h o u g h a virtuous wife he had, Likewise a youthful daughter dear, W h i c h might have made his heart full glad, Y e t he seldom would them come near. The finest silks that could be bought, N a y , jewels, rubbies, diamonds, rings, H e to his wanton harlot bought, W i t h many other costly things. She'd still receive them with a smile W h e n he came from the roaring seas. A n d said, with words as smooth as oil, M y dearest come and take thy ease; T o my soft bed of linen fine, Thou art right welcome love, said she, B o t h I and all that e'er was mine Shal 1 stil* at thy devotion be. Then to his loving wife he came, Both poor and naked, in distress, H e told her all the very same, Y e t she received him ne'ertheless. M y dear, she cried, since it is so, Take comfort in thy loving wife; A l l that I have shall freely g o T o gain a pardon for thy life. I'll lodge thee in a place secure, W h e r e I will daily nourish thee. U n t o his virtuous wife, he said, M y jewel set thy heart at rest. Behold I have no servant slain, N o r have I suffered any loss; E n o u g h I have us to maintain, The ocean seas no more I'll cross. M y loaded ship lies near the shore, With gold and jewels richly fraught, So much I never had before, The penny-worth of wit I've bought. Once more he to his harlot goes W i t h fourteen sailors brave and bold, A l l clothed in new and costly clothes Of silk and embroider'd gold. The miss when she his Did offer him a kind B u t he with wrath and Did straight upbraid pomp beheld , embrace, anger filled, her to her face. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Woodcut 081: Title-page illustration of a tall ship at sea. Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The Penny-Worth of Wit's Garland, In Three Parts. Part I.--Showing how a Merchant was deluded from his Lady by a Harlot. Part II.--How he sailed into a far Country. Part III.--How he returned to the British shore. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9923384313505154">s0564b74</a> <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9943831033505154">s0615b44</a> Extent The size or duration of the resource. 8 pages 16 cm Description An account of the resource <span>Woodcut #81: Illustration on title page of a tall ship at sea</span> 19 printed at the bottom of the title-page. 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 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 Is Referenced By A related resource that references, cites, or otherwise points to the described resource. <a title="University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks" href="http://special.lib.gla.ac.uk/chapbooks/search/">University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks&nbsp;</a> 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. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Type The nature or genre of the resource wit & humor Subject The topic of the resource Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow Travel Courtship and Marriage Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario # of Woodcuts: 1 Chapbook Date: 1841-1850 Chapbook Genre: wit & humor Chapbook Publisher - Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Outdoor Scene Transportation: ship/boat(s)