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“Hornbrook was by wi' ready art,

1 “A countra laird had taen the batts, And had sae fortified the part,

| Or rome curmurring in his guts ; That when I looked to my dart,

His only son for Hornbook sets,
It was sae blunt,

And pays him well-
Fient haet o't wad hae pierc'd the heart The lad, for twa guid gimmer-pets,
Of a kail-runt.

Was laird hinsel. "I drew my scythe in sic a fury,

That's just a swatch o' Hornbook's way; I nearhand cowpit wi' my hurry,

Thus goes he on from day to day,
But yet the bauld apothecary

Thus does he poison, kill, and slay,
Withstood the shock;

An's weel paid for't;
I might as weel hae tried a quarry

Yet stops me o' my lawfu' prey
O'hard whin rock.

Wi' his curs'd dirt:
“And then a' doctor's saws and whittles, “But hark! I'll tell you of a plot,
Of a' dimensions, shapes, and metals,

Though dinna ye be speaking o't;
A’ kinds o'boxes, mugs, and bottles,

I'll nail the self-conceited sot
He's sure to hae;

As dead's a herrin':
Their Latin names as fast he rattles

Neist time we meet, I'll wad a groat,
As A B C.

He gets his fairin'!" “Calces o'fossils, earths, and trees;

But just as he began to tell, True sal-marinum o'the seas;

The auld kirk-hammer strak the bell
The farina of beans and peas,

Some wee short hour ayont the twal,
He has't in plenty;

Which rais'd us baith:
Aqua-fontis, what you please,

I took the way that pleas'd mysel',
He can content ye.

And sae did Death
“Forbye some new, uncommon weapons,
Urinus spiritus of capons;
Or mite-horn shavings, filings, scrapings,
Distillid per se;.

The Poly Fair.
Sal-alkali o'midge-tail clippings,
And mony mae.”

A robe of seeming truth and trust

Hid crafty observation ; “Waes me for Johnny Ged's Hole (31) now," And secret hung, with poison'd crust, Quo' I; “if that thae news be true,

The dirk of Defamation : His braw calf-ward whare gowans grew,

A mask that like the gorget show'd,

Dye-varying on the pigeon;
Sae white and bonny,

And for a mantle large and broad,
Nae doubt they'll rive it wi'the plew;

He wrapt him in Religion.
They'll ruin Johnny !"

HYPOCRISY A-LA-MODE. (11.) The creature grain'd an eldritch laugh,

UPON a simmer Sunday morn, And says, “ Ye need na yoke the pleugh,

When Nature's face is fair,
Kirkyards will soon be till'd eneugh,

I walked forth to view the corn,
Tak ye nae fear :
They'll a' be trench'd wi' mony a sheugh

And snuff the cauler air,

The rising sun owre Galston muirs,
In twa-three year.

Wi' glorious light was ylintin';
" Whare I kill'd ane a fair strae death, The hares were hirplin' down the furs,
By loss o' blood or want o' breath,

The lav'rocks they were chantin'
This night I'm free to tak my aith,

Fu' sweet that day.
That Hornbook's skill
Has clad a score i' their last claith,

As lightsomely I glowr'd abroad,

To see a scene sae gay,
By drap and pill.

Three hizzies, early at the road, “An honest wabster to his trade,

Cam skelpin' up the way;
Whase wife'stwa nieves were scarce well-bred, Twa had manteeles o’ dolefu' black,
Gat tippence worth to mend her head, But ane wi' lyart lining;
When it was sair;

The third, that gaed a-wee a-back,
The wife slade cannie to her bed,

Was in the fashion shining,
But ne'er spak mair.

Fu'gay that day.

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There, racer, Jess (33), and twa-three wh-res,

Are blinkin' at the entry. Here sits a raw of tittlin' jauds,

Wi' heaving breast and bare neck And there a batch o'wabster lads, Blackguarding frae Kilmarnock

For fun this day.

The twa appear'd like sisters twin,

In feature, form, and claes;
Their visage wither'd, lang, and thin,

And sour as ony slaes :
The third cam up, hap-step-an'-lowp,

As light as ony lambie,
And wi' a curchie low slid stoop,
As soon as e'er she saw me,

Fu' kind that day.
Wi' bonnet aff, quoth I, “Sweet lass,

I think ye seem to ken me;
I'm sure I've seen that bonny face,

But yet. I canna name ye.
Quo' she, and laughin' as she spak,

And taks me by the hands,
“Ye, for my sake, hae gien the feek,
Of a' the ten commands

A screed some day. "My name is Fun-your cronie dear,

The nearest friend ye liae;
And this is Superstition here,

And that's Hypocrisy.
I'm gaun to Mauchline holy fair,

To spend an hour in daffin':
Gin ye'll go there, yon runkl’d pair,
We will get famous laughini

At them thuis day."
Qucth I“With a' my heart, I'll do't;

I'll get my Sunday's sark on, And meet you on the holy spot

Faith, we'se hae fine remarkin'!”
Then I gaed hame at crowdie-time,

Aud soon I made me ready;
For roads were clad, from side to side,
Wi' monie a wearie body,

In droves that day.
Here farmers gash, in ridin' graith

Gaed hoddin by their cottars ; There, swankies young, in braw braid-claith,

Are springin' o'er the gutters.
The lasses, skelpin' barefit, thrang,

In silks and scarlets glitter;
Wi' sweet-milk cheese, in mony a whang,
And farls bak'd wi' butter,

Fu' crump that day.
When by the plate we set our nose,

Weel heaped up wi' ha'pence,
A greedy glow'r black honnet throws,

And we maun draw our tippence,
Then in we go to see the show;

On ev'ry side they're gath'rin', Some carrying dails, some chairs, and stools, And some are busy blethrin'

Right loud that day. Here stands a shed to fend the show'rs,

And screen our country gentry,

Here sum are thinkin' on their sing,

And some upo' their claes;
Ane curses feet that fyi'd his shins,

Anither sighs and prays :
On this hand sits a chosen swatch,

Wi' screw'd-up grace-proud faces;
On that a set o'chaps at watch.
Thrang winkin' on the lasses

To chairs that day. Oh happy is that man and blest!

(Nae wonder that it pride him!) Wha's ain dear lass that he likes best,

Comes clinkin' down beside him ! W' arm repos'd on the chair back,

He sweetly does compose him;
Which, by degrees, slips round her neck
An's loof upon her bosom,

Onkenn'd that day,
Now a' the congregation o'er
· Is silent expectation:
For Moodie speels the holy door,

Wi' tidings o' d-mn-tion. (34)
Should Hornie, as in ancient days,

Maug sons o' God present him, The vera sight o' Moodie's face, To's ain het hame had sent him

Wi' fright that day.
Hear how he clears the points o' faith

Wi rattlin' and wi' thumpin'!
Now meekly calm, now wild in wrath,

He's stampin' and he's jumpin'!
IIis lengthened chin, his turn'd-up snout,

His eldritch squeal and gestures, Oh, how they fire the heart devout, Like cantharidian plasters,

Ou sic a day! But hark! the tent has chang'd its voice:

There's peace and rest nae langer; For a' the real judyes rise,

They canna sit for anger.
Smith opens out his cauld harangues (35),

On practice and on morals;
And aff the godly pour in thrangs,
To gie the jars and barrels

A lift that day.
What signifies his barren shine,

Of moral powr's and reason : His English style and gesture fine

Are a clean out o' season.

Like Socrates or Antonine,

| His talk o'hell, whare devils dwell, Or some auld pagan heathen,

Our vera sauls does harrow (41)
The moral man he does define,

Wi' fright that day.
But ne'er a word o' faith in
That's right that day.

A vast, unbottom'd, boundless pit,

Fill'd fou o'lowin' brunstane, In guid time comes an antidote

Wha's ragin' flame, and scorchin' heat, Against sic poison'd nostrum ;

Vad meit the hardest whun-stane! For Peebles, frae the water-fit (36),

The half asleep start up wi' fear, Ascends the holy rostrun :

And think they hear it roarin', See, up he's got the word o' God,

When presently it does appear And meek and mim has view'd it,

'Twas but some neebor snorin' While Common Sense (37) has ta'en the

Asleep that day.
road,
And aff, and up the Cowgate (38), 'Twad be owre long a tale, to tell
Fast, fast, that day.

How monie stories past,

And how they crowded to the yill Wee Miller (39) neist the guard relieves,

When they were a' dismist : And orthodoxy raibles,

How drink yaed round, in cogs and caurs, Tho' in his heart he weel believes,

Amang the furms and benches : And thinks it auld wives' fables;

And cheese and bread, frae women's laps, But, faith! the birkie wants a manse,

Was dealt about in lunches,
So, cannily he hums them;

And dauds that day.
Altho' his carnal wit and sense
Like halflins-ways o'ercomes him

In comes a gaucie, gash guidwife,
At times that day.

And sits down by the tire,
Now butt and ben the change-house fills,

Syne draws her kebbuck and her knife;

The lasses they are shyer.
Wi' yill-caup commentators;

The auld guidmen, about the grace,
Here's crying out for bakes and gills,
And there the pint-stoup clatters;

Frae side to side they bother,
While thick and thrang, and loud and

and Till some ane by his bonnet lays,

And yi’es theni't like a tether, lang, Wi' logic and wi' Scripture,

Fa’lang that day. They raise a din, that, in the end,

Waesuck! for him that gets nae lass, Is like to breed a rupture

Or lusses that hae nathing!
O' wrath that day.

Sma' need has he to say a grace,
Leeze me on drink! it gies us mair

Or melvie his braw claithing! Than either school or college:

Oh wives be mindfu' ance yoursel It kindles wit, it waukens lair,

How bonny lads ye wanted, It pangs us fou o' knowledge.

And dipua, for a kebbuck-heel, Be't whisky gill, or penny wheep,

Let lasses be affronted Or ony stronger potion,

On sic a day! It never fails, on drinking deep,

Now Clinkumbell, wi' rattlin' tow,
To pittle up our notion

Begins to jow and croon;
By night or day.

Some swagger hame the best they dow, The lads and lasses, blythely bent

Some wait the afternoon. To mind baith saul and body,

At slaps the billies halt a blink, Sit round the table weel content,

Till lassess trip their shoon: And steer about the toddy.

Wi' faith and hope, and love and drink, On this ane's dress, and that ane's leuk, They're a' in famous tune They're making observations;

For crack that day. While some are cozie i' the neuk,

How monie hearts this day converts
And formin'assignations

O'sinners and o'lasses !
To nieet some day.

Their hearts o' stane, gin night, are gano,
But now the I d's ain trumpet touts, As saft as ony flesh is.
Till a' the hills are rairin',

There's some are fou o' love divine; And echoes back return the shouts--

There's some are fou' o' brandy; Black Russell (40) is na sparin':

And many jobs that day begin His piercing words, like Highlan' swords, May end in houghimagandy, Divide the joints and marrow;

Some ither day.

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