Wee Jenny to her Graunie says,
'Will ye go wi' me, Graunie?
'I'll eat the apple * at the glass,
'I gat frae uncle Johnie :'
She fuff't her pipe wi' sic a lunt,
In wrath she was sae vap'rin,
She notic't na, an aizle brunt
Her braw new worset apron
Out thro' that night.

'Ye little Skelpie-limmer's face!
'I daur you try sic sportin,
'As seek the foul Thief ony place,
'For him to spae your fortune?
'Nae doubt but ye may get a sight!
'Great cause ye hae to fear it;
'For monie a ane has gotten a fright,
'An' liv'd an' di'd deleeret,

'On sic a night.

'Ae Hairst afore the Sherra-moor, 'I mind't as weel's yestreen,

'I was a gilpey then, I'm sure

'I was na past fyfteen :

'The simmer had been cauld an' wat,
'An' stuff was unco' green;
'An' ay a rantin kirn we gat,
'An' just on Halloween
'It fell that night.

'Our stibble-rig was Rab M'Graen,
'A clever, sturdy fallow;
'His sin gat Eppie Sim wi' wean,
'That liv'd in Achmacalla;
'He gat hemp-seed, † I mind it weel,

An' he made unco light o't;
'But monie a day was by himsel,
'He was sae sairly frighted
"That vera night.'

Then up gat fechtin Jamie Fleck,

An' he swoor by his conscience, That he could saw hemp-seed a peck; For it was a' but nonsense :

The auld guidman raught down the pock,
An' out a handfu' gied him;
Syne bad him slip frae 'mang the folk,
Sometime when nae ane see'd him,
An' try't that night.

He marches thro' amang the stacks,
Tho' he was something sturtin;
The graip he for a harrow taks,
An' haurls at his curpin :
An' ev'ry now an' then, he says,

'Hemp-seed, I saw thee,
'An' her that is to be my lass,
'Come after me an' draw thee
'As fast this night.'

He whistl'd up Lord Lenox' march,
To keep his courage cheary ;
Altho' his hair began to arch,

He was sae fley'd an' eerie :
Till presently he hears a squeak,
An' then a grane an' gruntle;
He by his shouther gae a keek,
An' tumbl'd wi' a wintle

Out-owre that night.

He roar'd a horrid murder-shout,
In dreadfu' desperation!
An' young an' auld come rinnin out,
An' hear the sad narration:
He swoor 'twas hilchin Jean M'Craw,
Or crouchie Merran Humphie,
Till stop! she trotted thro' them a';
An' wha was it but Grumphie
Asteer that night!

Meg fain wad to the barn gaen

To win three wechts o' naething; But for to meet the Deil her lane,

She pat but little faith in :

She gies the Herd a pickle nits,

And twa red-cheekit apples,
To watch, while for the barn she sets,
In hopes to see Tam Kipples
That vera night.

* Take a candle, and go alone to a looking-glass; eat an apple before it, and some traditions say, you should comb your hair all the time; the face of your conjugal companion, to be, will be seen in the glass, as if peeping over your shoulder. R. B.

+ Steal out unperceived, and sow a handful of hemp-seed; harrowing it with anything you can conveniently draw after you. Repeat now and then, 'Hemp-seed, I saw thee, hemp-seed, I saw thee; and him (or her) that is to be my true-love, come after me and pou thee.' Look over your left shoulder, and you will see the appearance of the person invoked, in the attitude of pulling hemp. Some traditions say, 'come after me, and shaw thee,' that is, show thyself: in which case it simply appears. Others omit the harrowing, and say, 'come after me, and harrow thee.' R. B. This charm must likewise be performed unperceived, and alone. You go to the barn, and

She turns the key, wi' cannie thraw,
An' owre the threshold ventures;
But first on Sawnie gies a ca',

Syne bauldly in she enters;
A ratton rattl'd up the wa',

An' she cry'd, Lord preserve her!
An' ran thro' midden-hole an' a',
An' pray'd wi' zeal an' fervour,
Fu' fast that night.

They hoy't out Will, wi' sair advice;

They hecht him some fine braw ane;
It chanc'd the stack he faddom't thrice *
Was timmer-propt for thrawin:
He taks a swirlie, auld moss-oak,

For some black, grousome Carlin ;
An' loot a winze, an' drew a stroke,
Till skin in blypes cam haurlin

Aff's nieves that night.

A wanton widow Leezie was,
As cantie as a kittlin;

But Och! that night, amang the shaws,
She gat a fearfu' settlin!
She thro' the whins, an' by the cairn,
An' owre the hill gaed scrievin,
Whare three lairds' lands met at a burn, t
To dip her left sark-sleeve in,

Was bent that night.

Whyles owre a linn the burnie plays,
As thro' the glen it wimpl't;
Whyles round a rocky scar it strays;
Whyles in a wiel it dimpl't;

Whyles glitter'd to the nightly rays,
Wi' bickering, dancing dazzle;
Whyles cookit underneath the braes,
Below the spreading hazel,
Unseen that night.

Amang the brachens on the brae,
Between her an' the moon,
The Deil, or else an outler Quey,
Gat up an' gae a croon :

Poor Leezie's heart maist lap the hool;
Near lav'rock height she jumpit,
But mist a fit, an' in the pool
Out-owre the lugs she plumpit,

Wi' a plunge that night.

In order, on the clean hearth-stane,
The luggies three ‡ are ranged;
And ev'ry time great care is taen,
To see them duly changed:
Auld uncle John, wha wedlock's joys
Sin' Mar's-year did desire,
Because he gat the toom dish thrice,
He heav'd them on the fire

In wrath that night.

Wi' merry sangs, and friendly cracks,
I wat they did na weary;
And unco tales, an' funnie jokes,

Their sports were cheap and cheary ;
Till butter'd So'ns, § wi' fragrant lunt,
Set a' their gabs a-steerin;
Syne, wi' a social glass o' strunt,
They parted aff careerin

Fu' blythe that night.

open both doors, taking them off the hinges, if possible; for there is danger, that the being, about to appear, may shut the doors, and do you some mischief. Then take that instrument used in winnowing the corn, which, in our country dialect, we call a wecht; and go through all the attitudes of letting down corn against the wind. Repeat it three times; and the third time an apparition will pass through the barn, in at the windy door, and out at the other, having both the figure in question, and the appearance or retinue, marking the employment or station in life. R. B. * Take an opportunity of going, unnoticed, to a Bear-stack, and fathom it three times round. The last fathom of the last time, you will catch in your arms the appearance of your future conjugal yoke-fellow. R. B.

You go out, one or more (for this is a social spell), to a south running spring or rivulet, where 'three lairds' lands meet,' and dip your left shirt sleeve. Go to bed in sight of a fire, and hang your wet sleeve before it to dry. Lie awake; and some time near midnight, an apparition, having the exact figure of the grand object in question, will come and turn the sleeve, as if to dry the other side of it. R. B.

:

Take three dishes; put clean water in one, foul water in another, leave the third empty : blindfold a person, and lead him to the hearth where the dishes are ranged; he (or she) dips the left hand if by chance in the clean water, the future husband or wife will come to the bar of matrimony, a maid: if in the foul, a widow if in the empty dish, it foretells, with equal certainty, no marriage at all. It is repeated three times; and every time the arrangement of the dishes is altered. R. B.

§ Sowens, with butter instead of milk to them, is always the Halloween Supper. R. B.

THE JOLLY BEGGARS

A CANTATA.

RECITATIVO.

TUNE- Soldier's Joy.'

I AM a son of Mars, who have been in many wars,
And show my cuts and scars wherever I come;
This here was for a wench, and that other in a trench,
When welcoming the French at the sound of the drum.

My 'prentiship I pass'd where my leader breath'd his last,
When the bloody die was cast on the heights of Abram;
I serv'd out my trade when the gallant game was play'd,
And the Morro low was laid at the sound of the drum.

I lastly was with Curtis, among the floating batt'ries,
And there I left for witness an arm and a limb:
Yet let my country need me, with Flliot to head me,
I'd clatter on my stumps at the sound of a drum.

And now, tho' I must beg, with a wooden arm and leg,
And many a tatter'd rag hanging over my bum,
I'm as happy with my wallet, my bottle, and my callet,
As when I us'd in scarlet to follow a drum.

What tho' with hoary locks, I must stand the winter shocks,
Beneath the woods and rocks, oftentimes for a home;
When the t'other bag I sell, and the t'other bottle tell,
I could meet a troop of hell at the sound of the drum.