« AnteriorContinuar »
favourite diversion of shooting. He kills the birds, draws thei figures, and describes them.
WATTY AND MEG; OR, THE WIFE REFORMED
Keen the frosty winds war blawin',
Deep the snaw had wreath'd the ploughs,
Daunert down to Mungo Blue's.
Wi' Pate Tamson o' the Hill,
And sae mony nei'bours roun’,
Ithers quietly chewt their cude.
A' the rest a racket hel',
Drank his health and Meg's in ane;
Pledg'd him wi' a dreary grane.
"But it's past redemption now,
"When I marry'd Maggy Howe!
"Try'd wi' troubles no that sma';
"Laid the cape-stane o' them a'.
"Wi' the weans she ne'er can gree; "Whan she's tir'd wi' perfect skelpin', "Then she flees like fire on me.
* Sawing Timber.
"See ye, Mungo! when she'll clash on "Wi' her everlasting clack, "Whiles I've had my nieve, in passion, "Liftet up to break her back!” 'O! for gudesake, keep frae cuffets!"
Mungo shook his head and said, "Weel I ken what sort o' life it's;
'Ken ye, Watty, how I did? 'After Bess and I war kippl'd,
'Soon she grew like ony bear, Brak' my shins, and, when I tippl'd, 'Harl❜d out my very hair! "For a wee I quietly knuckl'd,
'But whan naething wad prevail, Up my claes and cash I buckl'd,
Bess! for ever fare ye weel.
'Haith I gart her change her tune:
'Try this, Watty.-Whan ye see her
Echo'd now out thro' the roof,
Nail'd the Dryster's wauket loof.
Shaking han's, and joking queer,
Dartet thro' him like a knife,
In came Watty's scaulin' wife. Nesty, gude-for-naething being! "O ye snuffy drucken sow! "Bringin' wife an' weans to ruin,
"Drinkin' here wi' sic a crew? "Devil nor your legs war broken!
"Sic a life nae flesh endures"Toilin' like a slave, to sloken
"You, ye dyvor, and your 'hores! "Rise! ye drucken beast o' Bethel ! "Drink's your night and day's desire:
"Is a mortal vext like me!"
Mum'lin' startet at his back. Soon as e'er the morning peepet, Up raise Watty, waefu' chiel, Kiss'd his weanies while they sleepet, Wakent Meg, and saught fareweel. Farewell, Meg!-And, O! may Heav'n "Keep you ay within his care: "Watty's heart ye've lang been grievin', "Now he'll never fash you mair. "Happy cou'd I been beside you,
"Happy baith at morn and e'en: "A' the ills did e'er betide you,
"Watty ay turn'd out your frien'.
"But ye ever like to see me
"Vext and sighin', late and air."Fareweel, Meg! I've sworn to lea' thee; "So thou'll never see me mair." Meg a' sabbin', sae to lose him,
Sic a change had never wist, Held his han close to her bosom,
While her heart was like to burst. "O my Watty, will ye lea' me,
"Frien'less, helpless, to despair! "O! for this ae time forgi'e me: "Never will I vex you mair."
Aye, ye've aft said that, and broken "A' your vows ten times a-weak. "No, no, Meg! See!-there's a token "Glitt'ring on my bonnet cheek. "Owre the seas I march this morning,
"Listet, testet, sworn an' a', "Forc'd by your confounded girning; "Fareweel, Meg. for I'm awa." Then poor Maggy's tears and clamour Gusht afresh, and louder grew, While the weans, wi' mournful' yaumer Round their sabbin' mother flew. "Thro' the yirth I'll waunor wi' you"Stay, O Watty! stay at hame; "Here upo' my knees I'll gi'e you
"Ony vow ye like to name.
"See your poor young lammies pleadin', "Will ye gang an' break our heart? "No a house to put our head in!
"No a frien' to take our part." Ilka word came like a bullet,
Watty's heart begoud to shake; On a kist he laid his wallet,
Dightet baith his een and spake. "If ance mair I cou'd by writing,
"Lea' the sodgers and stay still, "Wad you swear to drap you flyting?" "Yes, O Watty! yes, I will!"
'Then," quo' Watty," mind, be honest: Ay to keep your temper strive; "Gin ye break this dreadfu' promise, "Never mair expect to thrive. "Marget Howe! this hour ye solemn "Swear by every thing that's gude
"Ne'er again your spouse to scaul' him,
"Ne'er put drucken to my name-
"Never gloom when I come hame: "That ye'll ne'er like Bessy Miller,
"Kick my shins, or rug my hair
"This upo' your saul ye swear?
Maggy syne, because he prest her,
Aff gaed bonnet, claes, and shoon;
FROM THE UNIVERSAL MAGAZINE,
The Life of the Late Arthur Murphy, Esq. Written by himself.
WE are informed by Tacitus, that Biography was at an early period of Rome greatly in vogue; and such was the wish of good and upright men to be known to posterity, that many thought fit to be their own historians, persuaded that in speaking of themselves, they should display an honest confidence in their moral conduct, not a spirit of arrogance or vain glory. He mentions
* The interruptions which this narrative received are apparent from the inequality of the composition. I did not think, however, that it would become me to make any alterations for the sake merely of giving the style a literary uniformity. It is written, in some parts, without any artificial transition, in the first and third persons, to something like an occasional confusion of the sense. But as the important purpose of ascertaining the facts which it relates, is completely answered by it, unless where it appeared to want perspicuity, I have considered its very imperfections as sacred;-and I trust that the reader will sympathise with me in the venerating sentiment which has preserved the last pages of Mr. Murphy's pen, and the last exertions of his mind, from being corrected by me.