A ratton rattled up the wa', And she cried, "L-, preserve her!" They hoy't out Will, wi' sair advice; urged They hecht him some fine braw ane; promise1 It chanced, the stack he faddom't thrice,2 Was timmer-propt for thrawin'; timber-twisting He taks a swirly auld moss oak For some black, grousome carlin; And loot a winze, and drew a stroke, knotty loathsome oath Till skin in blypes cam haurlin' shrods-peeling Aff's nieves that night. hands A wanton widow Leezie was, As canty as a kittlin; merry - - kitten But, och! that night, amang the shaws, She got a fearfu' settlin'! woods She through the whins, and by the cairn, gorse And owre the hill gaed scrieven, scrambling Where three lairds' lands meet at a burn,3 To dip her left sark-sleeve in, Was bent that night. 1 A gutter at the bottom of a dung-hill. 2 Take an opportunity of going, unnoticed, to a bean-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. - B. 8 You go out, one or more, for this is a social spell, to a Whyles owre a linn the burnie plays, Whyles in a wiel it dimp; Wi' bickering, dancing dazzle; fa.l wheeled cliff eddy racing suddenly Whyles cookit underneath the braes, vanished Below the spreading hazel Unseen that night. Amang the brackens, on the brae, Between her and the moon, The deil, or else an outler quey, Gat up and gae a croon: fern unhoused cow Poor Leezie's heart maist lap the hool; But mist a fit, and in the pool Out-owre the lugs she plumpit, Wi' a plunge that night. In order, on the clean hearth-stane, moan case lark foot ears dishes 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 sometime 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. B. 1 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) lips the left hand-if by chance in the clean water, the fu And every time great care is ta'en He heaved them on the fire In wrath that night. Wi' merry sangs, and friendly cracks, And unco tales, and funny jokes, Their sports were cheap and cheery; They parted aff careerin' Fu' blithe that night. empty smoke mouths spirits ture 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. B. 1 The year 1715, when the Earl of Mar raised an insurrection in Scotland. 2 Sowens, [a dish made of the seeds of oat-neal soured] with butter instead of milk to them, is always the Halloween supper. B. 8 The most of the ceremonies appropriate to Halloween, including all those of an adventurous character, are now disused. Meetings of young people still take place on that evening, both in country and town, but their frolics are usualy limited to ducking for apples in tubs of water- a ceremony overlooked by Burns-the lottery of the dishes, and NOTE TO HALLOWEEN. Mr. John Mayne, a comparatively obscure follower of the Scottish Muses, had attempted a poem on the subject of Halloween, forming twelve stanzas. It appeared in Ruddiman's Weekly Magazine, November 1780, and therefore may have been seen by Burns. That the Ayrshire poet actually saw and improved upon this composition can scarcely be doubted, [?] after reading the following specimens: "Ranged round a bleezing ingle-side, "Placed at their head the guidwife sits, Bogles hae gart folk tyne their wits made-lose "A' things prepared in order due, Some i' the kiln-pat thraw a clue, At whilk, bedeen, Their sweethearts at the far-end pu', At Halloween. forthwith pulling cabbage-stalks. The other ceremonies are discountenanced as more superstitious than is desirable, and somewhat dangerous. But 'twere a langsome tale to tell The Ance gates o' ilka charm and spell; Plump in a filthy peat-pot fell, At Halloween. manner "Half-felled wi' fear, and drookit weel, killed-drenched He frae the mire dought hardly spiel; But frae that time the silly chiel Did never grien could climb long To cast his cantrips wi' the Deil, spells SECOND EPISTLE TO DAVIE, AULD NEIBOR, A BROTHER POET. I'm three times doubly o'er your debtor, For my puir, silly, rhymin' clatter Some less maun sai. Hale be your heart, hale be your fiddle; sensible serve |