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· Ay, ay !' quo' he an fhook his head,

.' . It's e'en a lang, lang time indeed • Sin I began to nick the thread,

• Anchoke the breath :

• Folk maun do something for their bread,

An’ sae maun Death.

Sax thousand years are near hand fled
Sin' I was to the butching bred,
An' mony a scheme in vain's been laid,

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* An epidemical fever was then raging in that country.

This gentleman, Dr Hornbook, is professonally, a brother of the sovereign Order of the Ferula; but, by intuition and inspiration, is at once an Apothecary, Surgeon, and Physician.

.Ye ken Fock Hornbook i' the Clachan,

• Deil mak his king's-hood in a spleuchan ! He's grown fae weel acquaint wi' bucban +

• An' ither chaps,

• The wcans had out their fingers laghin,

. And pouk my hips.

* See here's a scythe, and there's a dart,
• They hae pierc'd mony a gallant heart;
But Doctor Hornbook, wi' his art


* And cursed skill,


Has made them baith no worth a fat,

• Damn'd haet they'll kill! 'Wi' less, I'm sure, I've hundred's llain ;

“ 'Twas but yestreen, nae farther gaen, , . I threw a noble throw at ane;


of Buchan's Domestic Medicine.

« But deil ma-care,

It just play'd dirl on the bane,

. But did nae mair:

Hornbcok was by, wi' ready art,
* And had fae fortify'd the part,
• That when I looked to my dart,

"It was fae blunt,

· Fient haet o't wad hae pierc'd the heart

• Of a kail-runt.

'I DREw my scythe in fic a fury,
I nearhand cowpit wi' my hurry,

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* Ev'r them he canna get attended,
• Altho' their face he ne'er had kend it,

• Just

in a kail-blade, and send it,

As soon's he smell's'te

* Baith their disease, and what will mend it,

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* AND then a' doctors faws and whittles,

Of a' dimensions, shapes, an' mettles, *A' kinds o' boxes, mugs, an' bottles,

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He's sure to hae ;

Their Latin names as fast he rattles

* As A B C.

• Calces o' foffils, earths, and trees;

« True Sal-marinum o' the feas ;

* The Farina of beans and pease,
• He has't in plenty ;

Aquam ' Aqua-fontis, what you please,

• He can content ye.

• FORBYE fome new, uncommon weapons,

• Urinus Spiritus of capons ;
"Or Mite-horn shavings, filings, scrapings,

• Distill’d per se ;

•Sal alkali o' Midge-tail-clippings,

• And mony mae.'

• WAES me for Johnny Ged's Hole* now,

Quoth J, . if that thae news be true !

His braw calf-ward where gowans grew,

• Saę white and bonie,

• Nae doubt they'll rive it wi' the plew;

They'll ruin Fobnie!'


* The grave-digger.

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