Somebody that
understood
Scotch, asking him what he
was, he said such-a-one's herd in Alloway, and by some means or other
getting home again, he lived long to tell the world the wondrous tale.
was, he said such-a-one's herd in Alloway, and by some means or other
getting home again, he lived long to tell the world the wondrous tale.
Robert Forst
The farmer stopping his
horse to observe them a little, could plainly descry the faces of many
old women of his acquaintance and neighbourhood. How the gentleman was
dressed tradition does not say; but that the ladies were all in their
smocks: and one of them happening unluckily to have a smock which was
considerably too short to answer all the purpose of that piece of
dress, our farmer was so tickled, that he involuntarily burst out,
with a loud laugh, "Weel luppen, Maggy wi' the short sark! " and
recollecting himself, instantly spurred his horse to the top of his
speed. I need not mention the universally known fact, that no
diabolical power can pursue you beyond the middle of a running stream.
Lucky it was for the poor farmer that the river Doon was so near, for
notwithstanding the speed of his horse, which was a good one, against
he reached the middle of the arch of the bridge, and consequently the
middle of the stream, the pursuing, vengeful hags, were so close at
big heels, that one of them actually sprung to seize him; but it was
too late, nothing was on her side of the stream, but the horse's tail,
which immediately gave way at her infernal grip, as if blasted by a
stroke of lightning; but the farmer was beyond her reach. However, the
unsightly, tailless condition of the vigorous steed was, to the last
hour of the noble creature's life, an awful warning to the Carrick
farmers, not to stay too late in Ayr markets.
The last relation I shall give, though equally true, is not so well
identified as the two former, with regard to the scene; but as the
best authorities give it for Alloway, I shall relate it.
On a summer's evening, about the time that nature puts on her sables
to mourn the expiry of the cheerful day, a shepherd boy, belonging to
a farmer in the immediate neighbourhood of Alloway kirk, had just
folded his charge, and was returning home. As he passed the kirk, in
the adjoining field, he fell in with a crew of men and women, who were
busy pulling stems of the plant Ragwort. He observed that as each
person pulled a Ragwort, he or she got astride of it, and called out,
"Up horsie! " on which the Ragwort flew off, like Pegasus, through the
air with its rider. The foolish boy likewise pulled his Ragwort, and
cried with the rest, "Up horsie! " and, strange to tell, away he flew
with the company. The first stage at which the cavalcade stopt, was a
merchant's wine-cellar in Bordeaux, where, without saying by your
leave, they quaffed away at the best the cellar could afford, until
the morning, foe to the imps and works of darkness, threatened to
throw light on the matter, and frightened them from their carousals.
The poor shepherd lad, being equally a stranger to the scene and the
liquor, heedlessly got himself drunk; and when the rest took horse, he
fell asleep, and was found so next day by some of the people belonging
to the merchant.
Somebody that understood Scotch, asking him what he
was, he said such-a-one's herd in Alloway, and by some means or other
getting home again, he lived long to tell the world the wondrous tale.
I am, &c. ,
R. B.
* * * * *
CCXXXI.
TO MR. S. CLARKE,
EDINBURGH.
[This introduction of Clarke, the musician, to the M'Murdo's of
Drumlanrig, brought to two of the ladies the choicest honours of the
muse. ]
_July 1, 1792. _
Mr. Burns begs leave to present his most respectful compliments to Mr.
Clarke. --Mr. B. some time ago did himself the honour of writing to Mr.
horse to observe them a little, could plainly descry the faces of many
old women of his acquaintance and neighbourhood. How the gentleman was
dressed tradition does not say; but that the ladies were all in their
smocks: and one of them happening unluckily to have a smock which was
considerably too short to answer all the purpose of that piece of
dress, our farmer was so tickled, that he involuntarily burst out,
with a loud laugh, "Weel luppen, Maggy wi' the short sark! " and
recollecting himself, instantly spurred his horse to the top of his
speed. I need not mention the universally known fact, that no
diabolical power can pursue you beyond the middle of a running stream.
Lucky it was for the poor farmer that the river Doon was so near, for
notwithstanding the speed of his horse, which was a good one, against
he reached the middle of the arch of the bridge, and consequently the
middle of the stream, the pursuing, vengeful hags, were so close at
big heels, that one of them actually sprung to seize him; but it was
too late, nothing was on her side of the stream, but the horse's tail,
which immediately gave way at her infernal grip, as if blasted by a
stroke of lightning; but the farmer was beyond her reach. However, the
unsightly, tailless condition of the vigorous steed was, to the last
hour of the noble creature's life, an awful warning to the Carrick
farmers, not to stay too late in Ayr markets.
The last relation I shall give, though equally true, is not so well
identified as the two former, with regard to the scene; but as the
best authorities give it for Alloway, I shall relate it.
On a summer's evening, about the time that nature puts on her sables
to mourn the expiry of the cheerful day, a shepherd boy, belonging to
a farmer in the immediate neighbourhood of Alloway kirk, had just
folded his charge, and was returning home. As he passed the kirk, in
the adjoining field, he fell in with a crew of men and women, who were
busy pulling stems of the plant Ragwort. He observed that as each
person pulled a Ragwort, he or she got astride of it, and called out,
"Up horsie! " on which the Ragwort flew off, like Pegasus, through the
air with its rider. The foolish boy likewise pulled his Ragwort, and
cried with the rest, "Up horsie! " and, strange to tell, away he flew
with the company. The first stage at which the cavalcade stopt, was a
merchant's wine-cellar in Bordeaux, where, without saying by your
leave, they quaffed away at the best the cellar could afford, until
the morning, foe to the imps and works of darkness, threatened to
throw light on the matter, and frightened them from their carousals.
The poor shepherd lad, being equally a stranger to the scene and the
liquor, heedlessly got himself drunk; and when the rest took horse, he
fell asleep, and was found so next day by some of the people belonging
to the merchant.
Somebody that understood Scotch, asking him what he
was, he said such-a-one's herd in Alloway, and by some means or other
getting home again, he lived long to tell the world the wondrous tale.
I am, &c. ,
R. B.
* * * * *
CCXXXI.
TO MR. S. CLARKE,
EDINBURGH.
[This introduction of Clarke, the musician, to the M'Murdo's of
Drumlanrig, brought to two of the ladies the choicest honours of the
muse. ]
_July 1, 1792. _
Mr. Burns begs leave to present his most respectful compliments to Mr.
Clarke. --Mr. B. some time ago did himself the honour of writing to Mr.
