The race may, after all, turn out
Not to be very good;

Then, for a shadeless, empty; show,
I'd lodgings leave, and food:

And, this delicious meat still more,
This mutton, to enhance,

I'd 'change, with it, a certainty,
For what is but a chance :

Now, as one bird in hand's, at least,
Worth two before they're catch't;
"Twould take two chances of good sport,
Before this leg was match't.

Besides, we've races such as these,
From what Tom's daily told,
And just as tempting, nearer home,
With any man I'll hold !

For the last time, you shall set out,
Then, Tom, for Leith to-morrow.
Next day the wedder will be done;
I say't with grief, and sorrow:

For, our coarse mutton, for a year,
I'll not let near my mouth.

:

By Monday I'll have eat this up;

And then I'll turn me south.

On Sunday last 'twas we came here;
One stage but from the race;
Where I've been stopt, while I can eat,
I'll ne'er forget the place:

The carline's head-the carline's loups-
These charming boils, and roasts-
The mutton o' the Carlops Hill-

Shall ever be my toasts!

Before that John had well begun

This story long to tell,

The beggars saw nor he'd divide,
Nor even James himsell:

For, always, James, when levelling,
Looked up towards the rich;
But never thought of looking down,
To beggars with the itch.

They both had time enough to plan,

As well as execute;

For many a glass, and snuff, John took,

Before that he got through't:

So, like their fishwife friends in France,

Since none would be so civil

As give them all they sought, themselves, They'd take it, through the devil.

Whilst loyal John his story told,
One eased him of the price;
And t'other got even James's cow
Off with him in a trice.—

Now, when the dealers raise, and look't,

Their gills, and stories done,

They found, with grief, when 'twas too late, Both price, and cow, were gone!

Quoth John to James, what think you now?
Is't this you call equality?—
Quoth James to John, it surely is;
Though 'twont do in reality.-

Or James got back to Edinburgh town,
Without, or cash, or cow,

He'd got his fill of Sans Culottes,
And levelling I trow.

The requisitions that were made,

At ance, opened baith his een;

And sent him hame a wiser man,

That day, frae CARLOPS GREEN.

NO. VI.

POPULAR POEMS,

ON THE SCENARY OF THE GENTLE SHEPHERD,

Connected with the Illustrations.

The following lines, in the form of a letter, were sent into New-Hall House, by one of the servants, in summer 1802.

VERSES, extempore, to Mr BROWN of New Hall.

SIR,

THIS will let you understand

That Jamie Thomson is at hand.

O'er frae Kinleith, in which he dwells,

On t'ither side o' Pentland Hills.

Nae ither business he has wi' ye,
But comes on purpose for to see ye;
And ask your leave, that he may gang
And view the Place where ALLAN sang;

Sym's House; and Glaud's snug Onstead see;
Auld Mause's Cruve, and Blasted Tree;
The Lin, and Pool o' cauler water,
Whar Meg, and Jenny, used to squater,
In HABBY'S How, breast-deep, in May,
Skreened round wi' birks upon the brae.

Now, if this favour ye will grant,
And gi'e the license that I want,
I here do promise-nay I sweer!
I wunna wrang y'r guids nor gier :
Sik as the dingand down a dike;
Breaking your timmer; or the like.
O' them I'll tak as muckle care
As if they were my ain, and mair
O' a' your orders being observant,
As it becomes

Your humble servant

JAMIE THOMSON.

It is easy to see that this JAMES THOMSON has no resemblance to the celebrated poet of Ednam, but in name, and attachment to the muses. His forte is humour. He is a "canty callan," of the school of Allan; and is as eccentric, and droll, in his look, and manner, as in his genius. He is a common weaver at Kinleith, a hamlet, on a brow of the northern declivity of the Pentland Hills, between the waters of