• Whoever would, with success, try this spell, must strictly observe these directions: Steal out, all alone, to the kiln, and, darkling, throw into the pot a clue of blue yarn: wind it in a new clue off the old one: and, towards the latter end, something will hold the thread, demand wha hauds? i. e. who holds? an answer will be returned from the kiln-pot, by naming the Christian and sirname of your future spouse. Take a candle, and go alone to a looking-glass; cat an apple before it, and some traditions say, you should comb your hair all the time; the face of your conjugal companion, to be, will be seen in the glass, as if peeping over your shoulder. It fell that night. XVI. "Our stibble-rig was Rab M'Graen, XVII. Than up gat fechtin' Jamie Fleck, An' he swoor by his conscience, That he could saw hemp-seed a peck; For it was a' but nonsense! The auld guid-man raught down the pock, An' out a handfu' gied him; Syne bad him slip frae 'mang the folk, Sometime when nae ane see'd him, An' try't that night. XVIII. He marches thro' amang the stacks, XIX. He whistl'd up Lord Lennox' march, He was sae fley'd an' eerie : Out-owre that night. XX. He roar'd a horrid murder shout, * Steal out unperceived, and sow a handful of hempseed; harrowing it with any thing you can conveniently draw after you. Repeat now and then, Hemp-seed I saw thee; hemp-seed I saw thee; and him (or her) that is to be my true-love, come after me and pou thee.' Look over your left shoulder, and you will see the appearance of the person invoked, in the attitude of pulling hemp. Some traditions say,come after me, and shaw thee,' that is, show thyself: in which case it simply appears. Others om it the harrowing, 'come after me, and harrow thee.' and say, A wanton widow Leezie was, As canty as a kittlen; But Och! that night, amang the shaws, She thro' the whins, an' by the cairn, Was bent that night. to bed in sight of a fire, and hang your wet sleeve before it to dry. Lie awake; and some time 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. Take three dishes, put clean water in one, foul water in another, leave the third empty; blindfold a This charm must likewise be performed unper-person, and lead him to the hearth where the dishes ceived, and alone. You go to the barn, and open both are ranged: he (or she) dips the left hand; if by doors, taking them off the hinges, if possible; for there chance in the clean water, the future husband or wife is danger, that the being about to appear, may shut will come to the bar of matrimony a maid; if in the the doors, and do you some mischief. Then take that foul, a widow; if in the empty dish, it foretells, with instrument used in winnowing the corn, which, in our equal certainty, no marriage at all. It is repeated country dialect, we call a wecht, and go through all the three times, and every time the arrangement of the attitudes of letting down corn against the wind. Re-dishes is altered. peat it three times; and the third time an apparition Sowens, with butter instead of milk to them, is will pass through the barn, in at the windy door, and always the Halloween Supper. out at the other, having both the figure in question, and the appearance or retinue, marking the employment, or station in life. Take an opportunity of going, unnoticed, to a Bear-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 yokefellow. You go out, one or more, for this is a social spell, to a south running spring or rivulet, where three lairds' lands meet,' and dip your left shirt sleeve, Go Monie a sair daurk we twa hae wrought, An' wi' the weary warl' fought! An' monie an anxious day, I thought We wad be beat! Yet here to crazy age we're brought, Wi' something yet. And think na, my auld, trusty servan', That now perhaps thou's less deservin', An' thy auld days may end in starvin', For my last fou, A heapit stimpart, I'll reserve ane Laid by for you. We've worn to crazy years thegither; We'll toyte about wi' ane anither; EPISTLE TO DAVIE, Than heaven-illumin'd man on brother man bestows! See stern Oppression's iron grip, Or mad Ambition's gory hand, With all the servile wretches in the rear, Whose toil upholds the glitt ring show, A creature of another kind, Some courser substance, unrefined, Placed for her lordly use thus far, thus vile, below. Where, where is Love's fond, tender throe, The powers you proudly own? Is there, beneath Love's noble name, Oh ye! who, sunk in beds of down, Stretch'd on his straw he lays himself to While thro' the rugged roof and chinky wall, Think on the dungeon's grim confine, A brother to relieve, how exquisite the I heard nae mair, for Chanticleer And hail'd the morning with a cheer, But deep this truth impressed my mind- The heart benevolent and kind WHILE winds frae aff Ben-Lomond blaw, And bar the doors wi' driving snaw, And hing us owre the ingle, I set me down to pass the time, I grudge a wee the great folk's gift, I tent less, and want less To see their cursed pride. II. ' To see how things are shar'd; But, Davie, lad, ne'er fash your head. As lang's we're hale and fier: The last o't, the warst o't, III. To lie in kilns and barns at c'en, Is, doubtless, great distress! Ev'n then sometimes we'd snatch a taste Of truest happiness. The honest heart that's free frae a' Intended fraud or guile, IV. What though, like commoners of air, But either house or hall? Yet nature's charms, the hills and woods, In days when daisies deck the ground, David Sillar, one of the club at Tarbolton, and author of a volume of poems in the Scottish dialect. ↑ Ramsay. |