. Reminiscences of Glasgow and the West of Scotland . air civil, Than at puir Major thus to level, Thy direful greed;But cruel and unfeeding deevil, Yeve laid him dead. Besides to him, yeve done the sameUnto his mate and Dougal Graham,And monie ithers, I could name, Yeve sent wi speed,For ever to their last, lang, hame, Amang the dead. I dinna mean your ears to diddle,In savin, Majors twa girr striddleSurpassd great Paganinis fiddle, The Italian weed;But now, the muse hell nae mair meddle,The dormant dead. Sic powers as his were very rare, For no to be a man o lair, But now, alack, yell see na
. Reminiscences of Glasgow and the West of Scotland . air civil, Than at puir Major thus to level, Thy direful greed;But cruel and unfeeding deevil, Yeve laid him dead. Besides to him, yeve done the sameUnto his mate and Dougal Graham,And monie ithers, I could name, Yeve sent wi speed,For ever to their last, lang, hame, Amang the dead. I dinna mean your ears to diddle,In savin, Majors twa girr striddleSurpassd great Paganinis fiddle, The Italian weed;But now, the muse hell nae mair meddle,The dormant dead. Sic powers as his were very rare, For no to be a man o lair, But now, alack, yell see nae mair Him raise his head,To say wi zeal the Camlachie prayer— Waes me, hes dead. It to my heart gies muckle pain,Sic worth on paper thus to stain,In life he was surpassed by nane, Now a tak heed,His like yell never see again. Since Majors dead. !U OLD REMINISCENCES OF GLASGOW That scourge which aff did Major carry,Soon landed him at Charons ferry,To dwell for ever wi his Mary, Angelic fair!Glide kens, they are whereer they tarry, A splendid *; *~* *~~,*j*< ^ „ „ HIRSTLING KATE AND THE WEST OF SCOTLAND. 215 CHAPTER XVII. HIESTLING KATE. Happy trifles ! can you bearSighs of fondness for the fair ? Old Sony. This engaging creature was in her prime about the year1812. So says the worthy, kind-hearted, well-informedvenerable gentleman under whose auspices we have beeninspired with some of these old Glasgow stories. We wishwe had his authority to publish his name, but he modestlyand peremptorily denies the request. We must, therefore,proceed on our own hook. Be it known, then, that inthose ancient days the Trongate was the fashionablepromenade, and there, accordingly, Kate was sure to bedaily seen. But no lady of her time, or probably our own,had such peculiar attractions. Her dress and gait, hermanners and conversation, were equally former, like Josephs coat, as we read in the life ofJosephus, was of many colours; and certes, very con-siderable ingenu
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