Chapter XVIII: Part II: 104 (1)

Leper’s Landlady became very harsh to his Master, and very often abused him exceeding sore with both tongue and hands, and always chided upon him for more money, and to have all the money in her keeping, which Leper was very sorry for. It so happened on a day, after the Taylor had got a hearty drubbing with tongue and tongs, that he pouch’d his thimble, and was going to make a Queen of her? when she saw that, she cried out, ‘O will you leave me, a poor tender, dying woman?’ But Leper knowing the cause of her cursed ill-nature better than his Master did, advised him to take her on a fine day, like a mile out of town, and give her a walk, and he would stay at home, and study a remedy for her disorder.----Away they goes, but as she was always complaining of her health, and that she was very weak, she cry’d out frequently, ‘O it is a crying sin to take a woman in my condition out o’er a door.’ During their absence, Leper goes and searches her bed, and below the bolster he gets a bottle of rare whisky, of which he takes a hearty pull, and then pisses in it to make it up again, gets a halfpenny worth of snuff and puts it in also, shakes all together, and so sets it in its place again. Home they came again, and she was exceedingly distressed as a woman could be, and cry’d out, ‘It was a horrid thing to take her out of a house.’ The taylor seeing her so bad, thought she would have died, and ran as fast as he could and brought her a dram, but she in her hypocrisy pretended she could not take it, and called him to help her to bed. Into her bed he lays her, and he was not well gone until she fell to her bottle, taking two or three hearty gluts, then she roars out murder, for she was poisoned, she was poisoned. Bocking and purging began, and the neighbours are called in, she leaves her blood on poor Leper, and tells how such an honest woman brought her ae bottle as another was done, and the murdering lown had stole it, and put in a bottle of poison instead of it. Leper took to his heels, but was pursued and carried before a Justice of the Peace, where he told what he had done, which made the Justice laugh heartily at the joke, and the Taylor’s wife was well purged both from her feigned sickness, laziness, and cursed ill nature, for always when she began to curl her nose for the future, the Taylor had no more to say, ‘But, Maggy, Maggy, mind the bottle.’

Leper was working with a master taylor in Glasgow, who hungered his men, and one morning just as the breakfast was set on the table, in comes a gentleman to try on a suit of clothes, the Master being obliged to rise, desired the lads to say the grace themselves, every one refused it, and put it to his neighbour, till Leper took it, and said as follows, with an audible voice, that the stranger gentleman might overhear him; “Oh, hoch, we are a parcel of poor beastly bodies, and we’re as beastly guided, if we do not work we get nothing to eat, yet we are always eating and always fretting, fidging and half fasting is like to be our fortune, scartings and scrapings are the most of our mouthfu’s; we would fain thank thee for thy fulness if ever it were so, but the rest of our benefactors are not worth the acknowledging, hech hey, Amen,” which made the gentleman laugh till he held his sides, and gave Leper half a crown to drink.

Leper was not long done with his apprenticeship till he set up for himself, and got a journeyman and an apprentice, was coming into very good business, and had he restrained his roguish tricks might have done very well. He and his lads being employed to work in a farmer’s house, where the goodwife was a great miser, and not very cleanly in making ready of meat, and snivel’d greatly when she spoke. In the morning when she went to make their pottage, she made a fashion of washing the pot, which to appearance seemed to him to be among the first pots that had been made; then she set it down before the fire till she went to the well, in which time Leper looking into it, sees two great holes in the bottom stopped with clouts, he takes up his goose, and holds it as high as his head, then lets it fall into the pot, which knocked out the bottom of it; presently in comes the wife with the water, and pours it into the pot, which set the fire-side all in a dam, for still as she poured it in, it ran out, the wife being short-sighted, or what they call sand-blind, looks into the pot, holds up both her hands and cries, “The losh preserve me, sirs, for the grip atween the twa holes is broken;” says Leper the pot was old enough, but do you not ken that taylor’s pottage is heavier than other mens: indeed lad, said she, I believe it is sae, but they say ye’re a Warlock, it’s Wednesday a’ the warld o’er,[105] and a woful Wednesday to me indeed, my pot might have lasted me this fifty years, a sae wad it een.[106] This sport diverted Leper and his lads thro’ the day, and after supper, knowing he was to get but some dirty bed, as the cows and the people lived all in one apartment,[107] he chused rather to go home; and knowing the moon was to rise a little after midnight, they sat long by the fire, told them many a fine story to drive away the time, and bade the wife go and make their bed to see how it might be; to save candle she made it in the dark, directly on the floor behind where they sat, shaking down two bottles of straw: a calf which chanced to be lying on that spot, and which the wife did not notice, was covered up with the straw, and the bed clothes spread over all. The most of the family being gone to bed, the wife told them several times to go to bed also; but Leper knowing of the calf, said, I’ll make my bed come to me, on which the wife began to pray for herself, and all that was in the house; so up he gets his elwand, and gives a stroke on the bed, which caused the brute to get up, and not seeing where to go, it fell a crying, and turning round, which set the whole cows in the whole house a roaring out murder in their own tongue, the wife ran to the bed above the goodman, and the whole family cried out, not knowing what it was, but Leper and his two lads whipp’d off the blankets off the brute, and it ran in among the rest unperceived, then Leper lighted a candle, and all of them got out of bed, paid Leper for his work, and more if he pleased, and begged him to go away, and take the devil with him. So home he went, but never was employed by that wife more.

Leper had a deal of the best customers, both in town and country; so one time he had occasion to go to the parish of Inchinan to make a wedding suit for a gentleman; after they were finished, he asked drink-money to his lads, which the gentleman refused: Leper resolved to be even with him, so goes to the hay-loft where the groom slept, and takes his stockings, breeches and jacket, sews them altogether, and stuffs them full of hay, makes a head, puts a rope about the neck, and hangs it on a tree opposite to the Laird’s window, then goes to the Laird and tells him that his groom had hanged himself, and that if he would open his window, he would see him hanging; the laird struck with astonishment knew not what to do; Leper advises him to bury him privately, the Laird said, he had not a servant he could trust, so begged of Leper to do it, Leper refuses, till the Laird promised him a load of meal: then Leper pulls all the hay out of the groom’s clothes, goes and gets his load of meal and sends it to Glasgow, then goes to the groom, and says hastily, lad, thy master is wanting thee; so the lad in a haste runs to see what his master wanted, the Laird no sooner saw him opening the door, than he cry’d out, Avoid thee Satan, avoid thee Satan; the lad says, What’s the matter, Sir? What’s the matter? Did not you hang yourself this morning? Lord forbid! said the lad: the laird says, If thou be an earthly creature, take that tankard and drink; which he did: Then says he to his Master, Leper called me up and said, you wanted me in all haste: Ho, ho, says the Laird, I find out the story now, If I had Leper I would run my sword through him: But Leper before that was away for Glasgow with his meal.

Leper was in use to give his lads their Sunday’s supper, which obliged him to stay from the Kirk in the afternoon, he having neither wife nor servant-maid; so on Sunday afternoon, as he was at home cooking his pot, John Muckle-cheeks and James Puff-and-Blaw, two Civileers, having more zeal than knowledge, came upon him and said, What’s the matter Sir, you go not to the kirk? Leper replied, I am reading my book, and cooking my pot, which I think is the work of necessity. Then says the one to the other, Don’t answer the graceless fellow, we’ll make him appear before his betters, so they took the kail-pot and puts a staff thro’ the bowls, and bears it to the Clerk’s chamber.[108] Leper who was never at a loss for invention, goes to the Principal of the College his house, no body being at home but a lass roasting a leg of mutton; Leper says, My dear, will you go and bring a pint of ale, and I’ll turn the spit ’till you come back, the lass was no sooner gone, than he runs away with the leg of mutton, which served his lads and him for their supper. When the Principal came home, he was neither to bin nor ha’d, he was so angry; so on Monday he goes and makes complaint to the Lord Provost, who sends two officers for Leper, who came immediately. My Lord asked him, How he dared to take away the Principal’s mutton? Leper replied. How came your Civileers to take away my kail-pot? I am sure, there is less sin in making a pot-full of kail, than roasting a leg of mutton, Law-makers should not be law-breakers, so I demand justice on the Civileers; the Provost asked him, what justice he would have? says he, Make them carry the pot back again; as for the Principal, a leg of mutton won’t make him and me fall out: so they were forced to carry the pot back, and Leper caused the boys to huzza after them to their disgrace.

There was a Barber which always plagued Leper, calling him a Prick-the-Louse; Leper resolved to be even with him, so he goes and buys three sheep-heads, and sends for the Barber and told him, that there were three Southland gentlemen come to his house, who wanted to be shaved, and he assured him he would receive sixpence for each one of them, this good news made the shaver send for a dram; Leper was still praising them for quiet good natured gentlemen, so Leper takes him to the bed where the sheep-heads lay covered, and desired him to waken them, for they would not be angry, or say an ill word to him, the Barber lifts the covering and sees the sheep-heads, runs out cursing and swearing, and Leper crying after him, Sheep-head Barber.

The Barber resolved to be revenged on Leper, so when he was shaving Mess John, he tells him that Leper was the drunkenest fellow in the parish; so Mess John warns him to the session, Leper comes and says, What do you want with me, Sir? Come away Leper, says Mess John, I hear a bad report of you; Me, Sir! I am sure they were not my friends that told you that. Indeed, I am informed you are a great drunkard; I a drunkard! you have not a soberer man in your parish: Stay Sir, I’ll tell you how I lead my life: In the morning I take a choppin of ale, and a bit of bread, that I call my morning: for breakfast I generally take a herring and a choppin of ale, for I cannot sup brose like my lads; the herring makes me dry, so at eleven hours I take a pint; at dinner another pint; at four afternoon my comrades and I join, sometimes we are a pint and sometimes three choppins; at supper I take a bite of bread and cheese and a pint, and so I go to bed: Mess John says, It’s extravagant Sir, it’s excessive drinking, I allow you the one half of it for a quarter of a year; says Leper, I’ll try it, Sir, and come back and tell you. At the end of the quarter he draws out his account, and goes to Mess John, who was sitting with his elders in the session-house, and says, Sir, I have a demand on you: On me, Sir! Yes, on you, Sir; Don’t you remember you allowed me so much drink for a quarter of a year, and I want the money; Am I to pay your reckoning, Sir? You allowed it, and if you won’t pay it, I’ll take you before the Provost: The Elders advised him to pay it or he would be affronted: so Leper got the money: When he was at the door, he says, Sir, will ye stand another quarter? Get away, says Mess John, and don’t trouble me. Leper says, I’m sure you may, for I was always two-pence to your penny.

THE END OF THE SECOND PART.

_THE GRAND SOLEMNITY OF THE TAYLOR’S FUNERAL._

[The edition here followed was published in the year 1816,
without any mention of the place of issue. It contains also the
two parts of _Leper the Taylor_. The full title is:--‘Fun upon
Fun, or, the Comical Merry Tricks of Leper the Taylor. In two
Parts. To which are added, The Grand Solemnity of the Taylor’s
Funeral, who lay Nine Nights on his own Shop-Board, together with
his Last Will.’ It has been collated with an edition published
in 1820, and with another, apparently of English origin, without
date. This chap-book, as has been explained in the Introduction,
Vol. I., p. 48, is believed to be the third part of _Leper the
Taylor_; and M‘Vean has given his sanction to the conjecture by
entering it in his list of _Opera Dugaldi_. Upon a close study
of the work, however, and after a careful comparison of it with
the two parts of _Leper the Taylor_, the editor cannot avoid the
suspicion that what appears in the following pages is not the
_bona-fide_ work of Dugald Graham. That suspicion is founded not
only upon the almost entire absence of Scotticisms, but also
upon the mention of some customs which were certainly not common
in Scotland, such, for instance, as the presentation of a sprig
of rosemary to each person at a funeral, and the corpse arrest.
These were more prevalent in England. While that is so, the fact
that the work forms a quite consistent conclusion to the other
two parts, and that Dugald did not always run in the same groove,
prevents the editor from pressing this suspicion to an extreme;
and he contents himself with marking the authorship as doubtful.]

THE GRAND SOLEMNITY OF THE TAYLOR’S FUNERAL.

Leper[109] in his life-time desired, That all those who came to attend his funeral, might be handsomely entertained with a half-penny-roll, and a pint of ale;[110] in memory of the many breakfasts he had made in his life-time: And furthermore desired, That those who were his former[111] relations and chief mourners, instead of a mourning ring, might be presented with a Taylor’s Thimble, in memory of his own trade, and round the rim to have this motto engraved:

_Be sure you Feed Hell._

Round the room hung divers remnants of black-cloth, of the Taylor’s own cabbaging, for he was very honest that way, and never cabbaged but a quarter[112] out of a yard. At the four corners of the room stood four woolen-drapers, lamenting the loss of so good a customer, with each of them a white wand in his hand, just a yard long and a parchment label hanging on their shoulders, with this motto:

_The Taylor has finished his work,_
_And now he is gone to receive his wages._

At the head of the Taylor’s coffin, stood the goose triumphant, the cabbage blazoned, and the cucumber argent. On the lid of his coffin was engraven, on a brass plate, this applicable motto:

_Hell is beneath me._

At the foot of the coffin was the sheers pendent, the bodkin rampant, and the thimble enclosed in three ermins.

When the Corpse was conveyed down stairs, each person was served decently round with a leaf of red cabbage, instead of a sprig of rosemary. Then the Corpse was hoisted on the shoulders of six piece-brokers, having each of them this motto:

_The Taylor steals, we buy._

The pall was supported by those who sold stay-tape, buckram, and canvas.

The Corpse was followed down Cloth-fair by thirty-six master-taylors, each having a yard in his right-hand, with a parchment streamer at the end of it, with this motto:

_We Taylors by our art and trade_
_Do often mend what God hath made._

Next followed twenty-four[113] woolen-drapers, two-by-two, bearing on their breasts this motto:

_We deal in wool, but can’t forbear_
_To deal, alas! some times in hair._

Then followed the like number of button-makers, wringing their hands with this motto:

_Man’s but a Button, by my soul!_
_The very Grave’s a Button-hole._

After these, followed a vast number of city ricketty hopper-arsed beaux, who had been padded up, and made into a complete gentlemen, by the deceased limb-trimmer, drying their watery eyes, with cambrick hankerchiefs, and having this motto engraved on their watch cases:

_He’s gone who made us human shapes,_
_And now we must again turn apes._

But to conclude the procession: Last of all, followed a numerous croud of journeymen taylors, who were all slip-shoed, their stockings about their heels, their hats off, a skein of thread hung carelessly about their necks; and their shirt collars were open, that they might have liberty to disturb their bosom friends. On their left sleeve was a cushion, whereon stuck abundance of Spanish and Whitchapel needles. The tails of their wigs were matted like horses’ manes, just as if they had come off the shop-board from work. On their left shoulders each had a long strip of parchment, whereon was written this motto:

_The lice bite us, ’tis not deny’d,_ }
_We bite our masters when employ’d;_ }
_And they bite all the world beside._ }

At the bottom of Cloth-fair, the Corpse was arrested at the suit of an old herb-woman for elevenpence halfpenny,[114] which had been due a long time to the hag, for cabbages and cucumbers, which the deceased had in his life-time: However the journeymen-taylors manfully released the Corpse,[115] and afterwards marched on in ample procession to the house of one Ned Kemp, an honest piece-broker, where there was a spacious grave dug, between a large cabbage and a cucumber plant.

The FUNERAL SERMON was preached by Obadiah Backstitch, and the words of the text were these:

_A remnant of all shall be saved._[116]

After which, the journeymen taylors were admitted into the house,[117] and each of them served with a halfpenny-roll, and a pint of ale, and so went weeping home, for the loss of so good a master.

THE TAYLOR’S LAST WILL.

I will and bequeath unto Simon Whipstitch,[118] my needle and thimble; unto Peter Niggle, my sheers and bodkin; and unto Mrs. Mary Laycock[118] is my Pincushion, stuck full of needles and pins, to which I sewed a watch-chain, key, and seal with which I used to strut about like a crow in a gutter.[119]

_Gae canty book and win a name;_
_Nae lyrics ev’er shall ding thee:_
_Hope large esteem, and lasting fame,_
_For Leper’s name will raise thee._[120]

FINIS.

_THE HISTORY OF HAVEREL WIVES._

[The title of the edition reprinted here is:--‘The Folly of
Witless Women Displayed; or, the History of Haverel Wives:
Written by Humphray Clinker the Clashing Wives Clerk. Being a
Comical Conference between Maggy and Janet his two old Aunties.
Glasgow: Printed for the Company of Flying Stationers, in Town
and Country, MDCCLXXXI.’ It has been collated with an undated
edition issued by Morren of Edinburgh, and one published by the
Robertsons of Glasgow in 1807; and also with a reprint by D.
Webster & Son, Lothian Street, Edinburgh. This last named firm,
considering the reprinting of old Scottish popular tales ‘in a
more correct and neat form’ than hitherto to be a desideratum,
issued this chap-book, along with _Janet Clinker’s Oration_, as
the first number of what they called the ‘Caledonian Classics
of the Common People.’ _John Cheap_ was announced as the second
number. It should be stated that the 1781 edition here followed
is exceptional in respect that the _History of the Haverel Wives_
is given as a separate and distinct publication. It is an 8 pp.
12mo. In all the other editions that have come under the editor’s
notice this chap-book and _Janet Clinker’s Oration_ are issued
together.]

THE HISTORY OF HAVEREL WIVES, &c.

It is a certain old saying, That where women are conveen’d in crouds there can be but little silence; and some have acknowledged that it was a great bondage for them to hold their peace in the church: and where there is much talk by ignorant speakers, it is diverting for persons of understanding to hear them. Therefore we have furnished the public with a small collection of old wives noted sayings and wonders, which they relate happened in their own time, also what has been told them by their forefathers.

Two old wives (Maggy, and Janet) at their rocks, began their cracks as follows:

Janet. A dear Maggy, an how auld will ye be now, o’ it’s lang since I kend you.

Maggy. Indeed Janet that’s what nae body kens, for my father and mither had sae mony o’ us, they ne’er counted how auld ane o’ us was, they minded ay wha o’ us was born first, and wha was neist ane anither, and that was a’ that e’er we sought to ken about it; but I ha’e mind o’ the mirk Munonday.[121]

Jan. Hout, tout, woman, the mirk Munonday, I hae mind since there was nae Munondays at a’, and the Sabbath days was nae com’d in fashion, there was a day they ca’d Sunday came anes o’ the ouk for it, we kend ay whan it came, for my father cow’d ay his beard whan the bell rang, and then every body ran to the kirk it had ony thing ado, an it were to buy saut or shune, for the chapman chiels set up a’ their creims at the kirk-door, an the lasses wad a gotten keeking glasses, red snudes, needles, prins, elshin irons, gemlets, brown bread and black saep to buy, forby sweety wives things, and rattless for restless little anes; the men wad a bought pints o’ ale, an a gotten a whang o’ gude cheese to chow a’ the time a drinking o’t, hout, tout ay, they were braw markets on the Sundays i’ the time o’ Paepery,[122] we had nae ministers than but priests, Mess Johns, Black Friers, and White Friers, Monks, Abbots, and Bishops, they had nae wives, yet the best o’ them wad a spoken baudy language, and a kiss’d the lasses, fikle fyking bodies they ware, unko ill to please, they wad a baith curs’d fouk and bless’d them, just as ye pay’d them; a deed they were unco greedy o’ the penny, and pray’d ay to the dead fouk, and gard the living pay them for’t, and although they had play’d the loon wi’ a poor hizey she durst na speak o’t for her very life, for they cou’d gi’ ony body o’er to the de’il when they liket: They did not gar fouks learn to read and pray like our new ministers, but thump on your breast, strake your fingers o’er aboon your nose, tell your beads and rin bare-fit thro’ amang hard stanes, and cauld sna’.

Mag. A hech woman, an wad they a had carnal dealings wi’ the women, and they sae good and haly.

Jan. Hout ye daft woman, do ye think their goodness gelded them tho’ they had nae wives; there was a great sort o’ them it they ca’d cardonels, that ay when twa young bodies was married they bute to hae the first night o’ the bride.[123]

Mag. A wae worth them filthy hureing dogs, if I wadna’ a libbet them mysel, I wonder that the gentle fouks and lairds lote them do the like o’ that.

Jan. A dear woman the gentle fouks and the lairds keepet ay in wi’ them, for they said they had the command o’ the de’il and the dead fouk, and the gentles durst na cast out wi’ them, for they got a’ their sins pardon’d for the less siller.

Mag. A dear woman that was unko like, the de’il wad get nae body then but the poor fouk, and them that had nae siller.

Jan. A well a wat that was true, for an they pay’d the priest well, the de’il durst na middle wi’ them.

Mag. A wow woman, a what’s come o’ them a’ now, am sure the like o’ thae fouks it had sae meikle power, needed neither die nor yet be sick: they wad live a’ their days.

Jan. A wat well did they, for the maist o’ them is dead and rotten, and the rest o’ them gade awa’ to Italy, where the auld Pape their father, the de’il, the witches, brownies and faries dwal,[124] and then we gat anither sort o’ gospel fouks it they ca’d curits,[125] fine sort o’ dainty honest foulks they war, but gay and greedy, they did na’ like sculdudery wark, but said na meikle against it, for a hantle o’ bits a callans wad a gotten twa or three bastards before they wad a gotten breeks; they beit to hae their tithes of every thing that grew, mony a time my father wist they wad take the tithes of his hemp too, an it were to hang themsels, they were ay warst whare a poor man or wife died, altho’ they left weans fatherless and mitherless, a deed they wad a sent their bellman, and wi’ his lang prelatic fingers he wad a harled the upper pair o’ blankets aff o’ the poor things bed, for some rent that they gard fouks pay for dying, a sae did they e’en, and yet they keepit a hantle o’ bra haly days, and days o’ meikle meat, Fastrens-e’en and Yule days, when we gat our wames fou o’ fat brose, and a sippet Yule sowens till our sarks had been like to rive, and after that a eaten roasted cheese and white puddings well spiced, O bra times for the guts, well I wat every body might live than that had ony thing to live on.

Mag. But dear Janet ye’er bra an lang o’ the memory, do ye mind o’ the waefu blast, when the foul thief was raging in the air, and the de’il dang doun a’ the kail yard dykes cutted the corn stacks, tirr’d the houses and blew giddy Wille’s wig in the wall, they said it was some young minister it had rais’d the de’il, and for want o’ a cock, a cat, or some unkirsen’d creature to gi’ him, they could na’ get laid again, an he brake the bridle slipped his head an ran awa frae them.[126]

Jan. A deed woman I heard tell o’ that, and how wood Willie M‘Neel met him on the staps in the mids o’ the water, an shot him o’er, and thought to drown him, but he gade doun the water like a meikle branded bill roaring, a’ burning fire; but I hae mind the first time it the de’il came to this kintrey was on a Sunday, I was a wi’ bit gaun lassie my father and a’ the men fouk was at the kirk, the ware twa o’ them, a humeld ane an a horn’d ane, a goodman de’il, and a goodwife de’il as we took them to be, we ran a’ into the house, and my mither barr’d the door and hunted the dogs at the byre hole, thinking the de’il wou’d rin frae the dogs, but, na, na, they got up on their tae end like twa auld men, they were a rugh lang hair like a pyet horse, wi’ lang bairds aneath their chin, and the meikle horn’d de’il box’d the dogs in at the hole agen, we ran a’ ben the house and grat, but our Jock wha wis a little gabby gaun laddock, cry’d ay, mither, mither, what is the de’il seeking here, he’ll be wanting to tak a’ the auld wives an cats to mak witches o’ them,[127] I true whan my gran mither heard that, she gat up and ran ben to the spence, and crap in the bear meal barrel to hide hersel frae the de’il, and curr’d there ’till the kirk skaild, a deed she was sae fear’d, she made her burn in the barrel; and what was’t true ye after a’ but a tupe and a ewe of the highland gaits, it the laird had gotten to gie the lady milk, but mony a day we leugh at the twa de’ils.

Mag. But dear woman, what an a body is that de’il, it ev’ry body is sae fear’d for him, is’t na him they ca’ auld nick, what fore do they ca’ him auld nick?

Jan. A dead woman I dinna ken what like a body he is, but they say he’s a’ black, and they ca’ him auld nick, because he’s aulder nor Adam, and Adam was the first man in the warld, and they say the de’il will never die, nor yet be sick, nor yet tak sair een.

Mag. A wow Janet but ye’re a witty creature, but can ye tell me what way the blackamoors is made, some fouk says they’re a’ dipped in cats blood and burnt bear strae, but I’m ay thinking the litster doucks them in amang the broe that they lit the black claith wi’, and then sells them to the lairds and gentle folks to flee their bairns wi’, or dis the gentles eat them when they’re dead think ye.[128]

Jan. Hout awa daft creature, the blackamoors is fouk just like oursel, but only they hae a black skin on them, did ye never see black sheep and white sheep, black horse and white horse, ye think they’re a’ de’ils because the de’il’s black: I thought mysel lang syne, they were made for the penny, and sell’d the dearer o’ the black skin.

Mag. But Janet did ye ever see the de’il, I wad fain ken what like he is, some says he’s like a bill, a bear or an auld beggar man.

Jan. Indeed I never saw sae muckle as the de’il a’ my days, but I’ve heard the ministers flyting and misca’ing him, and whan they said a’ that they cou’d say o’ him, they ca’d him an ill spirit, and a great liar, mony a ane has war names than a’ that yet.[129]

Mag. But do you think there is ony de’ils but ane, every body’s speaking an crying on him, ane couldna answer them a’.

Jan. A deed they say there’s black anes and white anes o’ them, humel anes, and horn’d anes, the very witches is haf de’ils whan they’re living, and hail de’ils when they’re dead; the brownies is haf dogs haf de’ils, a’ rugh but the mouth, seeks na claise, ae man’s meat ’ill sair them, and they’ll work ten mens work in ae night, forby hob-goblins fairies and elfs, that shoots fouks beasts to dead, an no a hole to be seen in the skin o’ them;[130] hard na ye tell o’ the twa Highland wives, how the tane cry’d oh, on, oh on, Shenet my cows shot, houp, poup, co’ she, an wha shot her, a de’d it was the de’il, oh hough, oh hough, Shenet we’ll a’ be kill’d whan the de’il has gotten a gun.

Mag. A sweet be wi’ us woman, is nit an unco thing they dinna a’ flee on the minister, whan he flytes and misca’s them sae, do ye think they hear him?

Jan. A doubtless but they hear and sees too, they’re neither blind nor bleer-ey’d, but ay whan ye speak o’ them, name the day cry it’s wansday thro’ a’ the warld and there’s nae fear o’ you.[131]

Mag. But what de ye think o’ our minister, is he a good man think ye?

Jan. Indeed I think he’s a gay gabby body, but he has twa fauts, and his wife has three, he’s unko greedy o’ siller, and he’s ay preaching down pride, and up charity, and yet he’s that fou o’ pride himsel, that he has gotten a glass window on ev’ry side o’ his nose, and his een is as clear as twa clocks to luk to, he has twa gigglet gilliegaukies o’ dochters, comes into the kirk wi’ their cobletehow mutches frizel’d up as braid’s their hips, and clear things like starns about their necks, and at ev’ry lug a walloping white thing hanging like a snotter at a bubbly wean’s nose, syne about their necks, a bit thin claith like a mouse web and their twa bits o’ paps playing ay niddity nod, shining through it like twa yearning bags, shame fa’ them and their fligmagaries baith, for I get nae good o’ the preaching looking at them; and syne a’ the dirty sherney hought hizies in the parish maun hae the like or lang gae; but an I ware to preach, sic pride sudna hae baith peace and property in my parish, I wou’d point out my very finger to them in the kirk, and name them baith name and sirname, and say there sits sherney Meg o’ the mill, stumpy May o’ the moss, sniveling Kate wi’ her hodle-makenster coat, they came into the kirk bobbing their hin quarters like three water wag tails, shaking their heads like a hunder pund horse, smacking their lips and hauding their mouth like May puddocks; and what shall I compare them to, but painted Jezebels; the whore of Babylon or Rachel the harlot, with a’ their gaudy decoying colours, high taps, and spread glittering tails, whan they come sailing into the house of prayer, as it were a house o’ dancing and debaushery, go, go, ye painted pisweips to fairs and weddings, and there display your proud banners of pride which ye are puffed up with, it is the very spirit o’ the devil, and unbecoming o’ the house o’ prayer: But if these gillygaukies shou’d come into the kirk with their heels up and their heads down, our mess John is become like ane o’ the dogs of Egypt, he’ll no move his tongue, and I believe he darna for Clipock his wife; wha’s element is to banter a’ the poor beggars from her door, nane can stand her but the tinkler wives, and she’s ay whinging about charity, but it’s to hersel, she widna pity the cripple on the blind’s back, but bids gae hame to their ain parish filthy beggar dirt,[132] she casts a’ her cauld paritch and kail to the cocks and hens, kicks the poor colly dogs out at the door, ca’s them filthy useless brutes, because they canna lay eggs, like hens eggs, she’s ay flyting on her lasses, hungers her servant lad, eats cocks and hens hersel, and gars the poor minister eat saut herrin.

Mag. A well I wat then I wish he may not turn a drucken body, for herring maks fouk ay dry, but well I wat Janet ye hae tell’d their faults on baith the sides, an I hae ae great faut to our minister yet, and tho’ I ware dead and rotten the night afore the morn I’ll neither forgi’ him nor yet forget him, a what he said to me, that I sud be ta’en and douked for offerin to marry agen, a woman at my age; an auld man, said he, ought to marry some kindly body to keep him clean in his auld age, but an auld woman (said he) that can wash a dud sark to themsels needs nae men; and now no Janet, I am no to ca’ very auld although I be stricken in years, I dinna ken my ain age, being kirsen’d in the time o’ Paepery;[133] I hae the penny, tho’ bair o’ flesh and blood, has four good teeth before and well willin gums in the backside, I canna gang far without a staff, an yet I wad as fain be married as whan I was fifteen year auld, O woman! but a man in the bed is an usefu body, they hae a sweet breath, and natural heat to keep a body warm; but an our minister ware an auld wife, he wad ken what the want of a bit man is as well as I, and a’ this began about wanton Wat the town taylor that promis’d to tak me again sic a time or tell me what for, mony a pickle well butter’d kail bleds I gi’d him, held out frae my ain wame and stappit in a his, he said he wad do as muckle to me again, but he has na don’t fause loun carle it he was, cheated me out o’ sax pund and twa sarks and then gar’d me mak a fool o’ mysel whan the laird’s duket[134] was biggit and made a’ white to gar the dows come, he said an my window ware as white they wad come to me too, and I like a poor fool took a basin fu’ o’ good bear meal and made it drammock and whitened a my window wi’t, but the never a dow came near hand me the mair o’t, but a’ the town dogs came pyking and licking it at night and day, I was plagued wi’ them till a gude shure came and wisht awa agen, the laird an every body came to look and laugh at it.[135]

Jan. But Maggy an ye be a mind to marry ye maun snod yoursel better up, cast awa your staff, singe your whiskers wi’ a candle or fir stick, stand straight up like a rash kekle, and looky cantylike whan the carles is gaun by, tak a mouthfu’ o’ good meat, and a drap dram in the mornin will keep the dirt aff your face and raise the red in your cheek, ye see the hens turns ay red lugget or they begin to lay: a body that wants a bit man will use mony a shift for ane, I ken how I did mysel whan I was fourteen lang year a widow, and thought never to gotten ane, I feed our John, whan he was a saft silly docus callan to ca’ the pleugh, and keepit him three years till he turn’d a wally whincer and fain wad I had him, but he widna speak o’t to me, but ae day we was in the house our lane, an I ties a gude hard stane knot on the strings o’ my toy beneath my chin, an fykes wi’t awee, then says, O Johnny my man look an ye can louse this knot wi’ your teeth, he lays a hand on every shouther and louses the knot, and I gripes him by the twa lugs and gies him a kiss, and saes poor man Johnny thou has a sweet breath, thou needsna want a bit kiss o’ me whan thou likes lad, I true that culli’d him hither ay the mair, ha, ha, thou has nae art woman.

Enters Humphray Clinker, hearing a’ that past, perswades his aunt Maggy that no man would marry such as her, for she looked like a picture of death riding upon hunger’s back, a rickle of banes row’d up in a runkly skin, had wasted her body with water lythocks into a scrufe of skin and bane for want of teeth to chow bread for the nourishment of her body, and that he was com’d on purpose to write her testament or latter will, that it was a lightness in her brain before death; therefore she ought to go to bed and die directly,[136] which she accordingly did[137] by taking thought of what was said to her, the priest being sent for came and discoursed with her, but still she keeping her purse in her hand, which he observed, desired she would give it to her friends or she died, to which she would answer by her sooth that she wad not, for she wad tak it wi’ her, for she had heard every body say they were the better o’ the penny wi’ them, gang whare they like, and so died supposed to be an hundred and six years old.

Humphray’s aunt Janet is yet alive an has made an oration in praise of the old women, and on the pride of the young.

FINIS.

_JANET CLINKER’S ORATION._

[_Janet Clinker’s Oration_ is commonly found printed along with
_The History of Haverel Wives_, and in the chap-book from which
the text in the following pages are taken, this is the case. The
full title in this case is:--‘An Oration on the Virtues of the
Old Women, and the Pride of the Young: with a Direction for Young
Men, what sort of Women to take, and for Women what sort of Men
to Marry. Dictated by Janet Clinker, and written by Humphrey
Clinker, the Clashing Wives’ Clerk. Glasgow: Printed by J. &
M. Robertson, Saltmarket, 1807.’ It has been collated with the
editions mentioned in the Introduction to these volumes: together
with the reprint published in 1820 by Webster & Son, Edinburgh,
referred to in the prefatory note to the _History of the Haverel
Wives_.]

AN ORATION ON THE VIRTUES OF THE OLD WOMEN, AND THE PRIDE OF THE YOUNG.

The madness of this unmuzzled age has driven me to mountains of thoughts, and a continual meditation: It is enough to make an auld wife rin red-wood, and drive a body beyond the halter’s-end of ill-nature, to see what I see, and here what I hear: Therefore the hinges of my anger are broke, and the bands of my good and mild nature are burst in two, the door of civility is laid quite open, plain speech and mild admonition is of none effect; nothing must be used now but thunder-bolts of reproach tartly trimm’d up in a tantalizing stile, roughly redd up and manufactured thro’ an auld Matron’s mouth, who is indeed but frail in the teeth, but will squeeze surprizingly with her auld gums, until her very chaft-blades crack in the crushing of your vice.

I shall branch out my discourse into four heads.

First, What I have seen, and been witness to.

Secondly, What I now see, and am witness to.

Thirdly, What I have heard, does hear, and cannot help; I mean the difference between the old women and the young.

Fourthly, Conclude with an advice to young men and young women, how to avoid the buying of Janet Juniper’s stinking butter,[138] which will have a rotten rift on their stomach as long as they live.[139]

First, The first thing then, I see and observe is, that a wheen daft giddy-headed, cock-nosed, juniper nebbed mothers, bring up a wheen sky-racket dancing daughters, a’ bred up to be ladies, without so much as the breadth of their lufe of land, it’s an admiration to me, whare the lairds are a’ to come frae that’s to be coupled to them; work, na, na, my bairn manna work, she’s to be a lady, they ca’ her Miss, I maun hae her lugs bor’d says auld Numps the mither; thus the poor pet is brought up like a mitherless lamb, or a parrot in a cage; they learn naething but prick and sew, and fling their feet when the fidle plays, so they become a parcel of yellow-faced female-taylors, unequal matches for countrymen, Flanders-babbies, brought up in a box, and must be carried in a basket; knows nothing but pinching-poverty, hunger and pride; can neither milk kye, muck a byre, card, spin, nor yet keep a cow from a corn-rigg; the most of such are as blind penny-worths, as buying pigs in pocks, and ought only to be matched with Tacket-makers, Tree-trimmers, and Male-taylors, that they may be male and female agreeable in trade, since their piper fac’d fingers are not for hard labour; yet they might also pass on a pinch for a black Sutor’s wife, for the stitching of white seams round the mouth of a lady’s shoe; or, with Barbers or Bakers they might be buckled, because of their muslin-mouth and pinch-beck speeches, when barm is scant, they can blow up their bread with fair wind, and when the razor is rough, can trim their chafts with a fair tale, oil their peruke with their white lips, and powder the beau’s pow with a French-puff; they are well versed in all the science of flattery, musical tunes, horn-pipes, and country-dances, though perfect in none but the reel of Gamon.

Yet these are they the fickle farmer fixes his fancy upon; a bundle of clouts, a skeleton of bones, Maggy and the Much, like twa fir-sticks and a pickle tow, neither for his plate nor his plow; very unproper plenishing, neither for his profit nor her pleasure, to plout her hands through Hawkey’s[140] caff-cog, is a hateful hardship for Mammy’s Pet, and will hack a’ her hands. All this I have seen and heard, and been witness to; but my pen being a goose-quill, cannot expose their names nor places of abode, but warns the working-men out of their way.

Secondly, I see another sort, who can work, and maun work till they be married, and become mistresses themselves; but as the young man receives them, the thrift leaves them; before that, they wrought as for a wager, they span as for a premium, busked as for a brag, scour’d their din skins as a wauker does worsted blankets, kept as mim in the mouth as a minister’s wife, comely as Diana, chaste as Susanna, yet the whole of their toil is the trimming of their rigging, though their hulls be everlastingly in a leaking condition; their backs and their bellies are box’d about with the fins of a big fish,[141] six petticoats, a gown and apron, besides a side sark down to the ankle-banes; ah! what monstrous rags are here, what a cloth is consumed for a covering to one pair of buttocks! I leave it to the judgement of any ten taylors in town, if 30 pairs of mens’ breeches may not be cut, from a little above the easing of Bessy’s bum, and this makes her a motherly-like woman, as sturdy a fabric as ever strade to market or mill.

But when she’s married she turns a madam, her mistress did not work much, and why should she! Her mother tell’d ay she wad be a lady, but cou’d never show where her lands lay; but when money is all spent, credit broken, and conduct out of keeping, a wheen babling bubly bairns, crying piece minny, parich minny, the witless waster[142] is at her wit’s-end. Work now or want, and do not say that the world has war’d you; but Lofty-Nodle, your giddy-headed-mother has led you astray, by learning you to be a lady, before ye was fit to be a servant-lass, by teaching you laziness instead of hard labour, by giving you such a high conceit of yourself, that no body thinks any thing of you now, and you may judge yourself to be one of those, that wise people call Littleworth; but after all, my Dear Dirty-face, when you begin the warld again, be perfectly rich before you be gentle, work hard for what you gain, and you’ll ken better how to guide it, for pride is an unperfect fortune, and a ludicrous life will not last long.

Another sort I see, who has got more silver than sense, more gold than good nature, more muslins and means than good manners, tho’ a sack can hold their siller, six houses and a half cannot contain their ambitious desires. Fortunatus’s wonderful purse[143] would fail in fetching the fourth part of their worldly wants, and the children imitate their mothers, chattering like hungry cranes, crying still I want, I want, ever craving, willfully wanting, till all be brought to a doleful dish of desolation, and with cleanness of teeth, a full breast, an empty belly, big pockets without pence, pinching penury perfect poverty, drouth, hunger, want of money, and friends both, old age, dim eyes, feeble joints, without shoes or clothes, the real fruits of a bad marriage, which brings thoughtless Fops to both faith and repentance in one day.

Thirdly, Another thing I see, hear, and cannot help, is the breeding of bairns, and bringing them up like bill-stirks, they gie them walth o’ meat, but nae manners: but whan I was a bairn, if I didna bend to obedience, I ken mysel what I gat which learned me what to gie mine again; if they had tell’d me tuts, or prute-no, I laid them o’er my knee, and a com’d crack for crack o’er their hurdies, like a knock bleaching a harn-web, till the red wats stood on their hips, this brought obedience into my house, and banished dods and ill-nature out at the door; I dang the de’il out o’ them, and dadded them like a wet dish-clout till they did my bidding: But now the bairns are brought up to spit fire in their mither’s face, and cast dirt at their auld daddies: How can they be good who never saw a sample of it; or reverence old age, who practised no precepts in their youth? How can they love their parents, who gave them black poison instead of good principles? Who shewed them no good, nor taught them no duties! No marvel such children despise old age, and reverence their parents as an old horse does his father.

Fourthly, The last prevailing evil which I see, all men may hear, but none strive to help,[144] the banishment of that noble holy-day called the Sabbath, which has been blasted by a whirl-wind from the south; I am yet alive who saw this hurricane coming thro’ the walled city[145] near Solway in the South; it being on a Sunday, and a beautiful sun-shine day amangst some foul weeks in harvest-weather, which caused the Lord Mayor of the place to work hard, and put in the whole fields of wheat harvest, and the priests of that church commended him therefore: Because the season was backward, why should not man be disobedient! And this infection is come here also, surely the loss of this Sabbath-day will be counted a black Saturday to some; when I walk in the fields, I know it not but by the stopping of the plow, when in the city, only by the clossness of a few shop-doors and the sound of the bells; degenerate ideas of religion indeed! when the high praise is sounded only by bell-metal, _A sounding Brass and a tinkling Cymbal_: Is it not come to pass, the taverns roar like Ætna’s mouth; children follow their gaming, and old sinners their stroling about, nothing stopt but coal-carts and common carriers, the Sabbath lasts no longer than the sermon, and the sermon is measured by a little sand in a glass; many, too many frequent the church, seemingly only to show their antic dress, with heads of a monstruous form, more surprizing than those described by Aristotle, as for length exceeding that of an asses’s head, ears and all; and ah! How humbling would it be, to see their heads struck into such a hideous form, &c.

They disdain now to ride on pads as of old, or to be hobled on a horse’s hurdies, but must be hurled behind the tail, safely seated in a leather conveniency, and there they fly swiftly as in the chariot of Aminadab.[146]