Spare Half- hours.

Otago Witness, Issue 1395, 24 August 1878, Page 19

Spare Half- hours.

(Written for the Otago Witness.)

By H. Lapham. " THISTLE DOWN."

Some weeks ago I had the pleasure of placing before my readers a few "loose thoughts " on the characteristics of the Irish people. In the following paper I intond to discourse for a little while about Scotch wit and humour, under the title of Thistle Down. It is not, however, my intention to relate many stories of Scottish life and character, since that has been done well and once for all in Dean Ramsay's delightful "Reminisciences." There remain very few humorous stories that he has not gathered up, and those few are neither new nor original enough to allow me to venture to retail them. People do not care much to be regaled with " cauld kail het again," however skilfully served up. So I intend to gossip about some auld Scotch sangs, which have not, I imagine, received their due share of attention and appreciation. The generality of readers, I suspect, are as Utterly ignorant of the name or -the works of William Nicholson as Jkyas< !l until a few years ago, when a frienWhimaelf a Highlander, and as good a one as ever drank whiskey — I can'say no more,-) first read to me the poem of "The BfoNrnieof Blednoch," and taught me to enjoy its racy humour. Of Nicholson, but little is known. He was not one of the .best of men, I am afraid ; a reckless ne'er do weel, with a.decided dislike for hard work, at any rate in the shape of fixed employment ; a decided appreciation of Scotch whiskey in any quantity and at any time ; a merry, kind, impulsive heart, and & deep sincere love for nature and his fellow men. He ostensibly followed the calling of a pedler, a jovial vagrant life that ju^t suited his temperament. He had a geod voice, a quick ear for music, and played the pipes well, besides which he would make a rhyme or tell a story better than any one in the country side. So we may imagine him setting out on his rounds, his .figure, I fancy, tall, rawboned and straight, with muscles well strung, and lungs full of breath — as one neerb must have who climbs up mountain sjdes all day, and plays the bagpipes for an hour or two at night. His face, nipped into a frosty bloom by the sharp breezes that are always astir in the higher latitudes, is wrinkled and brown, with prominent cheek' bones ; his eyes, deep set beneath an over-hanging brow are quiet but ■ ever ready to kindle into mirth,,; and ever ready too is that firm mouth to melt into a kindly smile. Thus with a wallet on his back, his pipes under Ms arm,' his plaid wound about him and his grey Scotch bonnet pressed well down on his forehead, leaning on a good ash staff, he arrives at some lonely farmhouse on a winter's evening when "the wind blawsßnell," and the gathering shadows, of night are streaked with ghostly flakes of snow. He inuat indeed have been a welcome, guest.. What sonsie lassie, with bright 1 eyes, and cheeks as red as the berries of the rowan, would examine with delight the ( wxmders of his pack, how the stalwart gauky lads would hasten to tell the neighbours that Will was come, and they would " convoy" the welcome lassies over.to' a dance after "nicht fa'," while for the auld , quid man and quid wife, who were past caring for such vanities, he had all the gossip of the country round. Of , all the • pedlar's songs, it may fairly be assumed ,that "The Brownie of Bledriotoh " was the favourite, since only it and one other have been preserved. As the name imports, ihe tale is a supernatural one, < and as such would be the more acceptable to the audience for whom it was intended. 'Dwellers in remote wild mountain districts are always keenly superstitious, and have an unwavering belief in the existence of ghosts, " fenlies," " warlocks," and witches. Indeed, I wonder whether they are not wiser than modern sceptics, who doubt and sneer at all old-fashioned notions, and will accept nothing of which they cannot have ocular demonstration. All readers of Milton will recollect, his reference to the " drugging goblin," who sweat "to earn the cream bowl duly set. When in one night, ere glimpse of morn, his shadowy flail hath threshed the corn that ten day tkbourers could not end. Then lies him own the lubbar fiend, and stretched out all the chimney's length bark at the fire his hairy strength, and crop full out of doors he flings ere the first cock his matin sings." It is curious to note the diode 'resemblance between these lines and the' description of Aiken-drum of Blednoch (| , Now for- a glance at the, poem itself. "''■•'' " There came a strange wight to oor town on', An' the, fient a body did him ken ; He tirled na lang, but glided ben Wi' a dreary, dreary bum."

, How much more emphatic is the word "fient" than any English equivalent, meaning as it does a pretty oath, and tho expression "fient a body " may be feebly translated as " the deuce a one." ""His face did glow like the glow o* tho west, When the drumly cloud has it half o'ercast ; Or the struggling' moon when she's sair distrest. Oh , sirs ! 'twas Aitken-drum. I trow the bauldeat stood aback, Wi' a gape an' a glower till their lugs did crack, As the shapeless phantom mum'ling spak, Ha'e ye work for Aiken-drum ?"

r The unerring instinct of the brute' creation did not fail to recognise the uncanny nature of the visitor, for ' ' The black dog growling cowered his tail, The lassies swarfed, loot fa' the pail, Rob's lingle brak as he men't the flail At the sight o' Aiken-drum."

Saints protect us from suddenly coming upon such a personage 'tween dark and

the licht, or we would surely imitate the bairnies, and as we "skulkit" in would " gran out/ " Aiken-drum !" And who would not at this sight— " His matted head on his breast did rest, A lang blue beard wan'ered down like a vest ; But the glare 0' his e'o hath nae bard exprost, Nor the skimes 0' Aiken-drum. Roun' his hairy form was naething seen But a philabeg 0' the rashes green, _ An' his knotted knees played knoit between— What a sight was Aiken-drum. On his wauchie* arms thrco claws did meet, As they trailed on thegrun' by his taeless foet ; E'en tho auld quid man himsoF did sweat, To look at Aiken-drum." And small blame to the guidman. But the effect on the quid wife was still more wonderful. " He drew a score, himsel' did sain, The auld wifo tried but her tongue was gauo, While the young one closer clasped her wean, And turned frae Aikon-drura." Only fancy a woman so frightened that she could not speak ! " But tho canny auld wifo cam till her breath, An' she deemed tho Biblo might ward of scaith, Be it banshee, bogle, ghaist, or wraith, But, it feared na' Aiken-drum." Can you not just picture to yourself the group— the bairns keeking round the corner of the house, the frightened girls cowering in the doorway, the guidwife, pale, yet resolute, backing up the auld man, who, most reluctant, advances holding out the book in his shaking hand, and whispering under his breath "His presence protect us !" demands, " What wad ye, whare won ye, by sea or by

lan', I conjure ye— speak— by the beuk in my ban', What a grave ga'o Aiken-drum.

And all this by the uncertain twilight, 'twixt tho gloamin' and the mirk, and then the dreary awful hum of the creature's voice was heard in answer. " I lived in a lan whoro wo saw nae sky, I dwalt in a spot where a burn rins nae by, But I'se dwall now wi' you, if yo liko to try, Hae ye wark for Aiken-drum ? I'll shiel' a' your sheep iv the mornin' suue, I'll berry your crap by tho licht of tho muue, An' ba the bairns wi' an unkenned tune,

If yell keep puir Aiken-drum. I'll loup the linn where ye canna wade, I'll kirn tho kirn, an' I'll turn tho broad ; An' the wildest filly that over ran redo, I'se tame't," quoth Aiken-drum. " To wear the tod frao the flock on tho foil, To gather the dew on the heather bell, An' to look at my face in your clear crystal well, Might gi'e pleasure to Aikon-drum. I'se seek nae quids, gear, bond, nor mark, I use nae beddin', ehoon, nor sark, But a cogfu' 0' brose 'tween tho licht aud tho dark

Is tho wage 0' Aiken-drum."

An offer so disinterested was not to be refused, at any rate not by the wylie auld wife, who said,

"The thing speaks wool. Our workers aro scant, wo ha'o routh 0' moal, Gif he'll do as ho says— be ho man, be he deil— Trow, we'll try this Aiken-drum."

The lassies very naturally make the strongest objection to the arrangement. BuTthe wenches skirledf " He's no bo hero, { His eldritch looks gar us swarf wi' fear, An' the fient o' auo will tho house come near,

If they think but 0' Aikcn-drum."

Not the bravest lad that ever trod heather would care to come to a placo where such a gruesome creature "was about, and what would be the use of the wenches swarfing, i.e., swooning, unless into masculine arms. Now comes an inimitable characteristic trait of the auld wife. " Puir olipmalabors, yo hao little wit ; Is't na, hallowmas now, an' tho crap out yot ?" Sac she silenced them a' wi' a stamp 0' her fit. " Sit ydr way 3 down, Aiken-drum."

Mark we,, if tho auld guidman had any unexpressed objections she silenced him, too, " wi' that stamp o' her fit." Roun' a' that side what wark was duno By the streamer's gleam, or tho glanco 0' tho

mune 5 A word, a wish, an' thebrownio cam' sune, Sac holpfn' was Aiken-drum. On Blednoch's banks, an' on crystal Crco, For mony a day a toiled wight was ho ; While the bairnies playod harmless round his

knee, Sac social was Aiken-drum.

And thus Bocial and helpfu' he might have continued, but for a woman's curiosity. Alas, and alas, that woman should have been at the bottom of every disaster that has befallen men ever since the time that Eve pulled the pippin and inveigled her too trustful spouse into taking a Bhare. But a now made wifo fu' of frippish freaks, Fond o' a' things feat for the first five weeks, Laid a mouldy pair o' her am man's breeks By tho brose o' Aiken-drum. Let the learned decide when thoy convorso, What spell was him and tho breeks betwoon j For frae that day forth he was nao mair aeon, An' sair missed was Aiken-drum.

Well he might be, and Borely did that young woman repent her frippish freak .when she had " kirn the kirn and turned the bread," and more than ever when by-and-bye she tried to "ba" some restless wean that would have slept like a top to the Bownie's " unkennsd tune." Ho was heard by a herd gauu by tho Thrivo, Crying, " Lang, lang now may i greet an'griqve, For alas, I hao gotten baith fee and leavo — Oh, luckless Aiken-druin." It may be there aro persons who would .dare to laugh at this gruesome legend, but Awa' ye wrangling sceptic tribe, Wi' your pros and your cons, wad yo decide, 'Gain the sponsible voice o' a halo country side, On the facts about Aiken-drum. Though the Brownie's o' Blednoch'slang bogane, The mark o' his feet's left on mouy a, stauo j An' mony a wife an' mony a wean Toll tlio feats o' Aiken-drum. E'en now light loous that jibe an' sneer At spiritual guests an' a' sic gear, At Glasnock mill hao sweat wi' fear, An' looked roun' for Aiken-drum. An' guidly folkß hao gotten a fright, When tho moon was set, an' tho stars giod na light,

*No "English adjective will fairly express the moaning of this word. •JAVbicll express the shirillest of remonstrances.

At the roaring linn, in tho howl o' the night, Wi' sughs liko Aiken-drum.

Dear me, how the wind does howl and roar and sigh, at times whistling through the keyhole " wi' a dreary, dreary hum." The light, too, seems to be burning dim and with a blueish tinge, and though, goodness knows, I am no light loon that will jibe and sneer, yet I cannot help looking roun' for Aiken-drum. Listen J the clock strikes 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, G, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12 —'tis the witching hour of midnight. Good reader, let us be off to bed, pull the blanket about our ears, and get to sleep as soon as ever we can.