AMBROSE DEMENTED.

Oh! how oft has it gladdened each true Tory heart
To witness his feats in the thirst-slaking art;
I call it not drinking, for that were a word,
In speaking of Sam, altogether absurd-

Let us rather declare that no mortal e'er swam

On the spring-tide of Bacchus so buoyant as Sam.

Yet it was not in wit, nor yet was it in wine,

That alone he held sway-for Sam woo'd the whole Nine-
It's now an old story, yet many a tongue

Still rejoices to tell of the days of Bill Young,1

When Baxter's' fine speeches (which some thought Balaam)
Were sure to call forth something finer from Sam.

And then, though the Muses his youth might engage,
Still science severe fixed his more mature age;
And Oxford shall glory for many a day

In "Sedgwick and Sam" 'mong her learned array,
For long may you wander by Isis or Cam,

Ere

you chance to fall in with a fellow like Sam!

Such has Sam ever been, and long, long may he be

Precisely the Sam he has still been to me !

The Thistle we now must entwine with the Rose (Affettuoso).
But our hearts still are with him wherever he goes.

So now, in conclusion, I make my salaam,

By proposing the toast of the evening-SAM !

23

Registrar (rising). Mr Chairman (bowing, with his hand on his heart). Mr Vice (bowing). On rising, gentlemen

Ambrose (rushing into the Tent, stark naked, except his flannel drawers). Hurra! hurra! hurra!-hurra! hurra! hurra!— hurra! hurra! hurra! Who'll dance-who'll dance with me -waltz-jig-Lowland reel-Highland fling-gallopade? Hurra! hurra! hurra! (Keeps dancing round the Tent table, yelling, and snapping his fingers.)

North. Be seated gentlemen-I see how it is—he has been drinking of the elf-well, up among the rocks behind the

1 Young's Tavern was situated in one of the closes on the north side of the High Street, Edinburgh.

2 Mr Baxter, Writer to the Signet, was an ally of Lockhart's and Wilson's in their early days. He migrated to Russia many years ago.

3 Professor Sedgwick is a member of Cambridge, and not of Oxford, University.

24

THE SHEPHERD THE SHEPHERD !

Tent, and human lip never touched that cold stream, but man or woman lost his or her seven senses, and was insane for life. Registrar. A pleasant prospect.

Tickler. That may be-but, confound me, if Ambrose be the man to be caught in that kind of trap. Where's the Tower of Babel?

North. There!

Ambrose (pirouetting). Look yonder, mine honoured master, through those rocks.

North. Nay, Brose, I can see as far through a millstone, or a milestone either, as most men, but as for looking through rocks

Ambrose. I saw him, with these blessed eyes of mine, I saw him—on horseback, sir, driving down the hill, yonder, sir, at full gallop

North. Whom?-ye saw whom?

Ambrose. Himself, sir-his very own self, sir-as I hope to be saved.

Registrar. I fear his case is hopeless. Those sudden accesses are fatal.

Tickler. Why, his drawers will be at his heels if

Ambrose (somewhat subsiding). I had gone in to the dookin, gentlemen, as you say in Scotland, and was ploutering about in the pool, when, just as I had squeezed the water out of my eyes, after a plunge, I chanced to look up the hillside, and there I saw him—with these blessed eyes I saw him—his own very self. [Horses' hoofs heard at full gallop nearing the Tent. Tickler. The Wild Huntsman !

[Horse and rider charge the Tent-horse all of a sudden halts - thrown back on his haunches and rider, flying over his head, alights on his feet-while his foraging cap spins over the Lion's fiery mane, now drooping in the afternoon calm from the mast-head.

Omnes. THE SHEPHERD! THE SHEPHERD! THE SHEPHERD ! hurra! hurra! hurra! hurra! hurra! hurra! hurra! hurra! hurra!

Shepherd. Hurraw! hurraw! hurraw!

North (white as a sheet, and seeming about to swoon). Water! Shepherd. Whare's the strange auld tyke? Whare's the queer auld fallow? Whare's the canty auld chiel? Whare's the dear auld deevil? Oh! North-North-North-Northma freen-ma brither-ma faither-let's tak ane anither intil

ane anither's arms-let's kiss ane anither's cheek-as the guid cheevalry knichts used to do-when, ha'in fa'en out aboot some leddy-luve, or some disputed laun', or some king's changefu' favour, or aiblins aboot naething ava but the stupit lees o' some evil tongues, they happened to forgather when riding opposite ways through a wood, and flingin themsels, wi' ae feelin and ae thocht, aff their twa horses, cam clashin thegither wi' their mailed breists, and began sobbin in the silence o' the auncient aiks that were touched to their verra cores to see sic forgiveness and sic affection atween thae twa stalwart champions, wha, though baith noo weepin like weans or women, had aften ridden side by side thegither, wi' shields on their breists and lang lances shootin far out fearsomely afore them, intil the press o' battle, while their chargers, redwat-shod, gaed gallopin wi' their hoofs that never ance touched the grun' for men's faces bashed bluidy, and their sodden corpses squelchin at every spang o' the flying dragons. But what do I mean by a' this talkin to mysel? - Pity me Mr North- but you're white's a ghaist! Let me bear in ye my airms intil the Tent. [SHEPHERD carries NORTH into the Tent. North. I was much to blame, James-but

Shepherd. I was muckle mair to blame mysel nor you, sir

and

North. Why, James, it is by no means improbable that you

were

Shepherd. O ye auld Autocrat! auld Autocrat! But will ye promise me

gin I promise ye

North. Anything, James, in the power of mortal man to perform.

Shepherd. Gie's your haun! Noo repeat the words after me-(NORTH keeps earnestly repeating the words)-I swear, in this Tent pitched in the Fairy's Cleugh, in presence o' Timothy Tickler and Sam An

North. They are not in the Tent.

That I wull

Shepherd. I wasna observin. That's delicate. never breathe a whusper even to ma ain heart at the laneliest hour o' midnicht-except it be when I am sayin my prayers-dinna sab, sir-o' ony misunderstaunin that ever happened atween us twa either about Mawga, or ony ither toppic as lang's I leeve-an' am no deserted by my senses —but am left in fu' possession o' the gift o' reason; an' I noo dicht aff the tablets o' my memory ilka letter o'ony ugly

26

THE SHEPHERD WAKENS THE FOREST.

record, that the enemy, takin advantage o' the corruption o' our fallen natur-contreeved to scarify there, wi' the pint o' an airn pen-red-het frae yon wicked place-I noo dicht them a' aff, just as I dicht aff frae this table thae wine-draps wi' ma sleeve and I forgie ye frae the verra bottom o' ma sowl – wi' as perfeck forgiveness-as if you were my ain brither, deein at hame in his father's house-shune after his return frae a lang voyage outower the sea!

[NORTH and the SHEPHERD again embrace-their faces wax exceedingly cheerful-and they sit for a little while without saying a word.

North. My dear James, have you dined?

Shepherd. Dined? Why, man, I've had ma fowre-hours. But I maun tell ye a' about it. A bit lassie, you see, that had come to your freen Scottie's to pay a visit to a sister o' hers—a servant in the family—that was rather dwinin frae the kintra down about Annadale-wise, past by the Tent in the grey o' the morning, yesterday, afore ony ane o' you were out o' the blankets, except a cretur that, frae the description, maun hae been Tappytoorie, and she learned frae him that the Tent belanged to a great lord they ca'd North-Lord North-and that he had come out on a shootin and a fishin ploy, and, forby, to tak a plan o' a' the hills, in order to mak a moddle o' them in cork, wi' quicksiller for the lochs and rinnin waters, and sheets o' beaten siller for the waterfa's, and o' beaten gold for the element at sunset-and that twa ither shinin characters were in his rettenue-wham Tappy ca'd to heras she threeped1-Sir Teemothy Tickleham, Bart., o' Southside, and the Lord High Registrar o' Lunnon. Ma heart lap to ma mouth, and then after some flutterin becam as heavy's a lump o' cauld lead. The wife gied me sic a smile! And then wee Jamie was a' the while, in his affectionat way, leanin again' ma knee. I took a walk by mysel; and a' was licht. Forthwith I despatched some gillies to wauken the Forest. I never steekit an ee, and by skreigh o' day was aff on the beast. But I couldna ken how ye micht be fennin3 in the Tent for fish, sae I thocht I micht as weel tak a whup at the Meggat. How they lap! I filled ma creel afore the dew-melt; and as it's out o' the poo'r o' ony mortal man wi' a heart to gie ower fishin in the Meggat durin a tak, I kent 2 Skreigh o' day-break of day. 4 Lap-leaped.

1 Threeped-asserted.
3 Fennin-faring.

2

A GOOD DAY'S FISHING.

27

by the sun it was nine-hours, and by that time I had filled a' ma pouches, the braid o' the tail o' some o' them whappin again' ma elbows. You'll no be surprised, Mr North-for though you're far frae bein' sic a gude angler as you suppose, and as you cry yoursel up in Mawga, oh! but you're mad fond o't-that I had clean forgotten the beast! After a lang search I fand him a mile doun the water, and ma certes, for the next twa hours the gress didna grow aneath his heels. I took a hantle o' short cuts, for I ken the kintra better than ony fox. But I forgot I wasna on foot-the beast got blawn, and comin up the Fruid,' reested wi' me on Garlet-Dod. The girth burst—aff fell the saddle, and he fairly laid himsel doun! I feared he had brak his heart, and couldna think o' leavin him, for, in his extremity, I kent the raven o' Gameshope wad hae picked out his een. Sae I just thocht I wad try the Fruid wi' the flee, and put on a professor. The Fruid's fu' o'sma' troots, and I sune had a string. I couldna hae had about me, at this time, ae way and ither, in ma several repositories, string and a', less than thretty dizzen o' troots. I heard the yaud nicherin, and kent he had gotten second wun', sae having hidden the saddle among the brackens, munted, and lettin him tak it easy for the first half-hour, as Í skirted Earlshaugh holms I got him on the haun-gallop, and I needna tell you o' the Arab-like style in which I feenally brocht him in, for, considering that I carried wecht, you'll alloo he wad be cheap at a hunder guineas, and for that soum, sir, the beast's your ain!-Rax me ower the jug.—But didna I see a naked man? [Re-enter TICKLER and the REGISTRAR. Tickler. O King of the Shepherds, mayst thou live for ever! Shepherd (looking inquisitively to NORTH). Wha's he that? (Turning to TICKLER)-Sir! you've the advantage of me-for I really cannot say that I ever had the pleasure o' seein you atween the een afore; but you're welcome to our Tent-sit doun, and gin ye be dry, tak a drink.

Registrar. James?

Shepherd. Ma name's no James. But what though it was? Folk shouldna be sae familiar at first sicht. (To NORTH in an under-tone)—A man o' your renown, sir, should really be mair seleck.

Tickler. I beg pardon, sir-but I mistook you for that halfwitted body the Ettrick Shepherd.

1 A tributary of the Tweed.

2 A fly, so called after Professor Wilson.