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But far frae thee the bailies dwell,
Or they would scunner at your knell;
Gie the foul thief his riven bell,
And then, I trow,

The byword hauds, "The deil himsel'
Has got his due." *

MUTUAL COMPLAINT OF PLAINSTANES AND CAUSEY.

IN THEIR MOTHER-TONGUE.

SINCE Merlin † laid Auld Reekie's causey,
And made her o' his wark right saucy,
The spacious street and gude plainstanes
Were never kenn'd to crack but ance;
Whilk happen'd on the hinder night,
When Fraser's tulie tint its light.

*The Tron Church, in the High Street of Edinburgh, was built in 1647, but not completely finished till 1663. Its bell, which cost 1,400 merks, or £82 10s. 2 d., was put up in 1673. This useful, but, if we are to believe Fergusson, unpleasant servant of the public, came to an untimely end, November 16, 1724, when, the steeple having caught fire in the midst of the wide-spread conflagration which then befell the city, the bell was melted by the flames, and fell in masses upon the floor below. Many citizens of Edinburgh, from an affectionate regard for the object of Fergusson's whimsical vituperations, obtained pieces of the metal, from which they formed cups, hand-bells, and other such utensils, with commemorative inscriptions. Such was the end of this "wanwordy, crazy, dinsome thing."-Robert Chambers.

There is a tradition in Edinburgh, noticed by Maitland, that the High Street was first paved by a Frenchman named Merlin, from whom a wynd or alley near the Tron Church took its name, in consequence of his having been buried at the head of it under his own work. A peculiar arrangement of the stones marked the spot where Merlin was understood to lie, down to a period within the recollection of old people.-Robert Chambers.

The contractor for the lamps.

O' Highland sentries nane were waukin'
To hear their cronies glibly taukin';
For them this wonder might hae rotten,
And, like night robbery, been forgotten,
Hadna a caddie, wi' his lantern,

Been gleg enough to hear them bant'rin',
Wha cam to me neist mornin' early
To gie me tidings o' this ferly.

Ye tauntin' louns, trow this nae joke,
For ance the ass of Balaam spoke,
Better than lawyers do, forsooth,
For it spak naething but the truth!
Whether they follow its example,
You'll ken best when you hear the sample.

PLAINSTANES.

My friend! thir hunder years, and mair,
We've been forfoughen late and ear';
In sunshine and in weety weather,
Our thrawart lot we bure thegither.
I never growl'd, but was content
When ilk ane had an equal stent;
But now to flyte I'se e'en be bauld,
When I'm wi' sic a grievance thrall'd.
How haps it, say, that mealy bakers,
Hair-kaimers, creishy gizzy-makers,
Should a' get leave to waste their pouthers
Upon my beaux' and ladies' shouthers?
My travellers are fley'd to dead
Wi' creels wanchancy, heap'd wi' bread,
Frae whilk hing down uncanny nicksticks,
That aften gie the maidens sic licks
As mak them blythe to screen their faces
Wi' hats and muckle maun bon-graces,
And cheat the lads that fain would see
The glances o' a pawky e'e,

Or gie their loves a wily wink,

That erst might lend their hearts a clink!

Speak, was I made to dree the ladin'
O' Gallic chairman heavy treadin',
Wha in my tender buke bore holes
Wi' waefu' tackets i' the soles
O' brogs, whilk on my body tramp,
And wound like death at ilka clamp?

CAUSEY.

Weel crackit, friend!-It aft hauds true,
Wi' naething fouk mak maist ado.
Weel ken ye, though ye doughtna tell,

I pay the sairest kain mysel'.

Owre me, ilk day, big waggons rumble,
And a' my fabric birze and jumble.
Owre me the muckle horses gallop,
Eneugh to rug my very saul up;

And coachmen never trow they're sinnin'
While down the street their wheels are spinnin'.
Like thee, do I not bide the brunt
O' Highland chairman's heavy dunt?
Yet I hae never thought o' breathing
Complaint, or makin' din for naething.

PLAINSTANES.

Haud sae, and let me get a word in.
Your back's best fitted for the burden:
And I can eithly tell you why-
Ye're doughtier by far than I:
For whinstanes houkit frae the Craigs
May thole the prancin' feet o' naigs,
Nor ever fear uncanny hotches

Frae clumsy carts or hackney coaches;
While I, a weak and feckless creature,
Am moulded by a safter nature.
Wi' mason's chisel dighted neat,
To gar me look baith clean and feat,

Salisbury Crags.

*

I scarce can bear a sairer thump
Than comes frae soul of shoe or pump.
I grant, indeed, that now and then
Yield to a patten's pith I maun;

But pattens, though they're aften plenty,
Are aye laid doun wi' feet fu' tenty;

And strokes frae ladies, though they're teazin',

I freely maun avow, are pleasin'.

For what use was I made, I wonder?

It wasna tamely to chap under
The weight o' ilka codroch chiel,
That does my skin to targets peel,
But, if I guess aright, my trade is
To fend frae skaith the bonny ladies;
To keep the bairnies free frae harms
When airin' i' their nurses' arms;
To be a safe and canny bield
For growin' youth and droopin' eild.
Tak, then, frae me the heavy load

O' burden-bearers heavy shod;

Or, by my troth, the gude auld town sall
Hae this affair before the Council.

CAUSEY.

I dinna care a single jot,
Though summon'd by a shelly-coat;
Sae leally I'll propone defences,
As get ye flung for my expenses.
Your libel I'll impugn verbatim,
And hae a magnum damnum datum:
For though frae Arthur's-Seat I sprang
And am in constitution strang,
Would it not fret the hardest stane
Beneath the Luckenbooths * to grane?

* A series of tenements which rose nearly to the height of the adjacent houses, built within a few yards of the church of St. Giles, headed at their western extremity by the old Tolbooth of Edinburgh.

Though magistrates the Cross* discard,
It maksna when they leave the Guard †—
A lumbersome and stinkin' biggin'
That rides the sairest on my riggin'.
Poor me ower meikle do ye blame
For tradesmen trampin' on your wame;
Yet a' your advocates and braw fouk,
Come still to me 'twixt ane and twa 'clock,
And never yet were ken'd to range
At Charlie's statue or Exchange ‡
Then tak your beaux and macaronies;
Gie me trades-fouk and country Johnnies;
The diel's in't gin ye dinna sign

Your sentiments conjunct wi' mine.

PLAINSTANES.

Gin we twa could be as auldfarrant
As gar the Council gie a warrant,
Ilk loun rebellious to tak

Wha walks not in the proper track,

And o' three shillin's Scottish souk him,

Or in a water-hole sair douk him;

*The Market-Cross had been removed in 1752, as touchingly lamented by Sir Walter Scott, at whose palatial seat of Abbotsford the ornamental stones of it are still preserved.

"Dun Edin's Cross, a pillar'd stone,

Rose on a turret octagon;

But now is razed that monument,

Whence royal edicts rang,

And voice of Scotland's law was sent
In glorious trumpet clang.

O! be his tomb as lead to lead,
Upon its dull destroyer's head!-
A minstrel's malison is said."

-Marmion, canto v., v. 25.

The Guard-House was a long, low, ugly building, removed in 1787-8.

Two places, laid with plainstanes for the convenience of the merchants, who, however, could never be prevailed upon to take advantage of them, but held to their old haunt on the causey near the Cross.-Robert Chambers.

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