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“Hide me, hide me, for the sake of gudeness, for yonder comes my auld faither!"

Nae sooner said than done. In he stappit her into a closet; and, after shutting the door on her, he sat down upon a chair, pretending to be asleep in a moment. The auld faither came bouncing in, and seeing the fellow as sound as a tap, he ran forrit, and gaed him sich a shake, as if he wad ha'e shooken him a' sundry, which sune made him open his een as fast as he had steekit them. After blackguarding the chield at no allowance, cursing him up hill and down dale, and ca'ing him every name but a gentleman, he haddit his staff ower his crown, and gripping him by the cuff o' the neck, askit him what he had made o' his daughter. Never since I was born did I ever see sich brazen-faced impudence! The rascal had the brass to say at ance, that he hadna seen word or wittens o' his daughter for a month, though mair than a hundred folk sitting in his company had seen him dauting her with his arm round her jimpy waist not five minutes before. As a man, as a father, as an elder of our kirk, my corruption was raised, for I aye hated leeing, as a puir cowardly sin, and an inbreak on the ten commandments: and I fand my neebour, Maister Glen, fidgeting on the seat as weel as me; so I thocht, that whaever spoke first wad ha'e the best right to be entitled to the reward; whereupon, just as he was in the act of rising up, I took the word out of his mouth, saying, "Dinna believe him, auld gentleman, dinna believe him, friend; he's telling a parcel of lees. Never saw her for a month! It's no worth arguing, or ca'ing witnesses. Just open

that press door, and ye'll see whether I'm speaking truth

or no.

The auld man stared, and lookit dumb-foundered; and the young man, instead of rinning forrit wi' his double neives to strike me, the only thing I was feared for, began a laughing, as if I had dune him a gude turn. But never since I had a being did I ever witness an uproar and noise as immediately took place. The haill house was sae glad that the scoundrel had been exposed,

that they set up siccan a roar o' lauchter, and thumpit away at siccan a rate at the boards wi' their feet, that at lang and last, wi' pushing, and fidgeting, and hadding their sides, down fell the place they ca' the gallery, a' the folk in't being hurled tapsy-turvy, head foremost amang the saw-dust on the floor below; their guffawing sune being turned to howling, ilka ane crying louder than anither at the tap o' their voices, "Murder! murder! haud off me; murder! my ribs are in; murder! I'm killed-I'm speechless!" and ither lamentations to that effect; so that a rush to the door took place, in which everything was overturned; the door-keeper being wheeled away like wildfire, the firms strampit to pieces, the lights knockit out, and the twa blind fiddlers dung head foremost ower the stage, the bass fiddle cracking like thunder at every bruise. Siccan tearing, and swearing, and tumbling, and squeeling, was never witnessed in the memory of man, sin' the building of Babel; legs being likely to be broken, sides staved in, een knocked out, and lives lost; there being only ae door, and that a sma' ane: so that when we had been carried off our feet that length, my wind was fairly gane, and a sick dwam cam' ower me, lights of a' manner of colours-red, blue, green, and orange, dancing before me, that entirely deprived me o' common sense, till, on opening my een in the dark, I fand mysel' leaning wi' my braid side against the wa' on the opposite side of the close. It was some time before I mindit what had happened; so dreading scaith, I fand first the ae arm, and then the ither, to see if they were broken, syne my head, and syne baith o' my legs; but a', as weel as I could discover, was skinhale and scart free. On perceiving which, my joy was without bounds, having a great notion that I had been killed on the spot. So I reached round my hand, very thankfully, to tak' out my pocket-napkin, to gi'e my brow a wipe, when lo, and behold, the tail of my Sunday's coat was fairly aff and away, dockit by the haunch buttons!

IMPH-M."

(JAMES NICHOLSON.)

Ye've heard hoo the de'il, as he wauchel'd through Beith
Wi' a wife in ilk oxter, an' ane in his teeth,

When some ane cried out, "Will ye tak' mine the morn?”
He wagg'd his auld tail while he cockit his horn,
But only said "Imph-m,"

That usefu' word "Imph-m;"

Wi' sic a big mouthfu', he couldna say, A—y—e!

e;

han'!"

When I was a laddie langsyne at the schule,
The maister aye ca'd me a dunce an' a fule
For a' that he said, I could ne'er un'erstan',
Unless when he bawled, "Jamie! haud out yer
Then I gloom'd, and said "Imph-m,"
I glunch'd, and said "Imph-m;"
I wasna ower proud, but ower dour to say, A-y—e!

Ae day a queer word, as lang-nebbit's himsel',
He vow'd he would thrash me if I wadna spell,
Quo' I, "Maister Quill," wi' a kin' o' a swither,
"I'll spell ye the word gif ye'll spell me anither:
Let's hear ye spell 'Imph-m,'

That common word 'Imph-m,'
That auld Scotch word 'Imph-m,' ye ken it means
A-y-e?"

Had ye seen hoo he glower'd, hoo he scratch'd his big pate,

An' shouted, "Ye villain, get oot o' my gate!

Get aff tae yer seat! ye're the plague o' the schule !
The de'il o' me kens if ye're maist rogue or fule!"
But I only said "Imph-m,"

That common word " Imph―m,"

That auld-farran' "Imph-m," that stan's for anA-y-e!

An' when a brisk wooer, I courted my Jean-
O' Avon's braw lasses the pride an' the queen-
When 'neath my grey plaidie, wi' heart beatin' fain,
I spier'd in a whisper, if she'd be my ain,

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She blush'd, an' said "Imph-m,'
That charming word "Imph-m,'
A thoosan' times better an' sweeter than-A—y—e!

An' noo I'm a dad wi' a hoose o' my ain-
A dainty bit wifie, an' mair than ae wean;
But the warst o't is this-when a question I spier,
They pit on a luik sae auld-farran' an' queer,
But only say "Imph-m,"

That daft-like word "Imph-m,”

That vulgar word "Imph-m"-they winna sayA-y-e!

Sae I've gi'en owre the "Imph-m"-it's no a nice word;

When printed on paper, it's perfect absurd;

An' gif ye're owre lazy to open yer jaw,

Jist haud ye yer tongue, an' say naething ava;

But never say "Imph-m,'

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That daft-like word "Imph-m,"

It's ten times mair vulgar than even braid-A—y—e! From "Kilwuddie; and other Poems;" published by the Scottish Temperance Society.

JOHN BROWN OF PRIESTHILL.

(REV. GEORGE GILFILLAN.)

In 1684, the common soldiers were empowered, without indictment or trial, to put to death suspicious persons, if they refused to take the oaths, or to answer the questions which they pressed upon them. Hence occurred the never-to-be-forgotten murder of John Brown, the Ayrshire carrier. This man lived at a house (still stand

ing, we believe) called Priesthill, in the parish of Muirkirk. It occupied an eminence commanding a wide and waste view of heath, mosses, and rocks. John Brown was an amiable and blameless man. He had taken no part in the risings or public testifyings of the times. His only crimes were, his non-attendance on the curate of the parish, and his occasionally retiring, with some likeminded, to a favourite ravine among the moors, where they spent the Sabbath-day in praise and prayer. His wife was a noble spirit: blythe, leal-hearted, humorous even. He, on the other hand, was gravely mild and sedate, and her smile shone on him like sunshine on a dun hill-side, and transfigured him into gladness. His family was one of peace, although Isabel Weir was his second wife, and there were children of the first alive. All were wont to pour out, like blood from one heart, to meet him, when he was seen approaching on his packhorse from his distant excursions. Latterly, as the persecution fell darker, and closed in around those Ayrshire wolds, John could no longer ply his trade; nay, was even compelled occasionally to leave his home, and spend days and nights in the remoter solitudes of the country. Nevertheless, his hour at last arrived. It was the 30th of April 1685. John Brown had been at home, and unmolested for some time: he had risen early, and had performed public worship. The psalm sung was the twentyseventh; and the chapter read the sixteenth of John, which closes with the remarkable words, "In the world ye shal have tribulation: but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world." His prayer was, as usual, powerful and fervent; for, although he stuttered in common speech, he never stuttered in prayer: he could not but speak fluently in the dialect of heaven! He then went away alone to the hill to prepare some peat-ground. Meanwhile Claverhouse had come in late at night to Lesmahagow, where a garrison was posted; had heard of John; had risen still earlier than his victim; and by six on that grey April morning had tracked him to the moss; had surrounded him with three troops of dragoons, and

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