1819.]

PRANDIAL.

21

seeching the jury to recommend him to mercy. But he took occasion, at the same time, to observe, that, in point of law, Mr. Tims might recover the price from Haggart. Here Mr. Odoherty expressed some doubts as to Mr. Tim's success before the Sheriff, maintaining that a dog-seller is not liable to repayment of the price on a dog's fondness for mutton being discovered, unless special warrandice from that particular vice is expressly given. Tickler, on the other hand, was clearly of opinion, that a fair price infers warrandice of every kind, besides steadiness to fur, feather, and flint. The full discussion, however, of this difficult subject was reserved for a future occasion-nor should we have mentioned it now, had it not been that both Tickler and Odoherty are such high authorities, they having written the two best treatises extant on the Game Laws. Our interpreter by this time returned to his countrymen, and succeeded in smoothing the raven down of their darkness till it smiled." They joined our party in an amicable manner, and we all ratified the treaty of peace over a flowing quech. Indeed, we, whom it is not easy to humbug, could not help having our suspicions, that the whole story of the worried sheep was got up for the occasion, and that these bashful Celts preferred, as it were, storming our intrenchments to get at the grouse and whisky, to that more pacific and more regular approach which they were prevented from adopting by their well-known national modesty.

On returning to the tent, we found that Kempferhausen and Buller of Brazennose had stolen away from the scene of strife, and had been for some time actually playing a pair of formidable knives and forks on the grouse and venison, thus taking the start, in no very handsome manner, of the rest of the party, who had probably as good appetites, and certainly better manners, than themselves. When we were all seated again, “Pretty well, Master Kempferhausen,” cried Odoherty, "for a young gentleman with a toothache." Meanwhile, John of Sky kept pacing round the tent, and from his bag-pipes, ornamented with a hundred streamers, blew such soul-ennobling din, that each man felt his stomach growing more capacious within him, and the chairman forthwith ordered a round of mountain-dew. How the dinner came at last to a termination, we never could discover; but the best of friends must part, and so felt we when the last tureen of grouse disappeared. A slight breeze had by this time providentially sprung up among the hills; and as not a wind could blow without our tent standing in its way, and as the lower canvas had been dexterously furled up by Odoherty, a grateful coolness stole over our saloon, and nothing seemed wanting to complete our happiness, but a bowl of good cold rum-punch.*

*Rum punch, made of one part of rum to five of cold sherbet, is the peculiar drink of Glasgow.-M.

We had not been so improvident as to let the baggage-wagon leave Edinburgh without a ten-gallon cask of rum (Potts of Glasgow), and a gross of lemons, individually lodged in paper; and Bailie Jarvie had been busily employed for some time past (though we were all too well occupied to miss him) in manufacturing, not a bowl, but a tub of punch, from the waters of that clear cold spring, which no sun could affect. "I would like to lay my lugs in't," cried the Shepherd, in his most impassioned manner, when the tub appeared; and indeed we all crowded round it with as much eagerness as ever we ourselves have seen parched soldiers in India crowd round an unexpected tank. Dr. Scott, who is constantly armed at all points, requested Peter's man John to bring him his surtout, and slyly asking Mr. Buller of Brazennose if he had ever seen the small dwarf Caribbee lemon, brought to light, from the dark depth of these unfathomable pockets, half a dozen ripe marriageable limes, which we permitted him to squeeze into the tub with all the grace, dignity, and dexterity of a Glasgow Maker.

Of course we again drank the Prince Regent's health, and all the toasts usual at public meetings. The Chairman then rose, and in a speech, of which we regret it is impossible for us at present to give even a sketch, proposed

THE EARL OF FIFE.

When the pealing thunders of applause had in a few minutes ceased, Odoherty rose, and with that charming modesty which so sets off his manifold accomplishments, said, that if not disagreeable to the company, he would recite a few verses which he had that morning composed, as he was drinking a cup of whisky and water at a spring in the mountains behind Mar-Lodge..

POEM.

Recited by Odoherty at a Grand Dinner-Party of the Contributors, in their Tent near Mar-Lodge, on the 12th of August, 1819.

1.

Hail to thy waters! softly-flowing Dee!
Hail to their shaded pure transparency !
Hail to the royal oak and mountain-pine,
With whose reflected pride those waters shine!

2.

And hail, ye central glories of the plain!
All hail, ye towers ancestral of the THANE!
Clear as the Scottish stream whose honor flows,
Broad as the Scottish grove whose bounty grows.

It is impossible to conceive what effect was given to these lines (which are certainly better than any of Mr. W. Fitzgerald's* or Mr. James Thomson's) by the graceful and spirited elocution of the Standard-bearer; and Seward of Christchurch, now above all foolish prejudices, and following the impulses of his own fine classical taste and feeling, vowed that he had never heard more sweetly-pretty verses recited in the Sheldon Theatre, Oxford, at a Commemoration. On Odoherty's health and verses being drunk, that excellent poet again rose, and begged leave to call upon his friend, the Ettrick Shepherd, for a poem or a song. Says the Shepherd, "Ye hae a' eaten a gude dinner I'm thinking-but recollect it was me that killed the sawmon, and I'll now gie you an elegy, or eulogy, on him-deil tak me gin I ken the difference. But I canna stan', I maun recent sitting."

SONG TO A SALMON.

By the Ettrick Shepherd.

I.

Thou bonny fish from the far sea
Whose waves unwearied roll
In primitive immensity

Aye buffeting the pole!

From millions of thy silvery kind

In that wide waste that dwell

Thou only power and path didst find,
To reach this lonely dell.

This is he of whom Byron wrote

"Shall hoarse Fitzgerald bawl

His creaking couplets in a tavern hall ?"

At the annual dinner of the Literary Fund, in London, he used to mount on one of the tables and recite verses of his own composing, greatly to the amusement of all who heard him. In the Rejected Addresses." written by Horace and James Smith; there is an excellent parody on one of these compositions.-M.

II.

That wond'rous region was thy own,
That home upon the deep-

To thee were all the secrets known
In that dark breast that sleep-

Thou, while thy form midst heave and toss.
Had still the billows play been,

Perhaps knewest more than Captain Ross,
Or yet than Captain Sabine.*

III.

Yea, Fish! nor wise alone wast thou,
But happy-what's far better-
Ne'er did thy fins to Barrow bow,
They feared not Croker's letter-

But far and wide their strokes they plied.
Smooth thro' the ocean smoother,

Nor drab-clad Gifford chilled their pride,
Nor Leslie's buff and blue there.f

IV.

And now, my Beauty! bold and well
Thy pilgrim-course hath been-

For thou, like Wordsworth's Peter Bell,

Hast gazed on Aberdeen!

And all those sweetest banks between,

By Invercauld's broad tree,

The world of beauty hast thou seen

That sleeps upon the Dee.

V.

There oft in silence clear and bright

Thou layest a shadow still,

In some green nook where with delight

Joined in the mountain-rill,

There, 'mid the water's scarce-heard boom,

Didst thou float, rise, and sink,

While o'er the breathing banks of broom

The wild deer came to drink.

VI.

Vain sparry grot and verdant cave
The stranger to detain-

For thou wast wearied of the wave

And loud voice of the main ;

And naught thy heart could satisfy

But those clear gravelly rills,

Where once a young and happy fry
Thou danced among the hills!

* Captains Ross and Sabine, engaged at this time in trying to discover the north west passage.-M.

Barrow and Croker were then officials in the Admiralty at London. Gifford edited the Quarterly Review, which has a drab-colored cover, and Leslie was contributing to the Edinburgh, which was clothed in the buff and blue of the Whigs.-M.

It was some hours before we could prevail on any of our friends to favor us with another poem or song, naturally so much awed were they all by the splendid efforts of a Hogg and an Odoherty. At last Tickler, to get rid of unceasing importunities from every side, chanted to the bagpipe the following song, which excited one feeling of regret that its length should have been in an inverse ratio to that of the singer.

TICKLER'S SONG TO A BROTHER SPORTSMAN AT A DISTANCE.

VOL .I.

1.

Though I rove through the wilds of majestic Braemar,

'Mid the haunts of the buck and the roe,

O! oft are my thoughts with my dear friends afar,
'Mid the black-cocks of Minnard that go.

2.

O sweet upon bonny Loch-Fyne be your weather,
As is mine on the banks of the Dee!

And light be your steps o'er Kilberry's braw heather,
As on Fife's mine own footsteps can be!

3.

May the scent still lie warm on the heath of Argyle,
Thy pointers stand staunch, and unerring thine aim-
As I bring down the birds right and left-why I smile
To think that my friend may be doing the same.

4.

Nor your trophies alone is my fancy revealing!

Well I picture the scores that have bled

Long-oh! long ere this hour, round the laird's lonely sheiling,
That murderous lair, Caddenhead!

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