POETRY.

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MARGARY GUNN.

by William Anderson
(1805-1866)

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"Bring him out, that is a woman's son,
Can trace me in the tedious ways of art,
And hold me pace in deep experiments." — Shakespere.

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WHEN ten years o' age an' a wild, reckless loun,
I' the gloamin's for sport, I wad range a' the toun,
Wi' a horn an' pob smokin' auld fowk like bees,
Or chasing the leeries wi' pluffers an' pease.^*
Like the down o' the thistle, whatever win' blew,
I was ready to gang wi't — an' blin' fortune threw
Ae nicht i' my road, when thus seekin for fun,
A queer blint'rin' body ca'd Margary Gunn.

* About forty years ago, a crowd of boys were usually seen following the lamplighters in the evenings, and trolling the following ditty:— "Leery, leery, licht the lamps,  Lang legs an' crookit shanks,  Tak a stick an' brak his back,  An' trail him through the Broadgate."

 
 
Gin Jamie — defender an' guard o' our faith —
Had been livin' an' king, I micht safely gie aith,
What wi' wrinkles an' asthma the creature was such
That our Solomon weel micht hae brunt for a witch.
She kent by the pains in her hurdies — at least
We micht look for a storm or the win' frae the east;
An' when toastin' her taes, gin her corns gie a stun',
'Twill be rain afore mornin', quo' Margary Gunn.

She had stories o' goblins an' kelpies galore,
O' brownies an' wizards an' wraiths sic a store;
How wheels could be stoppit, an' death caunles seen,
The chackie-mill heard, an' the fairies a' coated wi' green.
Besides, wi' the cards, she your fortin could read,
Wi' a tea-cup foretell gin a lass wad come speed
Wi' a lad — an' what trysts she micht seek or should shun,
The advices were soun' cam frae Margary Gunn.

She could start reisted horses without spur or whip,
Cure dogs o' the snochers, or hens o' the pip,
Or bairns o' the grips, wi' a blast o' her breath,
An' gie travellers philters to save them frae scaith.
She relieved fowk forspoken — gin wives were to cry,
Haud a hough on occasions — bring back milk to kye;
Be first-foot at weddin's, to bliss bridal bun —
There was neathing discomfited Margary Gunn.

She had charms for the teethache, or ricketty weans,
For barrenness, too, she used some kin' o' means;
I was owre young to ken — but ae time she was out,
I noticed strange things she had rowed in a clout.
She had lang rods o' rantree an' saugh i' the nook,
Whilk on Christmas nicht she wad stick i' the crook;
An' mony nick-nacks whilk had ne'er seen the sun
For years was belangin' to Margary Gunn.

She could tell without fail by the lines on your han',
Gin your fortune by marriage was siller or lan';
How lang ye wad prosper, or how lang decline,
What escapes ye micht mak or what bargains micht tyne.
At the stars through her skylight at nicht she wad stare,
Draw horoscopes up at the birth o' an heir;
Could tell what the sex was, or dochter or son —
A' the future lay open to Margary Gunn,

She had seen bairnies only new-born astride
O' the rantletree sittin', and speakin' beside;
An' had heard o' a man wha was born in Keith,
Wi' the head o' a dog an' a full set o' teeth.
She had aft heard the Auld Chiel, when milkin' the kye,
Wi' a wild eldrich skirl, like an owlet flee by,
Or squeak like a futterit, as past her he run,
Garrin' ilka hair stan' upon Margary Gunn.

She ance let me see on her elbow a mark,
Frae a han' which she saw nae, yet got i' the dark,
An' a skelp whilk she gat steppin' in owre her bed
Wad be seen blue an' swelled after she wad be dead.
She had heard coffin-makers and lykewakers speak
O'shrouding up fowk lang afore they were sick;
An' three knocks distinctly ere cock-craw began,
Was a death sure as Scripture to Margary Gunn.

A' this wad she tell as we sat by oursel's,
Syne proffer to teach me her secrets an' spells;
How ahint the dark screen o' the future to peep,
Or how ghaists an' spectres were called frae the deep.
But I sought her ae gloamin', an' she wasna there,
She had clean disappeared, an' naebody kent where;
'Twas thocht that a ghost — when the last thread was spun
O' her life — took the body o' Margary Gunn.