The Life of Mansie Wauch - tailor in Dalkeith
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The Life of Mansie Wauch - tailor in Dalkeith

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The Life of Mansie Wauch, by D. M. MoirThe Project Gutenberg eBook, The Life of Mansie Wauch, by D. M. Moir,Illustrated by Charles Martin HardieThis eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and withalmost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away orre-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License includedwith this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.orgTitle: The Life of Mansie Wauchtailor in DalkeithAuthor: D. M. MoirRelease Date: December 5, 2007 [eBook #23739]Language: EnglishCharacter set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LIFE OF MANSIE WAUCH***Transcribed from the 1911 T. N. Foulis edition by David Price, email ccx074@pglaf.orgOne of the Duke’s huntsmenTHE LIFE OFMANSIE WAUCHtailor in dalkeith writtenby himself and edited byD. M. MOIRillustrated in colour bycharles martin hardie, r.s.a.t.n.foulisLondon & Edinburgh1 9 1 1October 1911Turnbull & Spears, Printers, EdinburghtoJOHN GALT, Esq.,author of “annals of the parish,” “the provost,”“ayrshire legatees,” etc.the following sketches,principally of humble scottish character,are dedicated,by his sincere friend and admirer,the editor.Mansie’s shop doorPRELIMINARIES TO THIS VOLUMEHaving, within myself, made observation of late years, that all notable characters, whatsoever line of life they may havepursued, and to whatever business they might belong, have made a trade of committing to paper all the ...

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The Life of Mansie Wauch, by D. M. Moir The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Life of Mansie Wauch, by D. M. Moir, Illustrated by Charles Martin Hardie This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org Title: The Life of Mansie Wauch tailor in Dalkeith Author: D. M. Moir Release Date: December 5, 2007 [eBook #23739] Language: English Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) ***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LIFE OF MANSIE WAUCH*** Transcribed from the 1911 T. N. Foulis edition by David Price, email ccx074@pglaf.org One of the Duke’s huntsmen THE LIFE OF MANSIE WAUCH tailor in dalkeith written by himself and edited by D. M. MOIR illustrated in colour by charles martin hardie, r.s.a. t.n.foulis London & Edinburgh 1 9 1 1 October 1911 Turnbull & Spears, Printers, Edinburgh to JOHN GALT, Esq., author of “annals of the parish,” “the provost,” “ayrshire legatees,” etc. the following sketches, principally of humble scottish character, are dedicated, by his sincere friend and admirer, the editor. Mansie’s shop door PRELIMINARIES TO THIS VOLUME Having, within myself, made observation of late years, that all notable characters, whatsoever line of life they may have pursued, and to whatever business they might belong, have made a trade of committing to paper all the surprising occurrences and remarkable events that chanced to happen to them in the course of Providence, during their journey through life—that such as come after them might take warning and be benefited—I have found it incumbent on me, following a right example, to do the same thing; and have set down, in black and white, a good few uncos, that I should reckon will not soon be forgotten, provided they make as deep an impression on the world as they have done on me. To this decision I have been urged by the elbowing on of not a few judicious friends, among whom I would particularly remark James Batter, who has been most earnest in his request, and than whom a truer judge on anything connected with book- lear, or a better neighbour, does not breathe the breath of life: both of which positions will, I doubt not, appear as clear as daylight to the reader, in the course of the work: to say nothing of the approval the scheme met with from the pious Maister Wiggie, who has now gone to his account, and divers other advisers, that wished either the general good of the world, or studied their own particular profit. Had the course of my pilgrimage lain just on the beaten track, I would not—at least I think so—have been o’ercome by ony perswasions to do what I have done; but as will be seen, in the twinkling of half-an-eye, by the judicious reader, I am a man that has witnessed much, and come through a great deal, both in regard to the times wherein I have lived, and the out-o’-the-way adventures in which it has been my fortune to be engaged. Indeed, though I say it myself, who might as well be silent, I that have never stirred, in a manner so to speak, from home, have witnessed more of the world we live in, and the doings of men, than many who have sailed the salt seas from the East Indies to the West; or, in the course of nature, visited Greenland, Jamaica, or Van Diemen’s Land. The cream of the matter, and to which we would solicit the attention of old and young, rich and poor, is just this, that, unless unco doure indeed to learn, the inexperienced may gleam from my pages sundry grand lessons, concerning what they have a chance to expect in the course of an active life; and the unsteady may take a hint concerning what it is possible for one of a clear head and a stout heart to go through with. Notwithstanding, however, these plain and evident conclusions, even after writing the whole out, I thought I felt a kind of a qualm of conscience about submitting an account of my actions and transactions to the world during my lifetime; and I had almost determined, for decency’s sake, not to let the papers be printed till after I had been gathered to my fathers; but I took into consideration the duty that one man owes to another; and that my keeping back, and withholding these curious documents, would be in a great measure hindering the improvement of society, so far as I was myself personally concerned. Now this is a business, which James Batter agrees with me in thinking is carried on, furthered, and brought about, by every one furnishing his share of experience to the general stock. Let-a-be this plain truth, another point of argument for my bringing out my bit book at the present time is, that I am here to the fore bodily, with the use of my seven senses, to give day and date to all such as venture to put on the misbelieving front of Sadducees, with regard to any of the accidents, mischances, marvellous escapes, and extraordinary businesses therein related; and to show them, as plain as the bool of a pint stoup, that each and everything set down by me within its boards is just as true, as that a blind man needs not spectacles, or that my name is Mansie Wauch. Perhaps as a person willing and anxious to give every man his due, it is necessary for me explicitly to mention, that, in the course of this book, I am indebted to my friend James Batter, for his able help in assisting me to spell the kittle words, and in rummaging out scraps of poem-books for headpieces to my different chapters which appear in the table of contents. LIST OF CONTENTS Preliminaries I. Our Old Grandfather, II. My Own Father, The weaver he gied up the stair, Dancing and singing; A bunch o’ bobbins at his back, Rattling and ringing. Old Song. III. Coming Into The World, —At first the babe Was sickly; and a smile was seen to pass Across the midwife’s cheek, when, holding up The feeble wretch, she to the father said, “A fine man-child!” What else could they expect? The father being, as I said before, A weaver. Hogg’s Poetic Mirror. IV. Calf-Love, Bonny lassie, will ye go, will ye go, will ye go, Bonny lassie, will ye go to the Birks of Aberfeldy? Burns. For a tailor is a man, a man, a man, And a tailor is a man. Popular Heroic Song. V. Cursecowl, From his red poll a redder cowl hung down; His jacket, if through grease we guess, was brown; A vigorous scamp, some forty summers old; Rough Shetland stockings up his thighs were roll’d; While at his side horn-handled steels and knives Gleam’d from his pouch, and thirsted for sheep’s lives. Odoherty’s Miscellanea Classica. VI. Pushing my Fortune, Oh, love, love, lassie, Love is like a dizziness, It winna let a puir bodie Gang about their business. James Hogg. VII. The Forewarning, I had a dream which was not all a dream. Byron. Coming events cast their shadows before. Campbell. VIII. Letting Lodgings, Then first he ate the white puddings, And syne he ate the black, O; Though muckle thought the Gudewife to hersell, Yet ne’er a word she spak, O. But up then started our Gudeman, And an angry man was he, O. Old Song. IX. Benjie’s Christening, We’ll hap and row, hap and row, We’ll hap and row the feetie o’t. It is a wee bit weary thing, I dinnie bide the greetie o’t. Provost Creech. An honest man, close button’d to the chin, Broad-cloth without, and a warm heart within. Cowper. This great globe and all that it inherits shall dissolve, And, like the baseless fabric of a vision, Leave not a rack behind. Shakespeare. X. The Resurrection Men, How then was the Devil drest! He was in his Sunday’s best; His coat was red, and his breeches were blue, With a hole behind where his tail came thro’. Over the hill, and over the dale, And he went over the plain: And backward and forward he switch’d his tail, As a gentleman switches his cane. Coleridge. XI. Taffy with the Pigtail, Song, Song of the South, School Recollections, Elegiac Stanzas, Dirge, In the sweet shire of Cardigan, Not far from pleasant Ivor-hall, An old man dwells, a little man; I’ve heard he once was tall. A long blue livery-coat has he, That’s fair behind and fair before; Yet, meet him where you will, you see At once that he is poor. Wordsworth. XII. Volunteering, Come from the hills where your hirsels are grazing, Come from the glen of the buck and the roe; Come to the crag where the beacon is blazing, Come with the buckler, the lance, and the bow: Many a banner spread Flutters above your head, Many a crest that is famous in story; Mount and make ready then, Sons of the mountain glen, Fight for the King, and our old Scottish glory. Sir Walter Scott’s Monastery. XIII. The Chincough Pilgrimage, Man hath a weary pilgrimage As through the world he wends: On every stage from youth to age Still discontent attends. With heaviness he casts his eye Upon the road before, And still remembers with a sigh The days that are no more. Southey. XIV. My Lord’s Races, Aff they a’ went galloping, galloping; Legs and arms a’ walloping, walloping; De’il take the hindmost, quo’ Duncan M’Calapin, The Laird of Tillyben, Joe. Old Song. He went a little further, And turn’d his head aside, And just by Goodman Whitfield’s gate, Oh there the mare he spied. He ask’d her how she did, She stared him in the face, Then down she laid her head again— She was in wretched case. Old Poulter’s Mo. XV. The Return, That sweet home is there delight, And thither they repair Communion with their own to hold! Peaceful as, at the fall of night, Two little lambkins gliding white Return unto the gentle air, That sleeps within the fold. Or like two birds to their lonely nest, Or wearied waves to their bay of rest, Or fleecy clouds when their race is run, That hang in their own beauty blest, ’Mid the calm that sanctifies the west Around the setting sun. Wilson. XVI. The Bloody Cartridge, So stands the Thracian herdsman with his spear Full in the gap, and hopes the hunted bear; And hears him in the rustling wood, and sees His course at distance by the bending trees; And thinks—Here comes my mortal enemy, And either he must fall in fight or I. Dryden’s Palamon and Arcite. Nay, never shake thy gory looks at me; Thou canst not say I did it! Macbeth. XVII. My First and Last Play, Pla. I’ faith I like the audience that frequenteth there With much applause: a man shall not be chokt With the stench of garlick, nor be pasted firm With the barmy jacket of a beer-brewer. Bra. ’Tis a good gentle audience, and I hope The boys will come one day in great request. Jack Drum’s Entertainment, 1601. Out cam the gudeman, and laigh he louted; Out cam the gudewife, and heigh she shouted; And a the toun-neibours gather’d about it; And there he lay, I trow. The Cauldrife Wooer. XVIII. The Barley Fever: and Rebuke, Sages their solemn een may steek, And raise a philosophic reek, And, physically, causes seek, In clime and season: But tell me Whisky’s name in Greek, I’ll tell the reason. Burns. XIX. The Awful Night, Ha!—’twas but a dream; But then so terrible, it shakes my soul! Cold drops of sweat hang on my trembling flesh; My blood grows chilly, and I freeze with horror, Richard the Third. The Fire-king one day rather amorous felt; He mounted his hot copper filly; His breeches and boots were of tin, and the belt Was made of cast-iron, for fear it should melt With the heat of the copper colt’s belly. Oh! then there was glitter and fire in each eye, For two living coals were the symbols; His teeth were calcined, and his tongue was so dry, It rattled against them as though you should try To play the piano on thimbles. Rejected Addresses. XX. Adventures in the Sporting Line, A fig for them by law protected, Liberty’s glorious feast; Courts for cowards were erected, Churches built to please the priest. Jolly Beggars. Wi’ cauk and keel I’ll win your bread, And spindles and whorles for them wha need, Whilk is a gentle trade indeed, To carry the Gaberlunzie on. I’ll bow my leg and crook my knee, And draw a black clout owre my ee, A cripple or blind they will ca’ me, While we shall be merry and sing. King James V. XXI. Anent Mungo Glen, “Earth to earth,” and “dust to dust,” The solemn priest hath said, So we lay the turf above thee now, And we seal thy narrow bed; But thy spirit, brother, soars away Among the faithful blest, Where the wicked cease from troubling, And the weary are at rest. Milman. XXII. The June Jaunt, The lapwing lilteth o’er the lea, With nimble wing she sporteth; By vows she’ll flee from tree to tree Where Philomel resorteth: By break of day, the lark can say, I’ll bid you a good-morrow, I’ll streik my wing, and mounting sing, O’er Leader hauchs and Yarrow. Nicol Burn, the Minstrel. XXIII. Catching a Tartar, Fr. Sol. O, prennez miséricorde! ayez pitié de moy! Pist. Moy shall not serve, I will have forty moys! For I will fetch my rim out at thy throat, In drops of crimson blood. Henry V. XXIV. James Batter and the Maid of Damascus, He chose a mournful muse Soft pity to infuse; He sung the Weaver wise and good, By too severe a fate, Fallen, fallen, fallen, fallen, Fallen from his high estate, And weltering in his blood. Dryden Revised. All close they met, all eves, before the dusk Had taken from the stars its pleasant veil, Close in a bower of hyacinth and musk, Unknown of any, free from whispering tale. Keats. XXV. A Philistine in the Coal-Hole, They steeked doors, they steeked yetts, Close to the cheek and chin; They steeked them a’ but a wee wicket, And Lammikin crapt in. Ballad of the Lammikin. Hame cam our gudeman at een, And hame cam he; And there he spied a man Where a man shouldna be. Hoo cam this man kimmer, And who can it be; Hoo cam this carle here, Without the leave o’ me? Old Song. XXVI. Benjie on the Carpet,