But here my muse must faster flutter, ’Tis scarce within her power to utter How RANNIE leapt, and twirled, and flung (A supple jade she was and young), And how WEG stood like one bewitched, How his eyes gleamed, how his mouth twitched. Even Satan glowered as though in pain, And puffed and blew with might and main, Till with one caper and another, No longer WEG his words could smother, But roars out “Well danced, Cutty Sark!” When in a moment all was dark; And scarce his mare and he had rallied When out the yelling legion sallied. As bees buzz round a sugar-tub, Or workmen round an opening “pub,” As M.P.’s rush to chase the grouse When Prorogation clears the House, So the mare runs, the witches follow, With many an eldritch shriek and hollow. Ah, WEG! ah, WEG! they’re nearing, nearing, Like hounds on trail of a red herring. Midlothian, WEG, awaits thy coming; They’ll think you’re lost, dear WEG, or humming, Now, ride thy very hardest, WEG! If the bridge key-stane fees her leg, Thy mare at them her tail may toss,―― That running stream they cannot cross. But ere the key-stone she could make, The deuce a tail had she to shake, For Nickie, far before the rest, Hard on that nag so nimble prest, And flew at WEG with hope to settle; But little knew he that mare’s mettle. One spring brought WEG off safe and hale, But left behind her own grey tail; For with NICK’S pull and the mare’s jump, WEG’S nag was left with ne’er a stump! _Punch_, August 16, 1884. ―――― “HERE’S A HEALTH.” Here’s a health to them that’s awa, Here’s a health to them that’s awa, And wha winna wish guid luck to our cause, May never guid luck be their fa’! It’s guid to be merry and wise, It’s guid to be honest and true, It’s guid to support Caledonia’s cause, And bide by the bonnets of blue. Here’s a health to them that’s awa, Here’s a health to them that’s awa, Here’s a health to Charlie, the chief o’ the clan, Although that his band be sae sma.’ Hurrah for the bonnets of blue Hurrah for the bonnets of blue It is guid to support Caledonia’s cause, And bide by the bonnets of blue. Here’s freedom to him that would read, Here’s freedom to him that would write, There’s nane ever feared that the truth should be heard, But they who the truth would indite. Hurrah for the bonnets of blue, Hurrah for the bonnets of blue, It’s guid to be wise, to be honest and true, And bide by the bonnets of blue. The above is a modern Jacobite song, author unknown. The original song from which it was taken is old, and was altered by Allan Ramsay and Burns, and several verses added. This version of it was very popular, and the following is a parody of it.