“The laird saw syne it had been Nick Contriv’d an’ carried on the trick, He pu’d the piper frae the moold That was in Peebles on him shool’d; An’ brought him to the braithel, where He left him dead wi’ sic a rair, That folk wad sworn they saw him shot That very instant on the spot. Auld Horny thought to gar him howd Upo’ the gallows, for the gowd He gat lang syne, an’ wadna set His signature to show the debt. But in his drift the Devil fail’d— The second time the laird prevail’d— Liv’d lang at hame, in wealth an’ ease, An’ dy’d at last of nae disease, But mere auld age—Renown’d his race Unto this day possess his place.” Why the poet should make the Evil One bring the body of a piper from Peebles to Kinghorn to serve his evil ends is a bit strange; and also how the Devil had but the two plans for encompassing the ruin of the laird. However, the poet’s license, especially when coupled with the supernatural, no doubt accounts for a great deal. Peebles seems to have had more than its share of pipers. James Ritchie, who flourished at the beginning of the eighteenth century, as piper to the Corporation of the town, was told one day by his wife that the flood in the Tweed had carried away their family cow, the fruit of years of piping. “Weel, weel,” said the piper, with manly calm, “deil ma care after a’. It cam’ wi’ the win’, let it gang wi’ the water.” Which is all the record we have of James. Pipers were, perhaps still are, a philosophic race, and their music was always their first thought. The town piper of Falkirk was sentenced to death for horse-stealing, and on the night before his execution he obtained, as a special indulgence, the company of some of his brother pipers. As the liquor was abundant and their instruments in tune, the fun and music grew fast and furious. The execution was to be at eight o’clock, and the poor piper was recalled to a sense of his situation by the morning light dawning on his window. Suddenly silencing his pipes, he exclaimed, “Oh, but this wearifu’ hanging rings in my lug like a new tune,” and went out to his fate. The piper of “Gallowshiels” is known to posterity principally by a poem entitled _The Maid of Gallowshiels_, in which the piper of the town is celebrated. The author was Hamilton of Bangour, and the poem tells of a contest between the piper and the fiddler for the love of the Maid of Gallowshiels. In the first book the fiddler challenges the piper to a trial of musical skill, and proposes that the maid herself shall be the umpire:—