THE THOMAS GRAY. THE late Thomas Gray acted for nearly a quarter of a century as teacher of the youth of Carnoustie. From personal knowledge we can affirm that never was master more beloved of his pupils; and it would be difficult indeed to find an educational or social career more creditable than that whose latter stage was furnished by several large public schools, and the varied society of the city of Glasgow. Mr Gray was born at Lochee somewhere in the early "twenties," served for a few years in the office of a Dundee lawyer, had a school for a short time in Arbroath, and was transferred, while in his young manhood, to be teacher of the Free Church School at Carnoustie. In educational, church, and social matters his influence became dominant in the district: he overflowed with wit, was irresistible as a story-teller, and the recitation of his own poems is spoken of as something memorable by the friends of his brighter years. Mr Gray removed to Glasgow in 1875, and his death occurred there a few years ago. His poetical pieces are now sadly scattered or lost; but we invite attention to one of the best of them, a poem which many will cherish for the sake of their old preceptor and friend. THE MOANING OF THE TAY. Away, ye raging waves, and bring My lover back to me. They tell me he will soon be here, And bid my heart be gay; But can they banish from my ear "The wind blew softly from the west The sun sank sweetly to his rest, And many a storm has blown since then, And oh that doleful sound again The moaning of the Tay. "Last night I had a fearful dream: I paced this weary shore, I heard the sea-bird's warning scream, I met my true love waiting me, To learn her hapless lover's fate, And watch him come to land : A form came drifting to her feet The white-foam for his winding-sheet, She fondly clasped him to her breast, No more to hear, in love's unrest, THIS DAVID LUNDIE GREIG. HIS writer of poems which indicate at once a sweet refinement of taste, and that genuine sympathy with nature and experience which mark the born singer, is freely claimed both by Dundee and Arbroath, though the balance of favour lies with the town of his early and later adoption. Indeed, there is a third Richmond in the field; for Edinburgh was his birthplace, though but little more, as, with his family, the future poet removed to Arbroath in 1838, and when he was but one year old. The story of his early training is simply that of many another of our stout-hearted sons of toil; scant education, domestic suffering and sorrow, and work in the mills, were his introduction to real life; and his apprenticeship to the blacksmith trade the key-note to its future pursuits. On becoming a journeyman, Mr Greig entered the service of Messrs Baxter Brothers, Dundee, and remained in their employment, at Den's Mills, for thirty-four years He has returned to Arbroath, where he holds the important position of Officer to St. Paul's U.P. Church; and in both of the communities where he has lived and laboured it would be difficult to find a worthier citizen, or one more sincerely respected. A striking evidence of this was given in 1892, and in connection with the well-known Arbroath-Dundee publication, "Pastime Musings." This volume contains a selection of poems by three contributors; Mr Greig, Mr John Paul --who was mainly responsible for its appearance - and Mr David Tasker. Sympathy for Mr Greig's repeated and heavy family bereavements, and with the infirm state of his own health, was so active that over 2000 copies of the book were subscribed for, and over £100 thus made available towards the laudable object of aiding and encouraging a deserving sufferer. We select our examples of the work of this brotherly trio mainly from this interesting volume, which, on its merits alone, is a valuable contribution to the poetic literature of the county. THE CALLER MOSSY WELL. Aft when a bairn I'd watch it run, An' listen to its tune; An' wonder when it took a rest, An' if it wad rin dune: Or wi' a flagon swingin' round My heid-wi' laddie glee Rin for the Mossy water To mak' my mither's tea : An' when I raxed beyond my teens, I'd gang to meet the lassies In memory will dwell, For laddie ploys an' lover's joys 'Twas grand to seize the pitchers An' though our pows are growin' gray I think I see the bonny brae, The caller Mossy Well MY AE BAIRN. Six bonnie bairnies aince I had, But God's been guid; He's left me ane Then as her bonnie black pow lies She keeks at mither, then she says: An' though I ken weel what she means, For it's just another way she has Then when we're saired, an' mither lays My bairnie says, "Noo tak your smoke, An' stories tell to me, 'Bout trees an' flowers, bricht summer days, An' what I'll maybe be." Wi' winderin' looks she sits an' hears O' auld lang syne, an' things to come, An' when my stories are a' tell'd, She claps her hands, an' cries- Then mither sweetly joins wi' me, An' like a soond frae heaven abune, Makin' me think I'm aff the earth, But sune the "sleepy beasties" come We hear her say her little wirds An' pray that He wha blest the bairns JAMES GREIG. JAMES AMES GREIG is one of the cluster of poets whose names are associated with the old red town of Aberbrothock. He was born just under the shadow of "The Auld Roond O"-that landmark so dear to the hearts of Arbroathians-in the beginning of 1861. Schooldays were soon past with boys in humble homes, and young Greig found himself at a very early age amid the dust and noise of the hackling machines in one of the local linen. manufactories. But, as he says in one his poems, Within the walls (which are far from bright) Of the dinsome factorie Are souls lit up with the lustrous light From the fires of poesy; And day by day, to beguile the hours, In a joyous mood they sing Of love, and hope, and the wayside flowers, Till the dusty rafters ring. Mr Greig was one of those "souls that sing;" and during his experience as a worker within the realm of flax and canvas he sang those delightfully turned verses, which, under the title, "Poems and Songs," were published in 1887. The limner's gift was his also; and, though he delighted in Poetry and Art for their own sakes, as he grew to manhood he found himself able to add to his income by the use of his pencil. In 1887 his friend Mr J. B. Salmond of the Arbroath Herald gave him a a position on the staff of his journal; two years later he went up to London and very soon won his way to the confidence of several London editors. His first big commission was to illustrate a novel by Baring-Gould for The Queen. He now sketches for several leading publishers, and his drawings are to be found in nearly all the leading magazines. Two years spent in Paris have widened his knowledge and enlarged his artistic resources. During his sojourn in Paris he acted as Parisian representative of Black and White, and fulfilled other important commissions. Through it all he remained, and still remains, the same frank, kindly soul that speaks to one in the pages of his "Poems and Songs." His poetic gifts have helped him greatly as an artist-many of his pictures are poems; and it may be said of many of his poems that they are pictures. For example: A ALEXANDER GREWAR. POET with an inveterate hatred of seeing his productions in print is, in the popular conception at least, something of a rarity; but the type is by no means so uncommon as is imagined. To it Alexander Grewar belonged; and with the result, that only a few of the effusions taken down from his recital survive, the rest having found that oblivion decreed them by supersensitiveness. He was born at Dalnamer, Glenisla, in 1815, worked during life as a tailor, and died while residing with a son at Glasgow in 1894. A romantic episode in his life deserves to be stated here. His mother, Margaret Robertson, was a great-grand-daughter of General Reid (or Robertson), who founded and endowed the Chair of Music in Edinburgh University, and who left a fortune of £50,000 to his daughter. The extinction of Baron Robertson's lineal descent was Alexander Grewar's opportunity, and he pursued it strenuously, but unsuccessfully, in an attempt to prove his elder brother next of kin and heir to this wealth. Mr David Grewar, of Glenisla, has for some time been engaged in collecting the poems of his relative; and these, with a memoir, may soon secure the permanency of book publication. Our specimen deals in an attractive manner with a phase of local superstition, which affirms that a mermaid haunts the infant waters of the Isla in Caenlochan Glen. This lady, |