Fiddlers! your pins in temper fix,
And roset weel your fiddlesticks;
But banish vile Italian tricks

Frae out our quorum;

Nor fortes wi' pianos mix:

Gi'e's Tullochgorum.

For nought can cheer the heart sae weel,

As can a canty Highland reel;

It even vivifies the heel

To skip and dance:

Lifeless is he wha canna feel

Its influence.

Let mirth abound; let social cheer
Invest the dawnin' o' the year;
Let blithesome Innocence appear,

To crown our joy;

Nor Envy, wi' sarcastic sneer,

Our bliss destroy.

And thou, great god o' Aquavitae !
Wha sway'st the empire o' this city;
Whan fu', we're sometimes capernoity1;
Be thou prepared

To hedge us frae that black banditti,
The city guard.

I irritable, peevish.

JOHN DUNLOP.

1755-1820.

A sweet singer who was also a successful merchant, John Dunlop was born at Carmyle House, his father's residence, in the parish of Old Monkland, near Glasgow. A typical Glasgow citizen, social and hospitable, he took much pleasure in listening to Scottish songs, and could sing them himself to good effect. He was author of a considerable quantity of verse-two volumes of which he printed privately (only ten copies) in 1817-1819and is said to have left four manuscript volumes of poetry. He was chosen Lord Provost of Glasgow in 1796, and was Collector of Customs at Port-Glasgow when he died. His son, who was Sheriff of Renfrewshire, and who is remembered as the author of a History of Fiction, printed privately a further small collection of Dunlop's pieces (fifty copies) in 1836. Four of Dunlop's songs were included in "The Modern Scottish Minstrel" of Dr. C. Rogers in 1857.

OH! DINNA ASK ME GIN I

LO'E

THEE.

OH! dinna ask me gin I lo'e thee,

Troth, I dar'na tell:
Dinna ask me gin I lo❜e ye—
Ask it o' yoursel'.

Oh! dinna look sae sair at me,

For weel ye ken me true:

Oh, gin ye look sae sair at me,
I dar'na look at you!

OH! DINNA ASK ME GIN I LO'E THEE.

When ye gang to yon braw, braw toun,
And bonnier lassies see,

Oh, dinna, Jamie, look at them,

Lest you should mind na me !

For I could never bide the lass
That ye'd lo'e mair than me;

And oh, I'm sure my heart would break
Gin ye'd prove false to me!

139

THE YEAR THAT'S AWA'.

HERE'S to the year that's awa'!

We will drink it in strong and in sma'; And here's to ilk bonnie young lassie we lo'ed, While swift flew the year that's awa'.

And here's to ilk, etc.

Here's to the sodger who bled,

And the sailor who bravely did fa';

Their fame is alive though their spirits are fled On the wings of the year that's awa'.

Their fame is alive, etc.

Here's to the friends we can trust

When the storms of adversity blaw;

May they live in our song and be nearest our hearts,

Nor depart like the year that's awa'.

May they live, etc.

MRS. GRANT OF LAGGAN.

1755-1838.

Anne M'Vicar, the daughter of an officer in a Highland regiment, was descended on the mother's side from the Stewarts of Invernahyle in Argyleshire. Shortly after her birth at Glasgow her father's regiment was ordered to the British colonies in America, where it took part in the conquest of Canada. Some years later, M'Vicar resigned his commission, and acquired a considerable estate in Vermont. Compelled by ill-health, however, to return to Scotland in 1768, he was deprived of his estate by the breaking out of the revolutionary war, and was reduced to depend on an appointment as barrackmaster at Fort Augustus in Glen More. There in 1779 Miss M'Vicar was married to the Rev. James Grant, the military chaplain, who was related to some of the best families in Badenoch. On his marriage, Grant accepted the parish of Laggan near Fort Augustus, and there he remained incumbent for twenty-two years.

On her husband's death in 1801, Mrs. Grant found herself considerably in debt, and with eight surviving children dependent on her. The energy, however, which had induced her to fit herself for the position of wife of a Highland minister by learning Gaelic, now came to her aid, and she took a farm. Presently the publication of a volume of poems enabled her to clear off her debts, and, removing first to Stirling, and afterwards to Edinburgh, she devoted herself entirely to literature. In 1806 she published, under the title of "Letters from the Mountains," a collection of the letters which she had written to friends from the manse of Laggan. This brought her considerable reputation, and was followed by "Memoirs of an American Lady," "Essays on the Superstitions of the Highlanders," and other works. In 1825 she received a pension of £100, which, with several legacies from friends, and the profits of her pen, secured her a modest independence. In Edinburgh her house became one of the chief resorts of men of letters like Lord Jeffrey, Henry Mackenzie, and Sir Walter Scott, among whom she was famous both for her literary accomplishment and for the brilliance of her conversation. For a time, indeed, owing to her knowledge of Highland character, custom, and legend, and her power of depicting them, she was thought to be the author of "Waverley" and "Rob Roy."