what he saw and how he acted, holding thereby the mirror up to his own deformity, is elicited by an acquaintance asking him if he intended to go to Coquetdale again to the Guse Plays. His reply is as follows

666

:

6

"O aye, ye may swear that, ye may swear that. My friends Jacky Robson o' Barrow, Raff Bolam o' Clennel and Kit Cowson o' Warten wad be awfully disappointed if I didna visit them at the Chris'mas. O man! what a time we had o't last year, and what through-gangings! We garr'd the week last for ten days, and there was a guse play every night, and losh me, man, sic feasting! It was just roast and boiled for ever, and dumplins and puddings and pasties without number, and then sic lashins o' drink! O mån, O man! But the best sport of a' was at Harbittle at auld Jacky Common's. It was on a Friday's night there were fifteen geese to play for, and the players sat down exactly at six o'clock, and just as the clock warned for twal' the hin'most game was concludet. Jacky Robson had gotten twae geese, Kit Cowson three; neither Raff Bolam nor me had gotten ony. Nae less than eight out o' the fifteen was won by a little crouse, chantin chieldie o' the name o' Tom Fenwick. Says auld Jacky Common the landlord, 'now lads' says he, as yere through wiv the geese, and as its nit late yet, what wad ye think iv a play for a Scots haggis?' The vara thing, Jacky,' cried the hail company with a shout; dye, man, put the haggis on the board. Here's for ye then, my hearties,' cried Jacky, and down he sets a gayen sizeable gudely haggis, just new ta'en out o' the pot, the clear beads o' fat sweaten out o't and stannin ow'r't like drops o' morning dew. A single look o't was eneugh to make a hungry heart rejoice. Weel, the cards war dealt, the play began, and it wasna lang till the nashgob of a creature, Tom Fenwick, wins the haggis. 'Hurray, lads,' cries he, 'I'm lucky. Jacky, its a haggis 'ill ser' the hail company.' company,' said I, 'if it do, the company winna I've seen a hungry man that wad hae lent it a gude lift himsel'.' Wuns, Scotsman,' cries Tom, if thou'll eat the haggis theesel' there where thou sits, and have dune in an hour's time, I'll giv thee't, aye and a' my winnings the night into the bargain.' 'Haud out your hand, friend,' said I, 'I take the company to witness.' Sae he held out his hand, and the thing was choppit off. 'Now cut up the haggis, Jacky' said I, and bring me a horn spune-nane o' your pewter dirt, and I call upon the company to see fair play.' 'Jethert yet,' shouted the company, 'ye shall have fair play, Scotsman, for the sake o' your noble stomach.' Weel, I falls to the haggis like a day's work, it was a prime gude ane, baith fat and weel seasoned,—

6

6

Bring spunes, 'Ser the hail be ill to ser'.

6

and, my certy, I made few banes o't. When I was within half a score o' spunefuls o' being dune, I cries out to Jacky Common to fetch a quart o' yill, that I might synde my throat. Nit a drop,' cries the mean creature, Tom Fenwick, nit a drop; its nit i'th' bargain." 'If it binna ï' th' bargain' says I, that's just the reason ye canna hinder me to hae it, I refer to the company.' 'Jethert yet,' shouted the company again. Nothing but fair play! Jacky, bring the quart,-a gallon if he'll drink it.' Sae the quart was brought, and nae suner had I gotten a waught o' the yill than, my truly, I wasna lang in clawing off what remained o' the haggis. 'Now friend,' says I, just as I swallowed owre the last mouthfa' o' the bag, 'ye'll be sae gude as table the eight geese.' Aye table the geese, Tom cried the company all at once, every thing's been dune fairly, and the honest man shall have his bargain.' 'Here they ir then,' cries Tom, layin' the hail eight delightful creatures on the table,-'here they ir, I fancy I needna wish ye a stomach to eat them.''Na,' says I, 'ye may save yoursel' that trouble, friend; I'll excuse ye for that pairt o't. If ye had had the mense to offer me the quart o' yill when ye saw me in need o't, I wad ablins hae gi'en ye a guse back again, but as ye behaved sae shabbily, ye need expect naething if ye war gaspin-ye manna think to put tricks upon travellers, especially upon a man like me.' 'Jethert for ever!-dye, nought can gang wi' Jethert,' shouted the company again, and the creature, Tom, findin' what an a customer he'd gotten, hadna another word to say, but sneaket off like a tyke wi' a shangy on his tail. Sae I cam away, conqueror, wi' hail eight geese, gude anes they war. I wan other five by play, three at Rodbury, ane at Thropton, and ane at Snitter, by that means I had nae less than thirteen geese when I cam hame to Jethert. O man! what a shot it was! I canna expect to play sic a yin every year.""

Such festive occasions and mirthful meetings are now less and less observed, and ere long will in all probability be classed with things which are held only in remembrance. The introduction of roads through the most retired parts of the country-trade working its way, like water, through every channel where profit may be gained—the human race increasing, and individuals communicating more and more with each other-and the effect which railway conveyance has and will have, on the present and future generations,-all tend to erase, from men's minds, recollection and observance of what was done in bygone days. If the change make us more virtuous, it is well; but our forefathers, while they kept and devoted many times in the year to innocent amusement and jocund hilarity, were distinguished not less for simplicity of life, than for honesty of purpose, and adherence

to, and triumph of principle over selfish, worldly interests. These qualities made them renowned like "the invincible knights of old," and have called forth so much of our veneration, that we have given whatever pertained to them a place with the objects of our love,hence we cannot look upon the discontinuance of their "sports and pastimes" without regret,-such memorials being inwoven with our deepest and most cherished associations.-R. White's MSS.

EARL MORAY'S CAPTURE.

A Ballad.

HEN David, King of Scotland and son of the BRUCE, returned from France to his own territory about the year 1342, he was informed that in his absence, his people had suffered much from the insolence of England; and, raising a large army, he gave the command thereof to Randolph, earl of Moray, and made, by way of reprisal, a hostile incursion into that kingdom. Laying waste the villages through which they passed, the Scots reached the Tyne and forthwith besieged Newcastle. The command of the fortress at that time was entrusted to Sir John Neville, who would appear, from the following instance of martial skill and gallantry, to have been a brave and chivalrous knight. Taking advantage of a thunder storm, which occurred about midnight shortly after the arrival of the besiegers, the heroic leader sallied forth with two hundred spears-rushed into the enemy's camp-seized the Earl of Moray who was in bed-and brought him a prisoner into the town. This bold achievement aroused the most vindictive hostility on the part of the Scots, who renewed their assault on the barriers with great vigour; but owing to the promptitude and intrepidity of the defenders, they were beaten off, and compelled to raise the siege. Advancing southward, they exercised uncommon severity on the city of Durham-taking and reducing it to ashes, and putting to the sword the whole of its defenceless inhabitants.-Froissart. Brand. Dibdin's Northern Tour, &c.

The following ballad is a delineation, or rough sketch of what may be supposed to have taken place when Moray was made a prisoner; and is only given as an illustration to that fragment of local history.

EARL MORAY'S CAPTURE.

HE Scots upon Northumberland, like swarming locusts came;

Their path by tower and hamlet was marked

with smoke and flame;

Earl Moray led them on, and paused not till he came before
Newcastle's guarded walls, and these he has assaulted sore.
King David Bruce is in the camp ;-each man before his eyes
Endeavours boldly to perform some feat of high emprise :
Midway between the threatening towers a struggle they maintain;
They try to pierce the barriers, but find all efforts vain.

Sir John, the gallant Neville, of the fortress held command,
And round his floating banner thronged a brave and martial band-
True men who in the town's defence would stand or nobly die;
Would hurl each fierce invader back, or in its ruins lie.

A stirring day of warfare passed:-the sun's last troubled beam
Fell dimly o'er St. Nicholas' spire and Tyne's broad rushing stream;
Then rain came on and thunder growled, and the watchfires'
ruddy light,

With bolts of flame, glared wildly through the darkness of the night.

Out spake the noble Neville, amongst the warriors all,
As they in close discourse were set within his lofty hall:
"Methinks at such a time as this, it were a fitting thing,
To rush within the Scottish lines and try to seize their king.

Myself for one will venture: what numbers can we raise ?
The deed, though we should miss our mark, at least may gain
us praise,

And will a fair reprisal be on such a hated foe."
With one long shout the band arose and answered, "We will go!"

Then there were buckling on of arms, and rivetting of mail;
And prayers were breathed from female lips which fear had ren-
dered pale:

Sir John upon a charger black before the troop appears;
Their number when he marshalled them was twice an hundred spears.

From out dark Newgate's frowning arch they softly rode and slow;
No sound as they advance must rouse the unsuspecting foe;
But the storm was on their favour,-as near the camp they drew,
The drenching rain came pouring down, the wind more fiercely blew.

"Now every man for his good king, and for his lady's love,
Take out his blade and by its use his claim to honour prove,"
Thus spoke the Neville as he drew his broad and sweeping brand,
And forward rushed with lightning's speed amongst his eager band.
All opposition soon they cleared, and onward-onward went
O'er prostrate head and writhing limb, until, around the tent
Which proudly rose the highest, each reined his prancing steed:
Earl Moray, rouse thee-seize thy sword-defend thee-there is
need!!

The blood of four devoted guards was on the English steel;
The edge and force of Moray's blade three Englishmen did feel;
But ere another blow was dealt, the assailants closed around
The vengeful leader where he stood, and bore him to the ground.
Full soon they searched the tent, but found no other living wight;
The king resided there at day, but left it in the night:
Ah! this precaution served him well, for had he present been,
That very night his capture, or else his death had seen!

Upon a steed was Moray borne, and close on either side,
With watchful eye and ready hand a trusty knight did ride;
Each spear again was in its rest when thus Sir John did say ;
"Now are our foes awake and roused ;-come let us clear our way!"

As through the grove the whirlwind sweeps with all-subduing force,

The strongest oak, the tallest pine, uprooting in its course,
So through the serried, closing ranks of the fierce, unyielding foe,
Dispersing death on every hand, the English horsemen go.

Again beneath dark Newgate's arch are heard the horses feet;
Again advancing two abreast they issue on the street;

A thousand voices welcome them of loving maid and dame,
A thousand tongues, where'er they go, their bravery proclaim.

Then let us pledge, with honour due, the memory of those
Who captured thus at such an hour the leader of their foes;
And with us all remembered be the gallant Neville's name;
He nobly played a hero's part-be his a hero's fame!

R. W.