Robert Burns: How To Know Him Part 28

[18] Take three dishes; put clean water in one, foul water in another; and leave the third empty: blindfold a person, and lead him to the hearth where the dishes are ranged; he (or she) dips the left hand: if by chance in the clean water, the future husband or wife will come to the bar of matrimony, a maid: if in the foul, a widow; if in the empty dish, it foretells, with equal certainty, no marriage at all. It is repeated three times; and every time the arrangement of the dishes is altered.

[19] Sowens, with b.u.t.ter instead of milk to them, is always the Halloween supper.

In _The Twa Dogs_ we have an entirely different method. Burns here gives expression to his social philosophy in a contrast between rich and poor, and adds a quaint humor to his criticism by placing it in the mouths of the laird's Newfoundland and the cotter's collie. The dogs themselves are delightfully and vividly characterized, and their comments have a detachment that frees the satire from acerbity without rendering it tame. The account of the life of the idle rich may be that of a somewhat remote observer; it has still value as a record of how the peasant views the proprietor. But that of the hard-working farmer lacks no touch of actuality, and is part of the reverse side of the s.h.i.+eld shown in _The Cotter's Sat.u.r.day Night_. Yet the tone is not querulous, but echoes rather the quiet conviction that if toil is hard it has its own sweetness, and that honest fatigue is better than boredom.

THE TWA DOGS

'Twas in that place o' Scotland's Isle, That bears the name o' auld King Coil, Upon a bonnie day in June, When wearin' through the afternoon, Twa dogs, that werena thrang at hame, [busy]

Forgather'd ance upon a time. [Met]

The first I'll name, they ca'd him Caesar, Was keepit for his Honour's pleasure; His hair, his size, his mouth, his lugs, [ears]

Show'd he was nane o' Scotland's dogs, But whalpit some place far abroad, [whelped]

Where sailors gang to fish for cod.

His locked, letter'd, braw bra.s.s collar, Shew'd him the gentleman and scholar;

But though he was o' high degree, The fient a pride, nae pride had he; [devil]

But wad hae spent are hour caressin'

E'en wi' a tinkler-gipsy's messan: [mongrel]

At kirk or market, mill or smiddie, [smithy]

Nae tawted tyke, though e'er sae duddie, [matted cur, ragged]

But he wad stand as glad to see him, An' stroan'd on stanes an' hillocks wi' him. [lanted]

The t.i.ther was a ploughman's collie, [other]

A rhyming, ranting, raving billie; [fellow]

Wha for his friend and comrade had him, And in his freaks had Luath ca'd him, After some dog in Highland sang, Was made lang syne--Lord knows how lang.

He was a gash an' faithfu' tyke, [wise, dog]

As ever lap a sheugh or d.y.k.e; [leapt, ditch, wall]

His honest sonsie, bawsent face [pleasant, white-marked]

Aye gat him friends in ilka place, [every]

His breast was white, his tousie back [s.h.a.ggy]

Weel clad wi' coat o' glossy black: His gawsie tail, wi' upward curl, [joyous]

Hung o'er his hurdles wi' a swirl. [b.u.t.tocks]

Nae doubt but they were fain o' ither, [glad]

And unco pack and thick thegither; [intimate]

Wi' social nose whyles snuff'd and snowkit; Whyles mice and moudieworts they howkit; [moles, dug]

Whyles scour'd awa in lang excursion, And worried ither in diversion; Until wi' daffin' weary grown, [merriment]

Upon a knowe they sat them down, [knoll]

And there began a lang digression About the lords of the creation.

CAESAR

I've aften wonder'd, honest Luath, What sort o' life poor dogs like you have; An' when the gentry's life I saw, What way poor bodies liv'd ava. [at all]

Our Laird gets in his racked rents, His coals, his kain, and a' his stents; [rent in kind, dues]

He rises when he likes himsel'; His flunkies answer at the bell: He ca's his coach; he ca's his horse; [calls]

He draws a bonny silken purse As lang's my tail, where, through the steeks, [st.i.tches]

The yellow-letter'd Geordie keeks. [guinea peeps]

Frae morn to e'en it's nought but toiling At baking, roasting, frying, boiling; And though the gentry first are stechin', [cramming]

Yet e'en the ha' folk fill their pechan [servants, belly]

Wi' sauce, ragouts, and sic like trashtrie, [rubbish]

That's little short o' downright wastrie. [waste]

Our whipper-in, wee blast.i.t wonner! [wonder]

Poor worthless elf! it eats a dinner Better than ony tenant man His Honour has in a' the lan'; An' what poor cot-folk pit their painch in, [put, paunch]

I own it's past my comprehension.

LUATH

Trowth, Caesar, whyles they're fash'd eneugh; [troubled]

A cottar howkin' in a sheugh, [digging, ditch]

Wi' dirty stanes biggin' a d.y.k.e, [building, wall]

Baring a quarry, and sic like; [clearing]

Himsel', a wife, he thus sustains, A smytrie o' wee duddy weans, [brood, ragged children]

And nought but his han'-darg to keep [hand-labor]

Them right and tight in thack and rape. [thatch, rope]

And when they meet wi' sair disasters, [sore]

Like loss o' health, or want o' masters, Ye maist wad think, a wee touch langer [almost]

And they maun starve o' cauld and hunger; [must]

But how it comes I never kent yet. [knew]

They're maistly wonderfu' contented; An' buirdly chiels and clever hizzies [stout lads, girls]

Are bred in sic a way as this is.

CAESAR

But then, to see how ye're negleckit, How huff'd, and cuff'd, and disrespeckit, Lord, man! our gentry care sae little For delvers, ditchers and sic cattle; They gang as saucy by poor folk As I wad by a stinking brock. [badger]

I've noticed, on our Laird's court-day, An' mony a time my heart's been wae.

Poor tenant bodies, scant o' cash, How they maun thole a factor's snash; [endure, abuse]

He'll stamp and threaten, curse and swear, He'll apprehend them; poind their gear: [seize, property]

While they maun stan', wi' aspect humble, [must]

An' hear it a', an' fear an' tremble!

I see how folk live that hae riches; But surely poor folk maun be wretches!

LUATH

They're no' sae wretched's ane wad think, Though constantly on poort.i.th's brink: [poverty's]

They're sae accustom'd wi' the sight, The view o't gi'es them little fright.

Then chance and fortune are sae guided, They're aye in less or mair provided; An' though fatigued wi' close employment, A blink o' rest's a sweet enjoyment.

The dearest comfort o' their lives, Their grus.h.i.+e weans an' faithfu' wives; [growing]

The prattling things are just their pride, That sweetens a' their fireside.

And whyles twalpenny-worth o' nappy [quart of ale]

Can mak the bodies unco happy; [wonderfully]

They lay aside their private cares To mind the Kirk and State affairs: They'll talk o' patronage and priests, Wi' kindling fury in their b.r.e.a.s.t.s; Or tell what new taxation's comin', And ferlie at the folk in Lon'on. [wonder]

As bleak-faced Hallowmas returns They get the jovial rantin' kirns, [harvest-homes]

When rural life o' every station.

Unite in common recreation; Love blinks, Wit slaps, and social Mirth Forgets there's Care upo' the earth.

That merry day the year begins They bar the door on frosty win's; The nappy reeks wi' mantling ream [ale, foam]

And sheds a heart-inspiring steam; The luntin' pipe and snees.h.i.+n'-mill [smoking, snuff-box]