_Remarks On Glasgow._

[The following is what may be termed a ‘Chap-book Version’ of John Highlandman’s Remarks on Glasgow. It is taken from a chap-book published anonymously in Glasgow in 1823. In no material respect does it differ from the other copies still to be found. M‘Vean was the first to attribute the verses to Graham. The assumption has generally been that in point of time this is one Graham’s earliest productions, after his History of the Rebellion, and it is certainly the most popular of his metrical pieces. It furnishes an interesting description of Glasgow about the middle of last century.]

JOHN HIGHLANDMAN’S REMARKS ON GLASGOW.

Her nainsel into Glasgow went, An errand there to see’t, And she never saw a bonnier town Standing on her feet.

For a’ the houses that be tere Was theekit wi’ blue stane, And a stane ladder to gang up, No fa’ to break her banes.

I gang upon a stany road, A street they do him ca’, And when me seek the chapman’s house, His name be on the wa’.

I gang to buy a snish tamback, And standing at the corse, And tere I see a dead man, Was riding on his horse.

And O! he be a poor man, And no hae muny claes, Te brogues be worn aff his feet, And me see a’ his taes.

Te horse had up his muckle fit For to gie me a shap, And gaping wi’ his great mouth To grip me by the tap.

He had a staff into his hand, To fight me an’ he coud, But hersel be rin awa frae him, His horse be unco proud.

But I be rin around about, And stand about the guard, Where I see the deil chap the hours, Tan me grew unco feared.

Ohon! Ohon! her nainsel said, And whare will me go rin? For yonder be the black man That bums the fouk for sin.

I’ll no pe stay nae langer tere, But fast me rin awa, And see the man thrawin te rapes Aside te Broomielaw.

An’ O she pe a lang tedder, I spier’t what they’ll do wi’t, He said to hang the Highlandmen For stealing o’ their meat.

Hout, hersel’s an honest shentleman, I never yet did steal, But when I meet a muckle purse, I like it unco weel.

Tan fare ye weel ye saucy fellow, I fain your skin wad pay; I cam to your toun the morn but, An’ I’ll gang out yesterday.

Fan I gang to my quarter-house, The door was unco braw, For here they had a cow’s husband, Was pricked on the wa’.

O tere me got a shapin ale, An’ ten me got a supper, A filthy choud o’ chappit meat Boiled amang a butter.

It was a filthy dirt o’ beef, His banes was like te horn, She was a calf wanting the skin, Before that she was born.

I gang awa into the kirk To hear a Lawland preach, And mony a bonny sang they sing, Tere books they did them teach.

And tere I saw a bonny mattam, Wi’ feathers on her waim, I wonder an’ she be gaun to flee, Or what be in her myn.

Another mattams follow her, Wha’s arse was round like cogs! And clitter clatter cries her feet-- She had on iron brogues.

And tere I saw another mattam Into a tarry seck, And twa mans pe carry her, Wi’ rapes about hims neck.

She pe sae fou o’ vanity, As no gang on the grun, But twa poor mans pe carry her In a barrow covert aboon.

Some had a fish-tail to their mouth, And some pe had a ponnet, But my Janet and Donald’s wife Wad rather hae a bannock.