Of this I know nothing-nor can I surmise
How or where he grew up to such hideous size,—
For I ne'er heard his name till he first got the prize
As the wonderful Gander of Glasgow,

The King of the Geese of the West.

But henceforth behold him in Glasgow's fair town,
Full fraught with the thoughts of his well-fed renown,-
His head held on high, and his rump drooping down,
The great prize Gander of Glasgow-

The pride of the Geese of the West.

The old Roman Gander that guarded the state,
Was not more absurdly majestic in gait,

Than once was the gander that lies on that plate,—
The great hirpling Gander of Glasgow,

The great cackling Goose of the West.

There was surely in Nature no sight so absurd
As the aspect of this most preposterous bird—
And surely no gabble was ever yet heard

Like that of the Gander of Glasgow,
The great gabbling Goose of the West.

With pinions half-folded his course see him steer!
Oh! if any one sight more grotesque could appear
Than the Gander in front, 'twas the Gander in rear-
The rear of the Gander of Glasgow,
The rump of the Goose of the West!

This ponderous creature of mud and of mire,
Always looked as he'd set the Guse-dubs upon fire;
So absurd in his pride, and so fierce in his ire,
Was the great hissing Gander of Glasgow,
The preposterous Goose of the West!

Full many a bout had the BUBBLY1 and he,

For their trades were so like they could never agree,
And their gabbling and gobbling 'twas fearful to see,
Alarming the Gorbals of Glasgow,
The peace of the Queen of the West.

1 Bubbly-turkey-cock.

222

OH, THE GREAT GANDER OF GLASGOW!

The Damsels of Glasgow were stricken with fear,
And fled in dismay when the Gander was near,—
And his LEDA herself must have hated the leer
Of the odious Gander of Glasgow,

The ill-favoured Goose of the West!

Then, vain as he was, how he showed his poor spite
To each bird of a nobler and loftier flight,
Whose region of glory lay far out of sight

Of the blear-eyed Gander of Glasgow,—
The great gaping Goose of the West.

Have you e'er seen a dunce whose unfortunate lot
Is to rail at the laurels of Southey or Scott?
You almost might swear that a hint he had got
From the envious Gander of Glasgow,—
The pitiful Goose of the West.

And whenever you hear such a dunce's abuse,
The cause is the same, and the same the excuse;
"He's only a Gander, the son of a Goose,

Like him of the Gorbals of Glasgow,—

The foul-feeding Goose of the West.”

Thus lived the great Gander;-but this could not last,
And a gloom o'er the Guse-dubs at length there was cast,
For his days they were numbered-the sentence was passed,
That silenced the Gander of Glasgow,
The ill-fated Goose of the West!

For the Agent of AMBROSE, who lived in the place,
Had his eye on the bird, as the chief of his race,-
And resolved that his carcass THE NOCTES should grace,
For the glory of Geese and of Glasgow,

The much-boasted Queen of the West!

'Twould offend against taste, and might shock the humane,
To tell how the Gander was put out of pain;
And the plucking and basting we need not explain,
Of the ribs of the Gander of Glasgow-

The great greasy Goose of the west.

He had not been placed on the spit very long,

When Ambrose suspected that something was wrong,—
For he ne'er smelt a Goose so confoundedly strong

HOW SWEET THE SNUGGERY!

As the nauseous Gander of Glasgow,
The rank-smelling Goose of the West!

And now he's cut up, and his breast is laid bare,
Oh! what foulness, and rankness, and rottenness there!
'Twould sicken the patron of Burke and of Hare
To look on the Gander of Glasgow,

The hideous Goose of the West!

Now with conduct and carcass so much of a piece,
What are we to think of this foulest of Geese,
But that some Glasgow Whig must have taken a lease
Of the name of "The Gander of Glasgow,"

The King of the Geese of the West!

"Tis hard to believe, in this sceptical age,

In migration of souls, like the Samian sage;

But the soul of some Whig, in corruption's last stage,
Must have dwelt in the Gander of Glasgow,

The unfortunate Goose of the West!

223

Shepherd. Haw! haw! haw! was that really, sir, an extempora wneous imprompty?

North. Sung on the spur of the instant, I assure you, James. Indeed, how would it be otherwise? For Ambrose had provided for me an after-piece, which he thought would be "The Agreeable Surprise

Tickler. To follow "The Cock of the North," a mellow dram in three caulkers

Shepherd. No that unwutty, Tickler.

North. Nor could my prophetic soul anticipate the Gander. But next Noctes, I promise you a more regular and finished performance.

Tickler. Some epigrams.

North. And epitaphs, Tickler; epithalamia and epicediadifferent kinds of composition-though old Pirie of the Morning Chronicle thought them one and the same

Tickler. And sung commonly at christenings.

North. But now, gentlemen, we must be toddling-
Shepherd-

"Roun' as a neep1 we'll gang toddlin hame."

Hoo sweet the Snuggery! Nae noxious air can lang pol

1 Neep-turnip.

lute its pure privacy, ventilated, at a' seasons, wi' the breath o' humanest merriment.

North. Yes, James, again "the air smells wooingly."
Shepherd. As in a heather dell.

North. Lo, a red-deer!

[North bounds over the circular like a Stag-of-Ten. Shepherd (holding up his hands). Wonnerfu' auld man! [TICKLER leaps upon the SHEPHERD's shoulders, and the scene shifts to the street.

XXX.

(APRIL 1831.)

Scene, The Snuggery. Time,-Nine o'clock. Present, NORTH, TICKLER, and SHEPHERD.-Tea, Coffee, Caulkers, &c. &c. &c.

Shepherd. Receet the passage again, sir-for oh! but it's beautifu', and I couldna hae believed that it was Milton's. Tickler. Milton is worth all your modern poets in a lump, were you to multiply them by

Shepherd. But we shanna put them a' into a lump, Mr Tickler -nor multiply their multiplicand by any multiplicawtor whatsomever; for I hae nae notion o' slumpin inspiration in that gate, a sair injustice to a' individual Genie. Let ilka poet, great and sma', staun' on his ain feet, and no be afeared o' the takin o' his altitude, by quadrants in the hauns o' geometrical critics -excepp them that sits on ane anither's knees, and they may just keep sittin there; and them that tries to owertap their betters, by getting theirsels hoisted up upon stools or tables -to say little or naething o' twa-three mair wha shall be nameless, that speels up the backs o' the brither-bards, and look proudly alang the heads o' the crood, seemingly higher by head and shouthers than their supporters and elevators, but wha are sure to get a fa' at last—and then, wae's me! they're trampled aneath hoofs, and never mair recover either their hats or their laurels. But receet the passage again, Mr North.

(NORTH recites.)

"Now came still evening on, and twilight grey
Had in her sober livery all things clad.

Silence accompanied-for bird and beast,

They to their grassy couch, these to their nests,

VOL. III.

P