SHEPHERD AND TICKLER DISTANCED.

291

three drawn up, and just as you was gaun out o' sicht atween the pillars, Tickler and me ran foul o' ane anither at the nor❜east end o' the circular. There was nae faut on either side there, and am no blamin him, except for ackwardness, which was aiblins mutual. As sune's we had gotten disentangled, we entered by look o' ee, if no word o' mouth, intil a social compact to rin roun' opposite sides o' the table-which we did—and in proof that neither of us had gained an inch on the ither, no sooner had we rounded the south-west cape, than together came we wi' sic a clash, that I thocht we had been baith killed on the spat. There was nae faut on either side there, ony mair than there had been at the nor'-east; but then began his violation o' a' honour; for ha'in succeeded in shovin mysel aff, I was makin for the fauldin-doors-due west-ettlin for the inside, to get a short turn-when whuppin and spurrin like mad, what does he do, but charge me richt on the flank, and drive me, as I said afore, several yards aff the coorse, towards the bow-window, where I was necessitated to fetch a circumbendibus that wad hae lost me the race had I ridden Eclipse. Ca' ye that fair? But it was agreed that we were to be guided by the law of Newmarket, sae I'll refer the haill affair to the Jockey Club.

Tickler. Hear me for a moment, sir. True, we got entangled at the nor❜-west-most true at the sou'-west came we together with a clash. But what means the Shepherd by shoving off? Why, sir, he caught hold of my right arm as in a vice, so that I could make no use of that member, while, at the same time, he locked me into his own rear, and then away he went like a two-year-old, having, as he vainly dreamt, the race in hand by that manœuvre, so disgraceful to the character of the carpet. North. If you please turf.

Tickler. Under such circumstances, was I to consider myself bound by laws which he himself had broken and reduced to a dead letter? No. My subsequent conduct he has accurately described, off the course-for we have a bit of speed in us-I drove him; but as for the circumbendibus in the bow-window, we must believe that on his own word.

Shepherd. And daur you, sir, or ony man breathin' to dout ma word

North. Be calm, gentlemen. The dispute need not be referred to the Club; for, consider you were nowhere. Shepherd. Eh?

North. You were both distanced.

Shepherd. Baith distanced! Hoo? Where's the post?
North. The door-post of the Snuggery.

Shepherd. Baith our noses were through afore you had reached the rug. I'll tak ma Bible-oath on't. Werena they,

Tickler?

Tickler. Both.

North. Not a soul of you entered this room for several seconds after I had dismounted

Shepherd. After ye had dismounted? Haw! haw! haw! Tickler! North confesses he had dismounted afore he was weighed and has thereby lost the race. Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! Noo, ours was a dead heat-so let us divide the stakes

Tickler. With all my heart; but we ran for the Gold Cup. Shepherd. Eh! sae we did, man; and yonner it's on the sideboard-a bonny bit o' bullion. Let's keep it year about; and, to prevent ony hargle-barglin about it, let the first turn be mine; oh! but it 'll do wee Jamie's heart gude to glower on't stannin aside the siller punch-bowl I got frae my friend Mr What's the matter wi' ye, Mr North? What for sae doun i' the mouth? Why fret sae at a trifle?

North. No honour can accrue from a conquest achieved by a quirk.

Shepherd. Nor dishonour frae defeat ;-then "prithee why so pale, wan lover? prithee why so pale?"

Tickler. I can hardly credit my senses when I hear an old sportsman call that a quirk, which is in fact one of the foundation-stones of the law of Racing.

Shepherd. I maun gang back for ma shoon.

North. Your shoon?

Shepherd. Ay, ma shoon-I flung them baith in Mr Tickler's face-for which I noo ask his pardon-when he ran me aff the coorse

Tickler. No offence, my dear James, for I returned the compliment with both snuff-boxes

North. Oh! ho! So you who urge against me the objection of having dismounted before going to scale, both confess that you flung away weight during the race!

Shepherd. Eh? Mr Tickler, answer him—

Tickler. Do, James.

Shepherd (scratching his head with one hand, and stroking his chin with the other). We've a' three won, and we've a' three lost. That's the short and the lang o't- sae the Cup maun staun' ower till anither trial.

North. Let it be decided now. From Snuggery to Saloon. Shepherd. What? after frae Saloon to Snuggery? That would be reversin the order o' nature. Besides, we maun a' three be unco dry-sae let's turn to, till the table—and see what's to be had in the way o' drink. What'n frutes?

North. These are Ribstons, James-a pleasant apple-
Shepherd. And what's thir?

North. Golden pippins.

Hogg. Sic jargonels! shaped like peeries-and yon Auchans1 (can they be ripe?) like taps. And what ca' ye thae, like great big fir-cones wi' outlandish-lookin palm-tree leaves archin frae them wi' an elegance o' their ain, rouch though they seem in the rin', and aiblins prickly? What ca' ye them?

North. Pine-apples.

Shepherd. I've aften heard tell o' them-but never clapped een on them afore. And these are pines! Oh! but the scent is sweet, sweet-and wild as sweet-and as wild restorative. I'se tak some jargonels afterwards-but I'll join you noo, sir, in a pair o' pines.

[NORTH gives the SHEPHERD a pine-apple. Hoo are they eaten?

Tickler. With pepper, mustard, and vinegar, like oysters, James.

Shepherd. I'm thinkin you maun be leein.

Tickler. Some people prefer catsup.

Shepherd. Haud your blethers. Catchup's gran kitchen2 for a' kinds o' flesh, fish, and fule, but for frutes the rule is 'sugar or naething,"—and if this pine keep the taste o' promise to the palat, made by the scent he sends through the nose, nae extrawneous sweetness will he need, self-sufficient in his ain sappiness, rich as the colour o' pinks, in which it is sae savourily enshrined. -I never pree'd ony taste half sae delicious as that in a' ma born days! Ribstanes, pippins, jargonels, peaches, nectrins, currans and strawberries, grapes and grozets, a' in ane! The concentrated essence o' a' ither 1 Auchans-a kind of pear.

2 Kitchen-relish.

frutes, harmoneesed by a peculiar tone o' its ain-till it melts in the mouth like material music.

North (pouring out for the Shepherd a glass of sparkling champagne). Quick, James-quick-ere the ethereal particles escape to heaven.

Shepherd. You're no passin aff soddy' upon me! Soddy's ma abhorrence-it's sae like thin soap-suds.

North. Fair play's a jewel, my dear Shepherd.

"From the vine-cover'd hills and gay regions of France”. Shepherd.

"See the day-star o' liberty rise."

That beats ony guseberry-and drinks prime wi' pine. Anither glass. And anither. Noo put aside the Langshanksand after a' this daffin let's set in for serious drinkin, thinkin, lookin, and speakin-like three philosophers as we are-and still let our theme be-Human Life.

North. James, I am sick of life. life is on the lees."

With me "the wine of

Shepherd. Then drink the dregs and be thankfu'. As lang's there's anither drap, however drumly, in the bottom o' the bottle, dinna despair. But what for are you sick o' life? You're no a verra auld man yet-and although ye was, why mayna an auld man be geyan happy? That's a' ye can expeck noo. But wha's happy-think ye-perfeckly happy—on this side o' the grave? No ane. I left yestreen wee 'Jamie -God bless him-greetin as his heart would break for the death o' a bit wee doggie that he used to keep playin wi' on the knowe mony an hour when he ought to hae been at his byuck-and when he lifted up his bonny blue een a' fu'o' tears to the skies, after he had seen me bury the puir tyke in the garden, I'se warrant he thocht there was a sair change for the waur in the afternoon licht-for never did callant loe collie as he loed Luath; and to be sure he, on his side, wasna ungratefu'—for Luath keepit lickin his haun till the verra last gasp, though he dee'd of that cruel distemper. Fill your glass, sir.

North. I have been subject to fits of blackest melancholy since I was a child, James.

Shepherd. An' think ye, sir, that naebody has been subjeck

1 Soda-water.

to fits o' blackest melancholy since they were a bairn, but yoursel? Wi' some it's constitutional, and that's a hopeless case; for it rins, or rather stagnates in the bluid, and meesery has been bequeathed frae father to son, doun mony dismal generations—nor has ceased till some childless suicide, by a maist ruefu' catastrophe, has closed the cleemax, by the unblessed extinction o' the race. But you, my dear sir, are come o' a cheerfu' kind, and mirth laughed in the ha's o' a' your ancestors. Cheer up, sir-cheer up-fill your glass wi' Madeiry-an' nae mair folly about fits-for you're gettin fatter an' fatter every year, and what you ca' despair's but the dumps.

North. O, mihi præteritos referat si Jupiter annos!

Shepherd. Ay-passion gies vent to mony an impious prayer! The mair I meditat on ony season o' my life, the mair fearfu' grows the thocht o' leevin't ower again, and my sowl recoils alike frae the bliss, and frae the meesery, as if baith alike had been sae intense that it were impossible they could be re-endured!

North. James, I regard you with much affection. Shepherd. I ken you do, sir-and I repay't three-fauld; but I canna thole to hear you talkin nonsense. What for are ye no drinkin your Madeiry?

North. How pregnant with pathos to an aged man are those two short lines of Wordsworth-about poor Ruth!

"Ere she had wept, ere she had mourn'd,
A young and happy child.”

Shepherd. They are beautifu' where they staun', and true; but fause in the abstrack, for the youngest and happiest child has often wept and mourned, even when its mither has been tryin to rock it asleep in its craddle. Think o' the teethin, sir, and a' the colic-pains incident to babbyhood!

North. "You speak to me who never had a child."

Shepherd. I'm no sae sure o' that, sir. Few men hae leeved till threescore and ten without being faithers; but that's no the pint; the pint is the pleasures and pains o' childhood, and hoo nicely are they balanced to us poor sons of a day! I ken naething o' your childhood, sir, nor o' Mr Tickler's, except that in very early life you maun hae been twa stirrin gentle

men