138 THE WONDERFUL BOOK. 



Frae north to south, from east to west, 

 O'er every hill and mountain's crest ; 

 It's the queerest book, sirs, ever ye saw, 

 By Curly Jock and Wull o' the Eaw. 







But I'll confess and tell ye plain, 

 Half o' the verses are no my ain ; 

 Frae Burns I've stown monie a line, 

 An' Tannahill too, an' ca'd them mine. 

 And weav'd them deftly thro' an' thro', 

 Wi' sanctified warps an' wifts o' blue ; 

 Sae then buck-up baith ane an a', 

 For Curly Jock and Wull o' the Eaw. 



The queerest trick, sirs, ever I play'd, 

 Since I began the rhymin' trade ; 

 When frae Drumlee I stole, ye ken, 

 Wee Piper's farewell to Kielder Glen. 

 Od! Wull says I, at last incog, 

 That's ower guid for onie dog ; 

 To the shepherd's farewell I weav'd it braw, 

 An' then cried weal deun Wull o' the Eaw, 



To the Herald then the lines I sent, 

 Sae sleek an slee for them to prent ; 

 But ah ! waes me, that prenter's deil, 

 And Dandie Dinmont awfu' cheil, 



