HISTOEY OF THE LINLITHGOW 



for the funeral service, the hounds, as it unfortu- 

 nately happened, ran past in full cry. Donald, 

 greatly excited, broke loose, galloped round to the 

 house, and banged on the door with his fe^ in 

 order to attract his master's attention, being quite 

 unable to understand what prevented him from 

 turning out and joining the chase. Three years 

 after the taking of the photograph, and some 

 three before the time when his master, full of 

 years, departed this life, Donald breathed his last 

 and was buried in the field immediately to the 

 south of the mill-dam on B'ormie farm. The verses 

 written on his death by Mr James Ruthven, Bee- 

 craigs, are well worthy of preservation, and could 

 not have failed to comfort Mr Young in the loss 

 of his favourite ; while the delightful reference to 

 the sluggish temperament of the pony's successor, 

 may even have evoked a smile from the old man. 



Ol^r THE DEATH OF OLD B'OEMIE'S DONALD. 



The far-famed Donald here doth lie. 

 To the best of hunters bid good-bye. 

 The biggest fence he ne'er did shy, 



But through did rush ; 

 The leading hounds he aye kept nigh 



And took the brush. 



'Nae mair the huntsman's horn he'll hear, 

 Nor at the cover side apj^ear, 

 Nor round the hill his master bear 



With lichtning speed ; 

 For Death's ta'en Donald frae us a' 



And he is deid. 



198 



