INTO BALLAD-LAND. 109 



most spirited of all the Border ballads. An Englishwoman's 

 cattle have been harried, and she calls her friends and neigh- 

 bours to immediate pursuit, in verses of great power. One 

 must suffice, 



" But Peenye, my guid son, is out at the Hagbut Head, 

 His een glittering for anger like a fiery gleed ; 



Crying, Male' sure the hooks 



Of Maky's-muir crooks, 



For the wily Scot takes by nooks, hooks, and crooks, 

 Gin we meet a' together in a head the morn, 



We'll be merry men ! 



Fy, lads ! shout a', a', a', a', a', 



My gear's a' gane ! " 



It was here too that the gallant Hobbie Noble, whom, we 

 have seen as one of the deliverers of Jock o' the Syde, was be- 

 trayed to the English to be hanged at Carlisle, 



" At Kershope foot the tryste was set, 

 Kershope of the lilye lee. " 



By "Cannobie Lea" and the Esk, which the young Lochinvar 

 crossed, "where ford there was none," we draw near to "merrie 

 Carlisle." It is worth noting, on the way, that Lady Heron's 

 song was ingeniously altered by Scott from a much older ver- 

 sion called " Katharine Janfarie." The affray that ensued on 

 this lady's abduction was said to have taken place where the 

 Cadden joins the Tweed, 



" Oh rueikle was the blood was shed 



Upon the Cowden brae, 

 And aye she made the trumpet sound, 

 It's a' fair play ! " 



At Netherby Hall, by the Esk, in the old debateable land, a 

 man of ballad tastes naturally remembers the unfortunate end 

 of Hnghie the Graeme, one of the numerous thieves of the clan. 

 He was hanged at Carlisle, 



