rvants were often
themselves the daughters of farmers, and only sent to be the hirelings
of others because their services were not needed at home." We should
remember this habit of the Scottish peasantry if we wish to understand
the early songs of Burns; for they were suggested by it, and vitalized
by it, as much as by his impassioned genius. He painted what he saw; he
sang what he felt. We have a glimpse of him in one of his winter
courtships in 'My Nanie, O'; another and warmer glimpse of him in one of
his summer courtships in 'The Rigs o' Barley'; and another and livelier
glimpse of him in one of his mocking moods in 'Tibbie, I hae seen the
day.' But he was more than the lover which these songs revealed: he was
a man of sound understanding and fine, active intelligence, gifted with
ready humor and a keen sense of wit. If he had been other than he was,
he might and probably would have been elated by his poetic powers, of
which he must have been aware; but being what he was, he was content to
enjoy them and to exercise them modestly, and at such scanty intervals
as his daily duties afforded. He composed his songs as he went about his
work, plowing, sowing, reaping; crooning them as he strode along the
fields, and correcting them in his head as the hours dragged on, until
night came, and he could write them down in his little room by the light
of his solitary candle. He had no illusions about himself: he was the
son of a poor farmer, who, do what he might, was never prosperous; and
poverty was his portion. His apprehension, which was justified by the
misfortunes of the family at Mount Oliphant, was confirmed by their dark
continuance at Tarbolton, where he saw his honored father, bowed with
years of toil, grow older and feebler day by day, dying of consumption
before his eyes. The end came on February 13th, 1784; and a day or two
afterwards the humble coffin of William Burness, arranged between two
leading horses placed after each other, and followed by relations and
neighbors on horseback, was borne to Alloway and buried in the old
kirkyard.

The funeral over, the family removed to Mossgiel, in the parish of
Mauchline, where, at Martinmas, Robert and Gilbert had rented another
farm. Having no means of their own, they and their sisters were obliged
to rank as creditors of their dead father for the arrears of wages due
them as laborers at Lochlea; and it was with these arrears, which they
succeeded in wresting from their