of clay,
Sae fyrst wise prove thy threat;'
Loud geckit Trummall as he cried,
'I'll mak' thee haggish meat!!'"

Yes, reader--you may well stare! but such is absolutely the rubbish
which has been shot from the Chiswick Press. Next--hear it, ye powers of
impudence!--Allan Cunningham's beautiful ballad of Lady Anne, makes its
appearance as "Lady Nell." We need scarcely add that in such hands the
virgin degenerates into a drab. The other remodelments are trash. The
"Merchant's Garland" is a new version by Sheldon of a street ditty
called the "Factor's Garland," of which we happen to have a copy in a
collection of penny histories. It is as much an ancient ballad as the
Murder of William Weare--is dear at the ransom of a brass farthing--and
commences thus:

"Behold, here's a ditty that's new, and no jest,
Concerning a young gentleman in the East,
Who, by his great gaming came to poverty,
And afterwards went many voyages to sea.

Being well educated, and one of great wit,
Three merchants of London, they all thought it fit,
To make him their captain, and factor also,
And for them to Turkey a voyage he did go."

This is sorry enough doggrel, as every one who has the capacity of
reckoning feet upon his fingers must allow; but Sheldon fairly trumps
it. In a fit of enthusiasm, he has enlisted the name of a friend in the
service, and that gentleman must doubtless feel infinitely obliged for
the honour of such immortalisation.

"Syr Carnegie's gane owre the sea,
And's plowing thro' the main,
And now must make a lang voyage,
The red gold for to gain.

Now woe befall the cogging die,
And weary the painted beuks,
A Christian curse go with all naigs,
And eke all hounds and cocks.

Three merchants of great London town,
To save the youth were bent,
And they sent him as factor to Turkish ground,
For the gaming has hym shent."

Poets of the Isle of Muck, did ye ever listen to such a strain? Now let
us take a look at the works of the ancients. The first in point of order
is the "Laidley Worm of Spindleston Heugh," touching which Mr Sheldon
gives us the following information. "This ballad was made by the old
mountain bard, Duncan Fraser of Cheviot, who lived A.D. 1320, and, was
first printed some years ago, from an ancient MS., by Robert Lambe,
vicar of Norham." We do not know what exact time maybe meant by the
phrase "s