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ON ANGLING. 33
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'Twere tiresome to tell all the feats of our fishing, We all filled our baskets, and could have filled more ;
And if its the weight for to know you'll be wishing, Avoir du poise pounds each could reckon a~-----!
The Abbey St. Bathan's lay close now before us,— A welcome retreat both for sinner and saint.
Our dinner well cooked at the inn, did restore us To freshness and vigour—from weary and faint.
And soon we began to get merry and chatty— Away, without notice, the time quickly flew,
As we quaffed the good cheer of our landlady Mattie,— Strong ale, bottled porter, and fine mountain dew.
Should any one wish to kuow about Mattie,—
Sly winks and cross questions may as well be spared ;
Some said she was good, and some said she was------
But now she lies low in St. Bathan's kirkyard.
Yes ! Mattie's away, and we hope she is happy ;
She had a sma' failin', for which we feel— To keep out the cauld she would take a wee drappie,
Get fou as a fiddler, and whomil the creel !
But, sooner or later, all things have an ending,
And so must this rhyme—so, we wish you good night I
Our compliments to all our friends we are sending ; We got home at twelve, and found everything right,
June, 1847 n |
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