There's threesome reels and foursome reels,

There's hornpipes and strathspeys, man; But the ae best dance e'er cam' to our lan' Was the deil's awa' wi' the exciseman. We'll mak' our maut, &c.

OH, Willie brew'd a peck o' maut,
And Rob and Allan cam' to see;
Three blither hearts that leelang night
Ye wadna find in Christendie.
We are na fou, we're na that fou,
But just a drappie in our ee;
The cock may craw, the day may daw',
And aye we'll taste the barley bree.

Here are we met three merry boys,
Three merry boys I trow are we;
And mony a night we've merry been,
And mony mair we hope to be.

We are na fou, &c.

It is the moon, I ken her horn,

That's blinkin in the lift sae hie;
She shines sae bright to wyle us hame,

But, by my troth, she'll wait a wee.
We are na fou, &c.

Wha first shall rise to gang awa',

A cuckold, coward loon is he;
Wha first beside his chair shall fa',

He shall be king amang us three.
We are na fou, &c.

"This air," says Burns, "is Masterton's; the song is mine. The occasion of it was this:-Mr. William Nicol, of the High School, Edinburgh, during the autumn vacation, being at Moffat, honest Allan, who was at that time on a visit to Dalswinton, and I, went to pay Nicol a visit. We had such a joyous meeting, that Masterton and I agreed, each in our own way, that we should celebrate the business." Dr. Currie, who mentions that Nicol's farm was that of Laggan, in Nithsdale, adds, that "these three honest fellows, all men of uncommon talents, were in 1798 all under the turf,"

NEIL GOW'S FAREWELL TO WHISKY.

Mrs. AGNES LYON, born 1762, died 1840.—C.B.
YOU'VE surely heard o' famous Neil,
The man who play'd the fiddle weel;
He was a heartsome, merry chiel',

And dearly lo'ed the whisky O.
For e'er since he wore the tartan hose,
He dearly liket Athol brose;

And wae was he, you may suppose,

To play farewell to whisky O.
Alas! says Neil, I'm frail and auld,
And whiles my hame is unco cauld

I think 'twad make me blithe and bauld,
A wee drap Highland whisky O.
Yet a' the doctors they do agree
That whisky's no the drink for me.
I'm fley'd they'll gar me tyne my glee
By parting me and whisky O.

Though I can baith get wine and ale,
And find my head and fingers hale,
I'll be content, though legs should fail,
To play farewell to whisky Q.
But still I think on auld lang syne,
When Paradise our friends did tyne,
Because something ran in their min',
Forbid like Highland whisky O.

Come, a' ye powers o' music, come;
I find my heart grows unco glum ;
My fiddle-strings will no play bum,
To say farewell to whisky O.
Yet I'll take my fiddle in my hand,
And screw the pegs up while they'll stand,
To make a lamentation grand

For gude auld Highland whisky O.

As a performer on the violin Neil Gow was unequalled. "The livelier airs," says one of his biographers, "which belonged to the class of what are called strathspey and reel, and which have long been peculiar to the northern part of the island, assumed in his hand a style of spirit, fire, and beauty, which had never been heard before. There is perhaps no species whatever of music executed on the violin in which the characteristic expression depends more on his power of the bow, particularly in what is called the upward or returning stroke, than the Highland reel. Here accordingly was Gow's forte. His bow-hand, as a suitable instrument of his genius, was uncommonly powerful; and where the note produced by the up-bow was often feeble and indistinct in other hands, it was struck in his playing with a strength and certainty which never failed to surprise the skilful hearer. To this extraordinary power of the bow, in the hand of great original genius, must be ascribed the singular felicity of expression which he gave to all his music, and the native Highland gout of certain tunes, such as Tullochgorum,' in which his taste and style of bowing could never be exactly reached by any other performer. We may add the effect of the sudden shout with which he frequently accompanied his playing in the quick tunes, and which seemed instantly to electrify the dancers, inspiring them with new life and energy, and rousing the spirits of the most inanimate."

Neil Gow excelled also in the composition of Scottish melodies; and his sets of the older tunes and various of his own airs were prepared for publication by his son Nathaniel. In private life Neil Gow was distinguished by his unpretending manners, his homely humour, and strong good sense and knowledge of the world. His figure was vigorous and manly, and the expression of his countenance spirited and intelligent. His whole appearance exhibited so characteristic a model of a Scottish Highlander, that his portrait was to be found at one time in all parts of the country. Four admirable likenesses of him were painted by the late Sir Henry Raeburn; one for the county-hall at Perth, and the others for the Duke of Athol, Lord Gray, and Lord Panmure. His portrait was also introduced into the view of a "Highland Wedding" by the late Sir William Allan, along with that of Donald Gow, his brother, who usually accompanied him on the violoncello.-Scottish Biography.

GUDE NIGHT, AND JOY BE WI' YOU A'.

SIR ALEXANDER BOSWELL.

GUDE night, and joy be wi' you a';
Your harmless mirth has cheer'd my
May life's fell blasts out ower ye blaw;

In sorrow may you never part!
My spirit lives, but strength is gone,
The mountain fires now blaze in vain ;
Remember, sons, the deeds I've done,
And in your deeds I'll live again.

When on your muir a gallant clan
Frae boasting foes their banners tore,
Wha show'd himself a better man,
Or fiercer waved the red claymore?

heart:

But when in peace—then mark me there—
When through the glen the wanderer came,
gave him of our lordly fare,

I

I gave him here a welcome hame.

The auld will speak, the young maun hear;
Be cantie, but be guid and leal;
Your ain ills aye hae heart to bear,
Another's aye hae heart to feel.
So, ere I set, I'll see you shine,
I'll see your triumph ere I fa';

My parting breath shall boast you mine ;

Gude night, and joy be wi' you a'!

Suggested evidently by Burns's song, "This night is my departing night."

AULD GUDEMAN, YE'RE A DRUNKEN CARLE!

SIR ALEXANDER BOSWELL.

"AULD gudeman, ye're a drunken carle, drunken carle! A' the lang day ye wink and drink, and gape and gaunt; O' sottish loons ye're the pink and pearl, pink and pearl, Ill-far'd, doited ne'er-do-weel."

"Hech, gudewife! ye're a flyting body, flyting body;
Will ye hae; but, Guid be praised, the wit ye want.
The puttin' cow should be aye a doddy, aye a doddy;
Mak' na sic an awsome reel."

"Ye're a sow, auld man;

Ye get fou, auld man ;
Fie for shame, auld man,

To your wame, auld man;
Pinch'd I win, wi' spinnin' tow,
A plack to cleid your back and pow."

"It's a lie, gudewife;
It's your tea, gude wife;
Na, na, gudewife,

Ye spend a', gude wife.
Dinna fa' on me pell-mell,

Ye like the drap fu' weel yoursell."

"Ye's rue, auld gowk, your jest and frolic, jest and frolic; Dare ye say, goose, I ever liked to tak' a drappy? An' 'twerena just to cure the colic, cure the colic, Deil a drap wad weet my mou"."

"Troth, gudewife, an' ye wadna swither, wadna swither, Soon to tak' a colic, when it brings a drap o' cappy;

But twascore years we hae fought thegither, fought thegither; Time it is to gree, I trow."

"I'm wrang, auld John;
Ower lang, auld John,
For nought, gude John,

We hae fought, gude John ;

Let's help to bear ilk ither's weight,
We're far ower feckless now to fight."

"Ye're richt, gude Kate;

The nicht, gude Kate,
Our cup, gude Kate,

We'll sup, gude Kate;

Thegither frae this hour we'll draw,

And toom the stoop atween us twa."