A Golfing Idyll Part 3

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I ken nae mair, all was confusion, How long I lay I have nae notion.

My friends they tell me I was found Senseless, and dead-like, on the ground; Home to my bed they kindly bore me, Made fruitless efforts to restore me, But all in vain, for fever seized me, And friendly death well-nigh released me.

Seven days and nights I raved and tossed, For ever screaming lost, lost, lost!

The ravings of a fevered brain, As I went o'er and o'er again The scenes and horrors of that night, Freezing my listeners with affright.

A weary time; but, to be brief, Kind Heaven in mercy sent relief.

At last, far gane, I found my head, And kent the folk about my bed; Among them I was pleased to view My worthy friend Nurse Killiegrew, For she had with her presence blessed me, And thro' my illness watched and nursed me.

I had their warm congratulations, And their demands for explanations About my ravings wild and furious (Women are aye sae keen and curious).

'Poor man,' quoth Nurse, 'you've had a lesson, 'Twill ease your mind to mak' confession.'

Abashed, ashamed, I hesitated, At last, with pain, my tale related.

My yarn, of course, made great sensation; They groaned and grat at the narration, Save Nurse, who shook her head in sadness, Incredulous, declared my story madness.

Said she, 'You fancy you have seen the Deevil, And golfed and bargained wi' the Prince o' Evil; You've had the horrors, it would seem, And what you tell us was a drunkard's dream.'

'Pardon,' said I,--I felt quite nettled,-- 'I do not think you've fairly settled The nature of my strange distraction, At least not to my simple satisfaction.

To clear myself, my honour tells me, A stern necessity compels me, Against your most injurious explanations I have strong proof in bodily sensations.

For obvious reasons, I would fain refrain From reference to the region of my pain.

The cause I've in my story tell't ye, The skelp wi' tail Auld Hooky dealt me; Further, my breeks, or I'm mistaen, Will furnish proof both strong and plain.

Bring forth the breeks; as sure as leeks is leeks You'll find the proof upon the breeks.'

The breeks they brought, o' good grey tweed, And laid them oot upon the bed.

It was indeed a solemn moment, Mysel', six worthy women present,-- A wise, discreet, respectable sederunt.

Auld Meg Kilgour, a clever howdie; That virtuous woman, Jenny Braidie, As d.i.n.k and braw as ony lady; The aged clack wife, Nelly Gourlay; Good Jeanie Tosh, and stout Bell Lonie; And last, the wisest o' the crew, My worthy nurse, Miss Killiegrew.

The carlines they put on their specs, Six pair o' een bore on the breeks; Awe-struck they saw upon the seat, Brunt black and deep, the mark complete Of Clootie's tail, like the broad arrow, Clear and distinct as tooth o' harrow!

The sicht o't caused great consternation, Hech sirs! Gudesake! and sic-like exclamation.

Jean Tosh she gat as white's a sheet; And Nell and Bell began to greet, But Meg had nae sic trepidation, And wanted mair investigation.

'c.u.mmers,' says she, 'let's see his sark, Aiblins it likewise bears the mark.'

'Fie!' Jenny cried, wi' blushing cheeks, 'Eneugh! we've seen the Skipper's breeks, Sic zeal may weel become a howdie, I draw the line at breeks,' quo' Jenny Braidie.

'What!' Meg rejoined, 'you pented jade, You dare to scorn my honest trade!

'Tis ill for you to mak' reflection, Your ain will scarcely stand inspection.'

And snorting red, on mischief bent, She turned to me for my consent.

I saw that things were getting serious, And feared they jauds so keen and curious.

Meg's birse was up and no mistake, Her match she had in Jean the rake.

'Twas time to still the wordy clatter, And pour the ile on troubled water.

'Leddies,' said I, 'your sympathy is precious, To me you've been most kind and gracious, With all your care I'm deeply gratified, And as to proof, completely satisfied.'

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Nurse heard me, saw the c.u.mmer's zeal, And looked as if diverted weel.

She laughed, amused at the sensation, But flat refused the explanation, And chaffed and scoffed in huge derision, Declaring they had lost their reason.

'You doited women, don't you see What is so evident,' says she, 'This good-for-nothing drunken wight Has sat upon his pipe alight, No doubt the cause of mark and pain.

To me it is as porridge plain.'

'Nurse!' I exclaimed, enraged, indignant, 'Your explanation is repugnant To reason, sense, and proof, and feelin'; Don't think that with a fool you're dealin', For though to drink a slave I've been, I say it, with contrition keen, I ne'er had horrors, what they ca' _D.T._ In Latin tongue, whatever that may be; You hand your ain, and I keep my opinion, I ken my failin's, I'm but human.'

('Twas nae use arguing wi' a woman.)

Now Jock my story's told, my yarn is ended, Some things there be that can't be mended; As broken hearts, and damaged reputation, Like club-held gane past reparation, Beyond the savin' powers o' glue, New leather face, or nails, or screw.

Not so, thank G.o.d, an evil habit, Heaven spare me that I live to prove it.

I've tottered on destruction's brink, Have wallowed in the slough o' drink, Have good despised and lived for evil, And golfed and bargained wi' the Deevil.

Thank goodness, that's all gone and changed, By other hands my life's arranged.

I'm like the chield in Bunyan's story, That pilgrim on his road to glory, Sair hudden doon wi' muckle sack Chokefu' o' sins upon his back, Warstlin' and pechin' on his weary way, The burden heavier growin' every day.

Heaven heard his prayer, the burden fell, And rolled behind him to the jaws o' H--l.

Joyous and free, gone all his sadness, Grateful he sang, and danced in gladness.

I, grim auld pilgrim, in like manner, Compared wi' him a hardened sinner, Thro' forty years I've burden borne, By self despised, of men the scorn.

Now, safe forever from the curse That starved my body, toomed my purse, I've anch.o.r.ed in a peacefu' haven, No more for drink the cruel cravin'.

No more the 'Public' haunts for me, The drunkard's shout, the maddening glee, The ribald jokes, and songs, and laughter, The sickening pangs that follow after.

Gone, gone forever, all the filth and folly, The aches, the woes, the melancholy; I've cast the old, put on the new, Three cheers then for the ribbon blue, And blessings on Nurse Killiegrew!

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