Blair Collection > Selections from the Gaelic bards

A FAIR DAY. 211
In soul devour the whole delicious stock,
They want the means one pennyworth to buy.
There, in his cart, the glib-mouthed auctioneer
Deals old, old wit, and long used up, around,
And cheats the rustics with his fluent tongue,
And much amazes them — he talks so well.
There, in bewilderment, a culprit stands,
Beneath the rattle of his brazen slang,
Who gave a bid in utter ignorance,
And much perplexed, now hesitating looks,
Hearing his opposite, with deep respect,
Quote in a breath his license and his Queen.
There, with his stand, the vendor of the nuts
Offers his bow, "Only a penny, gents!"
And eager youths come vieing for the prize,
" Sixty large nuts for him who hits the ring."
There is the draper with his goods and clothes,
All ready-made, or bundled up in bales,
And moleskin, duck, or woollen garments, ranged,
Attract the eydent housewife's careful eye ;
While pen-knives, walking-sticks, umbrellas blue,
Marked with huge tickets, tempt with tiny price.
There with her plain deal table, covered clean,
A spinster stands, or pawky auld gudewife,
Who dearly loves a cheering cup of tea.
Spread are her bowls and largest cups to view,
Half-filled with comfits purchased for the fair,
Bought at five shillings, which she '11 sell at twelve.
Now in the heat of rivalry she stands,
Where bold competitors, with practised wile,
On every side allure the urchin's eye.
To disappointment not unseldom doomed,
She sees the valued currency that flows
On either side, but scarcely reaches her —
Boding but ill unto the hoarded store
Devoted to her secret beverage.