Part 23

The lintie in the broom, an' the merlie in the thorn, Join this happy quartette wi' their love-sweet song, Wi' mony ither sangsters I micht name That mak' amang oor moorlan' their mountain hame.

The Great Creator in His love divine Makes the earth tae blossom an' the sun tae shine, The birdies tae sing, sae charmin' an' rare; O, they gledden the hert when I'm weary wi' care.

THE PHOTO.

Dear friend, your photo I received; It's really very good; So please accept my thanks in rhyme-- You've caught me in the mood.

Though the photographic art is great, And wonderful withal, No shade can be as good to me As the original.

Thanks; I will safely keep and Your beautiful reflection, And every time I look at it 'Twill bring to recollection

A pleasant summer holiday 'Mid rural scenes so fair; In ease of mind, with friends so kind, My memory lingers there.

"SOMETHING WRANG."

Lines on seeing a delicate boy, on a cold day, thinly clad, wearing boots minus the soles.

Puir wee shilpit, feckless bairn, Ma hert is sair tae see ye; An' tho' I haena' muckle pooer I'll dae ma best tae help ye.

I hae a pound that I had saved Against a rainy day; 'Twad burn ma pooch while ye're in want, I'll spend it come what may.

An' when it's dune some ither freen' May tak' thy hapless form, An' biel ye frae the frosty wun' An' frae the winter storm.

Ye'r sad dark een look intae mine An gie ma hert a pang, They humbly tell, tho' tongue be still, There's shairly something wrang.

Then tae a system that's accurs't May every ill betide That winna fin' the bairns in meat An' raiment fit provide.

THE FLU'.

On falling a victim to influenza while on holiday.

Mercy me! is this the way That I maun spen' ma holiday? Groanin' wi' pains in legs an' back, Ma reason fairly on the rack?

The sun beats warm upon the plain, An' yet I'm shiverin' tae the bane; Stounin' pains gang thro' ma heid, Makin' me wish that I was deid.

Ma nose is rinnin' like a stream; Blear't an' a'most blin' ma e'en; Within ma throat the microbes rife Are cuttin' chords wi' roostit knife.

There's no a joint in a' ma frame But what has got an achin' pain; The sicht o' meat fair mak's me grue; A thoosan' curses on the flu'!

WEE JIM.

Wha is't that toddles oot an' in? Wee Jim. An' wha when cross kicks up a din? Wee Jim. Wha, when he's pleased, wi' lauchin' e'e, Comes rinnin' frae his mither's knee An' distributes his kisses free? Wee Jim.

Wha is't that has a curly pow? Wee Jim. Wha sets his granny's hearth alowe? Wee Jim. Wha, when in mischief or in fun Mak's face an' han's as black's the lum', Is threatened wi' a skelpit bum? Wee Jim.

Wha fills his tummy fu' o' sweets? Wee Jim. An' then in pain sits doon an' greets? Wee Jim. Wha, when he's sufferin' wi' the bile, Through a' his pain tries hard tae wile Awa' the dose o' castor ile? Wee Jim.

Wha rins aboot wi' naughty boys? Wee Jim. Wha listens words o' graceless choice? Wee Jim. Wha, like a parrit when he hears, Repeats their slang, an' a' their sweirs, An' dins them in his mither's ears? Wee Jim.

Wha is't we lo'e sae awfu' dear? Wee Jim. An' wadna' tyne for gowd or gear! Wee Jim. What though he romps, an' sometimes cries, Pure innocence beams in his eyes: He's jist an angel frae the skies! Wee Jim.

THE NURSES.

Suggested by a Photograph of Nurse Cavell.