WITH REMARKS ON THE HISTORY OF THE GAME.
“When winter muffles up his cloak,
And binds the mire like a rock,
Then to the loch the Curlers flock
Wi’ gleesome speed.”
Burns.
“When winter muffles up his cloak,
And binds the mire like a rock,
Then to the loch the Curlers flock
Wi’ gleesome speed.”
Burns.