Glasgow: Printed for the Company of Flying Stationers, in Town and country. MDCCLXXX.’ Such is the full title of the edition here used. It has been with the following editions:—‘Edinburgh: printed for the booksellers, 1823’; and ‘Stirling: printed by William Macnie, and sold wholesale and retail, 1823’; and also with the modern Glasgow one.]
THE COMICAL HISTORY OF SIMPLE JOHN AND HIS TWELVE MISFORTUNES.
Simple John was a widow’s son, and a coarse country weaver to his trade; he made nothing but such as canvas for caff-beds, corn and coal-sacks, druggit and harn was the finest webs he could lay his fingers to; he was a great lump of a lang lean lad, aboon sax fit high afore he was aughteen year auld, and as he said himsel he grew sae fast and was in sic a hurry to be high, that he did not stay to bring a’ his judgment wi’ him, but yet he hoped it would follow him, and he would meet wi’t as mony a are does after they’re married; he had but ae sister, and she had as little sense as himsel, she was married on Sleeky Willy, the wylie weaver, his mither was a rattling rattle-scul’d wife, and they lived a’ in ae house, and every body held them as a family of fools. When John came to man’s state, to the age of twenty-one years, he tell’d his mither he would hae a wife o’ some sort, either young or auld, widow or lass, if they had but head and hips, tongue and tail, he shou’d tak them, and weel I wat mither, quoth he, they’ll get a lumping penny-worth o’ me, get me wha will.
His mither tells him o’ the black butcher on Ti’ot-side, who had three dochters, and every ane of them had something, there was Kate, Ann, and Girzy, had hunder merks the piece, Kate and Ann had both bastards. Girzy the eldest had a hump back, a high breast, baker legs, a short wry neck, thrawn mouth, and goggle ey’d, a perfect Æsop of the female kind, with as many crooked conditions within as without, a very lump of loun-like ill nature, row’d a’ together, as if she had been nine months in a haggies, a second edition of crooked backed Richard an old English king, that was born wi’ teeth to bite a’ round about him; and yet the wight gaed mad to be married.
John’s mother tell’d him the road where to go, and what to say, and accordingly he sets out wi’ his sunday’s coat on, and a’ his braws, and a pair o’ new pillonian breeks o’ his mither’s making. In he comes and tell’d his errand before he would sit down, says good day to you goodman, what are you a’ doing here? I am wanting a wife, an’ ye’re a flesher and has a gude sorting aside you, my mither says ye can sair me or ony body like me, what say ye till’t goodman, how mony dochters hae ye? are they a’ married yet? I fain wou’d tak a look o’ some o’ them gin ye like.
A wow said the goodwife come in by honest lad and rest you, an ye be a wooer sit down an gi’s a snuff; a deed goodwife I hae nae mill but my mither’s, and it’s at hame. A whar win ye, I’se no ken ye; I wat quoth he, my name’s Jock Sandeman, they ca’ me simple John the sack weaver, I hae nae tocher but my loom, a pirn wheel, a kettle pat, a brass pan, twa piggs, four cogs and a candlestick, a good cock, a cat, two eerocks new begun to lay; my sister Sara is married on sleeky Willie the wylie weaver, and I maun hae a hagwife or my mither die, for truly she’s very frail, and ony harle o’ health she has is about dinner-time; what say ye till’t, goodman? can ye buckle me or no?
Goodman. A dear John ye’re in an unco haste, ye wadna hae you’re wife hame wi’ ye? they’re a’ there before ye, which o’ them will ye tak?
Hout tout says John, ony o’ them ’ill sare me, but my mither says there’s twa o’ them has fauts: and what is their fauts said the goodwife, hout said John, it’s no meikle faut, but I dinna like it, they got men or they were married. And what shall I do wi’ them said the goodman.