[51] In Morren’s, M‘Kenzie & Hutchison’s, and other editions, there is here this parenthesis:—‘Ta’en ane anithers word, a kiss, and a hoddle, at the hillock side.’
[52] The Scotsman’s grace has passed into a proverb, on account of its inordinate length and its theological tinge. The story is often told of the servant girl who, after leaving a family in which she had once served, returned to stay a night with them. At supper the grace was the same as she was wont to hear before she went away, and she complimented her late master and host upon his ‘guid memory.’
[53] A little wooden trough such as is used for the feeding of sheep or swine. In an edition of this chap-book printed in Stirling by C. Randall, in 1801, the reading is:—‘Into a little tub or trough.’ It is the same in several later issues, but in Morren’s edition it reads:—‘Into a little tub or cogboin.’
[54] The Scotch ‘girnel,’ to be found yet in most country houses, especially among ‘bein’ or well-to-do people, who purchase their meal in larger quantities than is usual in towns.
[55] The story of the chase after the ‘poor dominie’ is omitted in Morren’s edition, but the following new matter is inserted in its stead:—‘Tom came running home all besmear’d with blood, at the sight whereof his father cry’d, what’s the matter Tom? To which he made no answer: searching him, the trick was discovered and poor Tom received a severe chastisment. Tom, to be revenged on his father, rose in the night time and broke the fauld and let out the cattle amongst his father’s corn, and goes to bed again, this he did unperceived. Next morning, the neighbours observing the cattle lying amongst the corn, came running, and told his father how they had destroyed all his victual, for they had eat till they had like to burst. All the time Tom lay in his bed, and his father much vexed at his laziness, and told him that he would never have the benefit of more schooling as his master had so many grievious complaints against him; at which Tom rejoiced within himself as he did not value learning, nor put it in balance with his designed tricks; Tom then scampered away, and meeting with an egg cadger coming to Edinburgh, desired him to alight from his horse, and he would give him a dram at the Fallow kirk, at which, the poor man was glad, and went in with him. Tom called for two drams and bade the cadger drink hearty, in the mean time Tom slips out and mounts the cadger’s horse, and puts a foot in each creel, and made the eggs all caddle, and then he dismounted and ran; so that the poor cadger lost his eggs, and had the drams to pay for.’
[56] In Morren’s edition this story is told in a very different way. As has already been explained, the first and second parts in that edition are run into one, and the following paragraph immediately succeeds the story told in the preceding note:—‘Tom was always playing tricks to his grandmother, as he knew she was rich, and would part with nothing to him; he lays in wait one night, and conceals himself in a corner until all was at rest, Tom rises and takes the keys of a drawer, and slips out about forty shillings, and slips off to Dalkeith on a Thursday where his grandmother’s servant girl came that day. Tom was spending largely, and the girl who knew that Tom had no money, came home and told his grandmother that Tom had taken away her money, this so enraged him, that he lashed her buttocks with his wheep in so unmerciful a manner, that what with the smart and shame together she had not the least inclination to sleep the remaining part of the day.’ The narrative then proceeds:—‘Tom being grown up to the years and age of a man,’ etc.
[57] It was customary among country folks, and is so still in some districts of Scotland, to kill a fat animal at Martinmas of each year, and salt it for the winter’s provision. Even people in urban districts, though they had not a cow nor an ox, had a pig which they had been fattening for a year, and which was then considered ready for the sacrifice. Hence the term ‘winter mairt.’ The word ‘mairt,’ or ‘mart,’ ultimately came to denote a person who lived in ease and prosperity.
[58] In all other editions we have seen the reading is ‘three pounds.’
[59] This ends Number I. of the edition of Lothian Tom from which the text is here taken. It finishes at the foot of the page. The next number has a title page similar to what is on the first, and the narrative continues on the back of the title as if there had been no break. The folios run right through the three numbers, the whole chap-book occupying twenty-four pages.
[60] The old jail in the Canongate of Edinburgh is still an object of interest. Jailers in the past occupied a very different position from what they do now. They acted more in the capacity of taverners than their brethren of the present day. In English plays and novels of last century their position is fully shown; and in the same period a similar state of matters existed in Scotland. In Glasgow, after the erection of the Tolbooth at the Cross, in 1627, the jailer was given a yearly salary of 40 merks (£2 4s. 5½ sterling), and he was to receive from every burgess or inhabitant of the city who should be committed to his care 2s. Scots (2d. sterling) for entry and booking fee, and the same sum for every twenty-four hours during which the person should be incarcerated. Outsiders, however, had double fees to pay their host. On account of ‘having only thiefes and lounes as prisoners,’ and getting no profit from them, the jailer of 1661 received from the Town Council of Glasgow a grant of £20 Scots (£1 13s. 4d. sterling). The Privy Council Records show that in 1696 the keeper of Canongate Tolbooth was allowed 2s. Scots per night, with one penny sterling for the servants—in all 3d. sterling—for every recruit he kept.