“In the hame-coming there was a scramble, wha should be soonest at the feast, and a quarrel, an’ you’ll maybe be surprised that there was but ae quarrel, but I maun tell you that they were a’ engaged in’t, an’ maist o’ them kentna what they were gettin’ their croons cloored for, but just to be neighbour-like. The cracking o’ stilts, the yelly-hooings o’ wives and weans, and the clatter o’ tinklers’ wives, wad hae ca’m’d the sea in the Bay of Biscay—do ye ken the distance at which a beggar fights his duel?—it’s just stilt length, or nearer, if his enemy is no sae weel armed as himsel’.
“Ye hae a return o’ the killed and wounded—four Blind Fiddlers wi’ their noses broken—four Tinklers’ wives wi’ their tongues split, and if they had keepit them within their teeth, as a’ wives’ tongues should be, they would have been safe—there’s nae souder or salve that can cure an ill tongue—five Croons crackit on the outside—sixteen torn Lugs—four-and-twenty Noses laid down—four Left Hands with the thumb bitten aff—ten Mouths made mill doors o’—four dozen Stilts wanting the shouther-piece—twenty made down for the use of the family—in ither words, broken in twa! an’ they are usefu’, for we have a’ sizes o’ beggars. After a’ this, the grand dredgy; but I havena time to tell you about it the night; but ye see what handlings beggars would hae if the public would be liberal.
“Buy this book; if ye hae nae bawbees I’ll len’ ye, for I’m no carin’ about siller. I hae perish’d the pack already, an’ I am gaun to tak’ my Stilt, the morn’s morning, and let the Creditors tak’ what they can get.”
Closing the extraordinary scene, the poet adds, as a sort of epilogue—
“This is the end of all,
High and low, great and small;
This finishes the poor vain show,
And the King, with all his pride,
In his lifetime deified—