Tickler. Who THE PLUCKING OF GEESE. "Plays such fantastic tricks beneath high heaven 263 Shepherd. What an eemage! An angel weepin at a guse! That's no orthodox. It would be ayont the power o' the angel Gabriel himsel, or Michael, or Raphael either, ony mair than us Three, to gaze doun on the Gander without fa'in intil guffaws. North. In Lincolnshire in the Fens these unfortunate animals are plucked perennially in cavies Shepherd. What? A' the year through! North. Ay, James, all the year through-from June to January-and from January to June. Shepherd. Without bein' alloo'd ae single holiday, sir? I couldna carry on sic a system o' persecution as that again' ony Guse or Gander that ever gabbled—for it borders on inhumanity; and sometimes, methinks, about the close o' the month, as I was haudin the noiseless tenor o' my way towards his cavie, to gie him his accustomed plookin, my heart would relent, seein the pimples and pustules pabblin a' ower him, just as parritch pabbles in the pat- the countless holes, sir, out o' which the quulls had been rugged—and then, in place o' administerin the usual discipline to his doup, or what, wi' his tale, he thinks wings, ten to ane I would gie him a handfu' o' corn, mixed wi' cauld potawtoes, say something kind and consolin to the sans-culottes citizen o' the cavie, and aiblins openin the door, let him out to tak a waddle on thae absurd splay-feet o' his, beneath whose soles you canna, however, help pityin the poor grass, and heavin a sigh for the inevitable bruisin o' much beetle. North. I am not—either by nature or education-superstitious; yet I cannot help attaching some credit to the strange rumour Shepherd. What strange rumour? Let me hear't, sir; for there's naething I like sae weel's a strange rumour. North. Why, that the great Glasgow Gander has been seen since the last Noctes. Shepherd. Whaur? North. At divers times and in sundry places. Shepherd. But no in the flesh, sir-no in the flesh. Tickler. THE GHOST OF THE GANDER!!! 264 North. THE GLASGOW GANDER'S GHOST. "Doom'd for a certain time to walk the night, Tickler. "But that it is forbid To tell the secrets of his prison-house, He could a tale unfold." North. That "eternal blazon," Tickler, must be reserved for another Noctes. A description of his Purgatory by the Ghost of the Glasgow Gander will eclipse Dante's. Shepherd. Wha saw't? North. People in general. Shepherd. Ay, that's the way wi' a' supernatural apparitions. I defy you to trace ony ane amang the best accredited o' them a' up to its first gloom or glimmer afore individual een-but it's neither the less true nor the less fearsome on that account- and that you'll alloo even to your ain loupin heart, the first time you forgather wi' a ghaist -in a wood, or on a muir, or glowerin out upon you frae the embrasure o' an auld castle, or risin up as silent as the mist, in the verra heart o' the thunner o' some lanesome waterfa'. North. Some, 'tis said, have seen it, as if escaped from the spit-trussed, yet endowed with locomotive powerTickler. Hissing like a steam-engine. North. Others, gashed with a thousand wounds, and dripping with gore and gravy Tickler. "In somnos ecce! ante oculos mæstissimus ANSER, North. "Hei mihi! qualis erat! Quantum mutatus ab illo Tickler. “O Lux Dardaniæ! Spes O Fidissima Teucrûm! Fœdavit voltus? aut cur hæc volnera cerno?" 265 North. "Ille nihil; nec me querentem vana, moratur, Tickler. "Heu! fuge, NATE DEA!” Shepherd. What! Does the Ghost of the Gander gabble Greek? Tickler. The story runs, James, that "Even in his ashes lives his wonted fire," and that he has been seen by the watchman, as he "walks his lonely round," impotently pursuing, up and down the Gusedubs, some dingy Dulcinea desired of yore, who, with loud shrieks, shuns his embraces, and finally, in desperation, plunges for shelter in among a drove of ducks, merry in the moonlight on the Peat-Bog, into whose sullen depths is afraid to plunge the hot and hissing Tarquin, who bitterly knows that fat cannot float without feathers North. He sticks to Terra Firma-"larding the lean earth as he moves along." Shepherd. What seems he noo in the een o' the Bubbly? North. The Bubbly sees through him-and wages warfare on the Gander's Ghost. But you may imagine the Bubbly's astonishment on finding the Gander evaporate beneath his tread as he leaps upon him, after having chased him three times round Nelson's Pillar.1 Tickler. Methinks I see the Ghost of the Gander, "At the close of the day, when the city is still, And mortals the sweets of forgetfulness prove," waddling along that noble square, on the summit of Blythswood Hill,' and moralising to himself on the destinies of his species 1 In Glasgow. 266 AND ENDEAVOURING TO REPLUME HIMSELF. Shepherd. Wushin, a' in vain, that they wad but tak a lesson frae his fate! A' in vain, sirs; for even let a spectre come frae the sewer to forewarn them o' their doom, yet wunna they keep their tongue within their bills, but wull keep gapin, and hissin, and gabblin on till the end o' the chapter, which, aiblins, consists o' sic a catastrophe at Awmbrose's, sir, as will be remembered to the latest posterity, and, translated intil a thousan' languages, be perused by all people that on earth do dwell, lang after the Anglo-Scotch, and the ScotoEnglish, have been baith dead tongues. Example's lost on a' Fules-feathered and unfeathered-and that's aye been an argument wi' me-excepp in cases o' verra rare culprits— again' capital punishments. North. 'Tis said the Gawpus of the Ghost Shepherd. You mean the Ghost of the Gawpus North. has been seen in Edinburgh. The Black Cook of this establishment, James, is afraid to sleep by herselfShepherd. Canna she get Tappytoorie, or the PechTickler. Hush-hush-James. North. You know all feathers are among her perquisitesand she told King Pepin, that, t'other night, on lifting up the lid of the chest where that golden fleece reposed, among the plumage of inferior fowls, lo, the Ghost of the Gander, spurred on by instinctive passion, abhorrent of his nudity, insanely struggling to replume himself Shepherd. Haw-haw-haw!-and hopping about in the chest, amaist as roomy as a Minister's Girnel,1 like a chiel risin half-drunk in the mornin, and wha havin gotten ane o' his legs intil the breeks, fin's it a'thegither ayont his capacity to get in the ither, but keeps stoiterin and stacherin, and tumblin, outower the floor frae wa' to wa', for a lang while, dour on an impossible achievement, and feenally fa'in backarts on a sack, wi' nae mair howp o' maisterin his velveteens in this warld, than in the next o' insurin his salvation. Tickler. O thou Visionary! North. Poor soul! in her situation, such an adventure- North. Too true, James. In her fright she let fall the lid -nor has she since had courage, his majesty informs me, to uplift it. 1 Girnel-a large chest for holding meal. THE TERROR OF HIS NAME. 267 Tickler. The Ghost of the Gander will be smothered. He had better have kept in the sewer. North. In future ages, James, generations of men seeing the Ghost of the Glasgow Gander, will vainly believe that in the nineteenth century all Ganders were of his size Shepherd. Ay-that there were giants in our days. Tickler. He will cause great disturbance in Ornithology. Shepherd. Amang the tribe Anseres. Compared wi' him, the geese o' the three thousandth 'ill dwinnle doun to dyucks. North. In some future Demonology, the philosopher will endeavour to reduce him to ordinary dimensions, nay, even to prove him—all in vain—to be a mere phantom of the imagination. Shepherd. Yet, sirs, mithers and nourices wull hush the babbies on their breists wi' the cry o' "the Ganner! — the Ganner!" "gin you wunna lie quate, ye vile yaummerin imp, I'll gie ye to the Ghost o' the great Glasgow Ganner!" Na -tunes 'ill be made to eemage forth his gabble, by the Webers o' unborn time-and Theatres be thick wi' folk, as trees wi' craws, to hear, on the hundredth nicht o' its performance, a maist unearthly piece o' music frae a multitudinous orchestra, ca'd the "Ganner's Chorus ! Tickler. I am sorry he was slaughtered. He would have been an incomparable chimney-sweep. Shepherd. To have admitted him, whatna flue! Tickler. Come, North, cut the subject short with a song. Give us the Ghost of the Gander-a Tale of Terror-after the fashion of Mat Lewis. Poor Mat! he was a man of geniusnow how forgotten! North. I'm a little hoarse- Tickler. That's always the affectation of you great singers. North. Pray, Tickler, which, to your ear, is the more musical of the two, the gabble of a Gander, or the braying of a Jackass? Shepherd. Dinna answer him, Mr Tickler, for he's only wushin to get aff the sang. Tickler. "Twould be bad, boorish manners, James, not to give an answer to a civil question. I prefer the Gander by sunrise from the sea-the Jackass, when that luminary is setting behind the mountains. Shepherd. What luminary ? |