LONG LONKIN. See p. 94. From Richardson's Borderer's Table-Book, viii. 410. THE lord said to his ladie, That lies in the moss." The lord said to his ladie, As he rode away, "What care I for Lonkin, Or any of his gang ? My doors are all shut And my windows penned in.” There are six little windows, And they were all shut, But one little window, And that was forgot. 5 10 15 And at that little window "Where's the lord of the hall ?" Says the Lonkin ; "He's gone up to London," Says Orange to him. "Where's the men of the hall ? Says the Lonkin ; "They're at the field ploughing," Says Orange to him. "Where's the maids of the hall ?" Says the Lonkin ; “They're at the well washing," Says Orange to him. "Where's the ladies of the hall? 20 25 -90 Still she did prick it, And bee-ba she cried; "Come down, dearest mistress, And still your own child." “O still my child, Orange, Still him with a bell;" "I can't still him, ladie, Till you come down yoursell." "Hold the gold basin, For your heart's blood to run in," "To hold the gold basin, It grieves me full sore; Oh kill me, dear Lonkin, And let my mother go." 45 50 55 THE LAIRD OF WARISTOUN. See p. 107. "JOHN KINCAID, Laird of Waristoun, (an estate situated between the city of Edinburgh and the sea, towards Leith,) was murdered, on the 2d of July, 1600, by a man named Robert Weir, who was employed to do so by his wife, Jean Livingstone, daughter of the Laird of Dunipace. The unfortunate woman, who thus became implicated in a crime so revolting to humanity, was only twenty-one years of age at the time. It is probable from some circumstances, that her husband was considerably older than herself, and also that their marriage was any thing but one of love. It is only alleged, however, that she was instigated to seek his death by resentment for some bad treatment on his part, and, in particular, for a bite which he had inflicted on her arm. There was something extraordinary in the deliberation with which this wretched woman approached the awful gulf of crime. Having resolved on the means to be employed in the murder, she sent for a quondam servant of her father, Robert Weir, who lived in the neighbouring city. He came to the place of Waristoun, to see her; but, for some unexplained reason was not admitted. She again sent for him, and he again went. Again he was not admitted. At length, on his being called a third time, he was introduced to her presence. Before this time she had found an accomplice in the nurse of her child. It was then arranged, that Weir should be concealed in a cellar till the dead of night, when he should come forth and proceed to destroy the laird as he lay in his chamber. The bloody tragedy was acted precisely in accordance with this plan. Wier was brought up, at midnight, from the cellar to the hall by the lady herself, and afterwards went forward alone to the laird's bedroom. As he proceeded to his bloody work, she retired to her bed, to wait the intelligence of her husband's murder. When Weir entered the chamber, Waristoun awoke with the noise, and leant inquiringly over the side of the bed. The murderer then leapt upon him; the unhappy man uttered a great cry; Weir gave him several dreadful blows on vital parts, particularly one on the flank vein. But as the laird was still able to cry out, he at length saw fit to take more effective measures: he seized him by the throat with both hands, and compressing that part with all his force, succeeded, after a few minutes, in depriving him of life. When the lady heard her husband's first death-shout, she leapt out of bed, in an agony of mingled horror and repentance, and descended to the hall : but she made no effort to countermand her mission of destruction. She waited patiently till Weir came down to inform her that all was over. "Weir made an immediate escape from justice; but Lady Waristoun and the nurse were apprehended before the deed was half a day old. Being caught, as the Scottish law terms it, red-hand,—that is, while still bearing unequivocal marks of guilt, they were |