1. The crap is fairly gather'd in, An' flails an' mills set up a din; The fruits o' aughteen twenty-twa Are shar'd in ilka house an' ha' ; Now peace an' plenty gi'e a chance For usefu' science tae advance ; Then let each member o' the nation, Wi' eydent haun, improve his station; While weary toils o' yore gi'e way To great improvements in our day ; Our modern arts we see at length Assist the powers o' manual strength. Machinery risin' on the stage, Reflects a glory on the age ; That ane may hazard a perhaps Posterity will ne'er eclipse. But how to trace the steps o' art, Now visible in every part, Wad far surpass the glimmerin' views, O' my untutor'd hamely Muse. Sae a' I ettle at this time Is just to link, in sort o' rhyme, A crack between twa kintra men Weel worthy o' an abler pen, The tane was Wat, the tither Will, Their subject a new Threshing Mill That stan's on Quechar Easter Farm, Fu' snugly cover'd frae the storm. The crap is fairly gather'd in, An' flails an' mills set up a din; The fruits o' aughteen twenty-twa Are shar'd in ilka house an' ha' ; Now peace an' plenty gi'e a chance For usefu' science tae advance ; Then let each member o' the nation, Wi' eydent haun, improve his station; While weary toils o' yore gi'e way To great improvements in our day ; Our modern arts we see at length Assist the powers o' manual strength. Machinery risin' on the stage, Reflects a glory on the age ; That ane may hazard a perhaps Posterity will ne'er eclipse. But how to trace the steps o' art, Now visible in every part, Wad far surpass the glimmerin' views, O' my untutor'd hamely Muse. Sae a' I ettle at this time Is just to link, in sort o' rhyme, A crack between twa kintra men Weel worthy o' an abler pen, The tane was Wat, the tither Will, Their subject a new Threshing Mill That stan's on Quechar Easter Farm, Fu' snugly cover'd frae the storm. 2. Wal. So, Willie, lad, ye're up wi't now, That soon ca's twa-three thrave o't through, Yer braw new Mill, an' thae grey horse, Preserve us ! hae an unco force. Ye'll strip nae mair, noo, to the harn At five o'clock tae thrash the corn ; An' set your flingin' tree a jiggin' Till streams o' sweat rin owre your riggin'. 3. Will. Na, feth no, lad, thae three grey cattle Ca't through as fast as sax can battle; An' feint o' either spoke or spinnle In a' the Mill will gi'e a dinnle. She snooves awa' as soun's a peerie, Her din wad mak' a body cheerie ; I dinna speak by way o' joke, Lad, ye maun ken oor Mill's nae mock. 4. Wat. It's guid whan folk get things tae please, An' sair them, baith wi' speed an' ease; Yet I've kent men, wha make pretence To even mair than common sense, Draw on a face o' great importance, Like them that's up to spaein' fortunes ;
THE THRESHING MILL
The Village of Chryston - North Lanarkshire - Scotland
Chryston
This dialogue was written in consequence of a Threshing Mill, driven by horse power, having been erected on Easter Farm of Quechar, Parish of Kirkintilloch.)
An' recommend, withoot a scruple, The stuff that's pappet wi' the souple, Ye'll get mair oot o't frae the miller (An' meal's the thing that brings the siller), Forbye it doesna' smash the fodder, An' aye the barn is keepit snodder. 5. Will. Gae 'wa', gae 'wa', ye hav'rel sheep ! Ye're dreamin', an' ye're no' asleep ; Gin ye can lippen to your een, Leuk, an' ye'll see our strae's fu' clean ; It's better thrushen, tap an' tail, Than e'er I yet saw't wi' a flail Our strae's weel keepit an' fu' teugh, An' weel I wat it's lang eneugh Ye'll ha'e mair sheillin' to be sure Frae corn that's hummelt on the floor ; But gin ye saw us dichten't through, We'll count mair out o't wi' the fou ; Whatever's o't we get it a', We fling nane o' oor corn awa'. Ne'er heed a wheen auld crazy fools, Wha lean to Superstition's rules, Wha either hinna cash to wair, An' munt a mill like that ane there. Or else they grip their gear sae stret, They live an' die in their ain debt. 6. Wat. We ne'er ha'e seen, nor e'er may see, Mankind a' seein' e'e tae e'e. Yet, I wad think, ye'll fin' but few Sae gi'en tae Superstition noo As think the de'il an' his connections Wad gi'e our craftsmen their directions; Or miss a chance o' doin' ill, Tae work in either barn or mill, As was believed by mony a yin When farmers fell a-blawin' win'. Folk canna a' be architects Tae deal in causes an' effects. But I wad noo incline tae hear, If it may be nae faut tae speer Wha was't that did the job sae weel- He's surely a gey clever chiel. 7. Will. Aye lad, he's clever an' discreet, An' mak's nae muckle fluster wi't. The praise o' twunty has been sung Less worthy o't than Willie Young. A skilfu' head an' ready hauns For baith he's sure to fin' demauns. 8. Wat. Weel spoken, Will ; but I maun gang, I've clatter't here by far owre lang; Guid speed tae your new thrashin' mill, Wi' routh o' sheaves her mou' tae fill. Will thanked him kin'ly in return, An' teuk his besom tae the barn.
Walter Watson
The Chryston Poet