in't ended,
And luck may turn, and mine be mended,
The remaining holes may fall to me,
Then Skipper dear, where will you be?
I've not had one, and eight you've taken,
You need one more to save your bacon--
_One little hole, to save your soul!_
I stand to lose name, fame, and purse,
Not that I care a tinker's curse;
But you, should fortune now forsake you,
Your freedom gone, my slave I make you.
Play up, and man-like save your skin,
Strike for your name and native green.'

[Illustration]

I heard, and as I gazed upon him,
Transformed he seemed, some change come o'er him;
He caught my eye, divined my thought,
And gave the explanation sought.--
'To honour you I've changed my suit,
My taste and style none can dispute;
I now assume my sporting dress,
The garb I wear when I mean business;
I've donned my tail, and doffed my boots,
You see me in my native cloots.'
Man's fond, familiar, friendly devil
Aye gracious, debonair and civil;
Smiling he stood, his arms akimbo,
The Deil himself, the Prince o' Limbo.

Oh, Jockie, crushed wi' grief and shame,
A prey to fear, remorse and blame,
Like vessel storm-stressed in the bay,
Her rudder gone, her masts away;
Left to the mercy of the waves, and tossed
A helpless hulk and well-nigh lost.
Belief in succour still remained,
The distant life-boat hope sustained.
So, stranded in this awful hole,
I turned to Heaven to save my soul.
I prayed, beseeched the powers on high,
To help me in my agony.
I prayed, as ne'er I prayed before;
In anguish keen I vowed and swore,
This trouble gone, this sorrow ended,
My wicked life should be amended;
This struggle o'er, this combat passed,
This drucken bout should be my last.
Then hope, sweet hope, began to flow,
And swell my breast with genial glow;
Self-trust and courage that had gane
Wi' fiery rush, cam' back again.
My native pride, love o' the game,
Blazed in my heart like altar flame.
I felt that tho' a fool I'd been,
I still could battle for the green.
Resolved, restored, I rose defiant,
O'er doubts and fears I sprang triumphant.
'Clootie,' says I, as cool and cheeky
As lawyer lad frae gude Auld Reekie,
'I'm willin' to resume the game,
A stroke a hole, and terms the same.
But had I kent what I ken noo,
And sober been, instead o' fou,
I'd seen you fried in your ain brimstane
Ere I had linked to sic a b