owdie in a day;
Gin ye crowdie ony mair,
Ye'll crowdie a' my meal away.

Quoting the stanzas as an old ballad in a letter to his friend, Mrs.
Dunlop, in December, 1795, the poet Burns wrote:--"There had much need
to be many pleasures annexed to the states of husband and father, for,
God knows, they have many peculiar cares. I cannot describe to you the
anxious, sleepless hours these ties frequently give me. I see a train of
helpless little folks; me and my exertions all their stay; and on what
a brittle thread does the life of man hang! If I am nipt off at the
command of Fate, even in all the vigour of manhood, as I am--such things
happen every day--Gracious God! what would become of my little flock?
'Tis here that I envy your people of fortune. A father on his death-bed,
taking an ever-lasting leave of his children, has indeed woe enough; but
the man of competent fortune leaves his sons and daughters independency
and friends; while I--but I shall run distracted if I think any longer
on the subject!" So might we all. Then, away with it, and let us have a
more lightsome spring.

WHISTLE, WHISTLE, AULD WIFE.

"Whistle, whistle, auld wife.
An' ye'se get a hen."
"I wadna whistle," quo' the wife,
"Though ye wad gi'e me ten."

"Whistle, whistle, auld wife,
An' ye'se get a cock."
"I wadna whistle," quo' the wife,
"Though ye'd gi'e me a flock."

"Whistle, whistle, auld wife,
And ye'se get a goun."
"I wadna whistle," quo' the wife,
"For the best ane i' the toun."

"Whistle, whistle, auld wife,
An' ye'se get a coo."
"I wadna whistle," quo' the wife,
"Though ye wad gi'e me two."

"Whistle, whistle, auld wife,
An' ye'se get a man."
"_Wheeple-whauple_" quo' the wife,
"I'll whistle as I can."

Sung with vocal mimicry, the above makes a strikingly effective
entertainment.

The song of "The Three Little Pigs" embraces a palpable moral, which not
children alone would be the better for taking to heart. I wish I could
sing it for you, my reader, as I have heard Mr. Tom Hunt, the well-known
animal painter, sing it in social circles in Glasgow:--

THE THREE LITTLE PIGS.

A jolly old sow once lived in a sty,
And three little piggies had she;
And she waddled about saying, "grumph! grumph! grumph!"
While the little ones said "wee! wee!"

And she waddled about saying, "grumph! grumph! grumph!"
While the little ones said