ould delight the bairns, were better worth
the penny than news from distant London, which was altogether foreign
and unknown to that humble audience.

This no doubt was the sort of fame and widespread popular appreciation
which made the statesman of that day--was it Fletcher of Saltoun or
Duncan Forbes the great Lord President?--bid who would make the laws so
long as he might make the songs of the people. He had in all likelihood
learnt Allan's widely flying, largely read verses, which every _gamin_
of the streets knew by heart, in his childhood. And though they might
not be in general of a very ennobling quality, there are glimpses of a
higher poetry to come in some of these productions, and a great deal of
cheerful self-assertive content and local patriotism, as well as of
rough fun and jest. If it were not for the very unnecessary introduction
of Apollo as the god to whom "the bard" addresses his wishes, there
would be something not unworthy of Burns in the following lines. The
poet has of course introduced first, as a needful contrast, "the master
o' a guid estate that can ilk thing afford," and who is much "dawted
(petted) by the gods"--

"For me, I can be weel content
To eat my bannock on the bent,
And kitchen't wi' fresh air;
O' lang-kail I can make a feast
And cantily haud up my crest,
And laugh at dishes rare.
Nought frae Apollo I demand,
But through a lengthened life,
My outer fabric firm may stand,
And saul clear without strife.
May he then, but gi'e then,
Those blessings for my share;
I'll fairly, and squarely,
Quit a', and seek nae mair."

It was no doubt after he had achieved this reputation of the streets--a
thing more difficult than greater fame--that his imagination developed
in more continuous and refined effort. Whether he himself printed his
penny broadsheet as well as sold it we are not informed, but as he began
after a while to combine bookselling with wigmaking we may be allowed to
imagine that the press which produced these flying leaves was either in
or near his shop. It is difficult to realise the swarming of life and
inhabitation within the high houses of the old town in an age when
comfort was little understood: and even the concentration within so
small a space, of business, work, interest, idleness, and pleasure, is
hard to comprehend by people who have been used to appropriate a
sep