or in the characteristic picture of William Dunbar, a wit of the lime, and the merriest of the Fencibles:—
"As I cam by Crochallan
I cannily keekit ben;
Rattlin', roarin' Willie
Was sitting at yon boord en';
Sitting at yon boord en',
And amang guid companie!
Rattlin', roarin' Willie,
Ye're welcome hame to me!"
or in the verses on Creech, Burns's publisher, who left Edinburgh for a time in 1789. The "Willies," by the way, seem to be especially inspiring to the Scottish balladists.
"Oh, Willie was a witty wight,
And had o' things an unco slight!
Auld Reekie aye he keepit tight
And trig and braw;
But now they'll busk her like a fright—
Willie's awa'!"
I think perhaps the gatherings of the present time are neither quite as gay nor quite as brilliant as those of Burns's day, when
"Willie brewed a peck o' maut,
An' Rob an' Allan cam to pree;"
but the ideal standard of those meetings seems to be voiced in the lines:—
"Wha last beside his chair shall fa',
He is the king amang us three!"
