A Night Out with Burns by Robert Burns Page A

immortal bogles and witches travelled abroad in the streets and parks. My mother was very gifted at making costumes, and two of our neighbours, Hazel and Sandy Copeland, who came from the Highlands, threw everything they had into Halloween. At their house we ‘dooked’ for apples in basins of water and covered our faces in treacle as we tried to take bites from dripping scones that hung on strings from the ceiling. There was always a sense of the warm, excited interior and the frozen world outside, resplendent that night with its dark certainties about the life after death.

    The following Poem will, by many Readers, be well enough understood; but, for the sake of those who are unacquainted with the manners and traditions of the country where the scene is cast, Notes are added, to give some account of the principal Charms and Spells of that Night, so big with Prophecy to the Peasantry in the West of Scotland. The passion of prying into Futurity makes a striking part of the history of Human–nature, in its rude state, in all ages and nations; and it may be some entertainment to a philosophic mind, if any such should honor the Author with a perusal, to see the remains of it, among the more unenlightened in our own.
    Halloween 1
    Yes! let the Rich deride, the Proud disdain,
    The simple pleasures of the lowly train;
    To me more dear, congenial to my heart,
    One native charm, than all the gloss of art .
    Goldsmith

    Upon that night , when Fairies light,
    On Cassilis Downans 2 dance,
    Or owre the lays, in splendid blaze,
    On sprightly coursers prance;
    Or for Colean , the rout is taen,
    Beneath the moon’s pale beams;
    There, up the Cove , 3 to stray an’ rove,
    Amang the rocks an’ streams
    To sport that night.

    Amang the bonie, winding banks,
    Where Doon rins, wimplin, clear,
    Where B RUCE 4 ance rul’d the martial ranks,
    An’ shook his Carrick spear,
    Some merry, friendly, countra folks,
    Together did convene,
    To burn their nits, an’ pou their stocks,
    An’ haud their Halloween
    Fu’ blythe that night.
    The lasses feat, an’ cleanly neat,
    Mair braw than when they’re fine;
    Their faces blythe, fu’ sweetly kythe,
    Hearts leal, an’ warm, an’ kin’:
    The lads sae trig, wi’ wooer-babs,
    Weel knotted on their garten,
    Some unco blate, an’ some wi’ gabs,
    Gar lasses hearts gang startin
    Whyles fast at night.

    Then, first an’ foremost, thro’ the kail,
    Their stocks 5 maun a’ be sought ance;
    They steek their een, an’ grape an’ wale,
    For muckle anes, an’ straught anes.
    Poor hav’rel Will fell aff the drift,
    An’ wander’d thro’ the Bow-kail ,
    An’ pow’t, for want o’ better shift,
    A runt was like a sow-tail
    Sae bow’t that night.
    Then, straught or crooked, yird or nane,
    They roar an’ cry a’ throw’ther;
    The vera wee-things , toddlan, rin,
    Wi’ stocks out owre their shouther:
    An’ gif the custock ’s sweet or sour,
    Wi’ joctelegs they taste them;
    Syne coziely, aboon the door,
    Wi’ cannie care, they’ve plac’d them
    To lye that night.

    The lasses staw frae ’mang them a’,
    To pou their stalks o’ corn ; 6
    But Rab slips out, an’ jinks about,
    Behint the muckle thorn:
    He grippet Nelly hard an’ fast;
    Loud skirl’d a’ the lasses;
    But her tap-pickle maist was lost,
    Whan kiutlan in the Fause-house 7
    Wi’ him that night.
    The auld Guidwife’s weel-hoordet nits 8
    Are round an’ round divided,
    An’ monie lads an’ lasses fates
    Are there that night decided:
    Some kindle, couthie, side by side,
    An’ burn thegither trimly;
    Some start awa, wi’ saucy pride,
    An’ jump out owre the chimlie
    Fu’ high that night.

    Jean slips in twa, wi’ tentie e’e;
    Wha ’twas, she wadna tell;
    But this is Jock , an’ this is me ,
    She says in to hersel:
    He