48 BX 0 GRAPH I C AL SKETCHES.
I‘ The History of Dover Castle. ~ By the Rev. William Darrell, Chaplain to
Queen Elizabeth.” In 4t0, the same size as the large and small
editions of the Antiquities of’ England and Wales; with ten views engraved
from drawings by Captain Grose.
“ A Provincial Glossary ; with a Collection of Local Proverbs and Popular
Superstitions.” Lond. 1788. 8vo.
. “Rules for Drawing Caricatures ; the subjectlillustrated with four copperplates;
with an Essay on Comic Painting.” Lond. 1788. 8vo. A second
edition 8ppeared in 179 1, Svo, illustrated with twenty-one copperplates, seventeen
of which were etched by Captain Grose.
After his demise was published “ The Olio ; being a collection of Essays,
Dialogues, Letters, Biographical Sketches, etc. By the late Francis Grose, Esq.,
F.R.S. and A.S. ;” with a portrait of the author.
There are dissertations by him in the Archseologia, the one “On an Ancient
Fortification at Christchurch, Hants,” and the other “ On Ancient Spurs,”
Although the verses written by Burns during Captain Grose’s peregrinations
through Scotland collecting its antiquities are sufficiently well known, we
cannot refrain from concluding this article with them :
1781.
Lond. 1796. 8vo.
Hear, Land 0’ Cakes, and brither Scots,
Frae Maidenkirk to Johnny Groats,
If there’s a hole in a’ your coats,
A chiel’s amang you takin notes,
If in your bounds ye chance to light
Upon a fine, fat, fodgel wight,
0 stature short, but genius bright,
An wow I he has an unco slight
By some auld, houlet-haunted biggin,
Or kirk deserted by its riggin,
It’s ten to ane ye’ll find him snug in
Wi’ deils, they say, - safe’s ! colleaguin
Ilk ghaist that haunts auld ha’ or chamer,
Ye gipsy-gang that deal in glamor,
And TOU deep-read in hell’s black grammar,
Ye’ll quake at his conjuiin hammer,
It’s tauld he was a sodger bred,
And ane wad rather fah than fled ;
Bnt now he’s quat the spurtle-blade,
An taen the-Antiquariaw, trade,
I reds you tent it ;
And, faith, he’ll prent it.
That’s he, mark weel-
0’ cauk and keel.
Some elllrich part,
At some black art.
Warlocks and witches,
Ye midnight -.
An dogskin wallet,
I think they call it.
He has a fouth 0’ add nick-nackets,
Rusty aim cap#, an jingling jackets,
Wad hand the Loudians three in tackets
A towmond gude,
And parritch pats, an auld sant-backets,
Before the flood.
0’ Eve’s first fire he has ae cinder ;
Auld Tubal-Cain’s fire-shoo1 and fender ;
That which distinyished the gender
0’ Balaam’s ass ;
A broom-stick 0’ the witch 0’ Endor,
Wee1 shod wi’ brass.
Forbye, he’ll &ape you aff fu’ gleg,
The cut 0’ Adam’s philibeg,
The knife that nicket Abel’s craig
It was a fauldin jocteleg,
But wad ye see him in his glee,
For meikle glee and fun has he,
Then set him down, an! twa or three
And port, 0 port I shine thou a wee,
Now, by the powers 0’ verse and prose !
Thou art a dainty chiel, 0 Grose I
Whae’er 0’ thee shall ill suppose,
I’d tak the rascal by the nose
He’ll prove you fully,
Or lang kail-gully.
Gude fellows wi’ him ;
And then ye’ll see him !
They sair misca’ thee,
Wad say, Shame fa’ thee.
