# The History of Donald and His Dog (Glasgow)/Donald and His Dog

DONALD AND HIS DOG.
Atween twa hills that tower'd up to the clouds, Clad o'er with heather, bent, and wuds; 'Mang rocks, and steeps, and waters falling, Was Highland Donald's humble dwelling, Aroun' his hut, beneath his eye, Fed bout a score o'stirks and key, Whilk, wi' his wife and family, were His pleasure and pecular care: Amang sic barren heights and howes, Whar grain for food but scanty grows, His family were but sparely fed— Right coarse, and barely were they clad; For he had wi' the laird for years Had, 'aginst his will been in arrears For whilk he had to thole the snarl And threats o' the tyrannic carl Till Donald's independent spirit ​Nae langer was resolved to bear it, And hardships was resolved to scorn— As the saying is, 'to mak' a spoon or spoil a horn.' He shrewd and clever was, I trow; Spak' Gaelic weel, and Lawlan's, too ; And, as he was an honest chiel, By a' his neighbours liket weel. Ae day— contrivin' what to dae To keep himsel' aboon the brae— A plan he modell'd in his head, And thus it down before them laid:— That twa weeks hence in England, there Wad be a great black cattle fair, Whar kye as he learnt frae men o' dealings Gied double price gi'en in the Highlands. Now if, wi' what he could himsel Spare safely frae his flock to sell, They wad mak' up a drove amang them, He pledged his word he wadna wrang them, But render, at his comin' back, A just account o' ilka plack; Allowing him for recompense Some sma' commission and's expense. On this they quickly greed to gie ​Out o' their flocks some twa, some three Till a handsome drove eolleckit, And to the south his way direekit. He mounted was npon a pony, A dog his servant was, and crony; And by his side, like ony lord, There hung a braid sheep-headed sword— No as a weaqon o' offence; But, in case o' need, for self-defence; For they wha liket, rich or poor, Might wear a sword in days o'yore. Baith ear' and late— baith wat and dry— The dog and Donald drave the kye; And, after muckle toil and eare A' safe and sound they reached the fair. The kye were sald— the price was paid— 'Twas down in yellow guineas laid; The guineas in his purse was sneekit— The priee was mare than he expeckit. Whilk raised his heart— and I wat weel He thought himsel' a clever chiel. Instead o' Donald longin' careless About the fair, to keek at fairlies, Or bouze wi limmers, or to gamble, Or spend his cash in ony ramble, ​He wisely mounts his Highland shelty, And took the road on helty skelty. As he rode on and cracked his whup, A gentleman came riding up,
Wha bade 'Good day,' wi friendly air,
And spiered 'if he'd been at the fair?' When Donald, without vain parade,
Returned him thanks, and said 'he had' And a' his business, tap and tail o't,
When at the fair, he tauld the hale o't,
Right crouse they grew wi' ane anither,
And mony stories tauld to ither, Bout kings an' priests an' great commanders, The wars iu Britain, France, and Flanders. When mony mile's they'd rode in league, They in a hollow reached a brig Across a burn, that ran wi' ease Down through a glen adorued wi' trees. Now 'twas a bonnie summer's day,
When a', the fields were elothed and gay, They stopped, and dropped there tales and jokin', Their horses' lowing drouth to sloken, And greed some little time to pass,
To let them rest and eat some grass. ​Now, as Donald and his comrade sat Upon the green, they resumed their chat; And Donald's dog before their feet Lay stretched, and panting wi' the heat— And Donald's sword, which he did carry Beneath his hodden-grey havarry, The Englishman's attention seized, He begged a sight o't, if he pleased Whilk Donald drew and frankly gave him, In eonfidence he'd not deceive him. The bills thanked him for the sight o't, Then praised the size the mak, an weight o't. And asked at Donald, on his word, If maist he trusted to the dog or sword, Supposing the case, that any pad Should demand the money that he had? 'The sword,' quoth Donald, 'I can wield, And should sic wretch, by road or field, E'er daur demand frae me a shilling, I'd plunged with freedom in the villain; Yet ne'ertheless, for а' my cracks o't, I wadna gie the dog for sax o't. Wi' this the fellow, at the word, Chapped aff the dog's head with the sword; Syne pointed it to Donald's heart, ​Aud swore he with his cash should part, Or instantly, with stabs and cuts, He'd pierce his heart and rip his guts. 'Oh!' says Donald, 'spare my life, For sake o' my poor weans and wife! Hae, there's the cash; but wi' what shame And grief maun I face friends at hame! They'll no believe a word o't neither— Lord help's, we're ruined a thegither
'Stop', says the fellow, 'cease your crying: Your friends will not suppose you lying; They will believe what yon say to them, By evidence which shall give them From ever man I rob I've credit, By giving me his hand I did it; My comrades and I together
This token give to one another: So one of your hands must go with me, to So take your choice, which shall it be My dog is gane and darling purse, And now my hand— still worse and worse. Hae mercy on me "Donald prays, I'll be a beggar a' my days.' 'No mercy for you,' cried the wretch; Come, down wi't— I'll make quick dispatch, ​'Weel then,' says Donald, 'I submit, But ae repuest grant, if it's fit; That is, since my left hand must go, Drive't aff at ae most desperate blow; No on the saft green, there perhaps Ye'll pine me sair by several chaps, But ye'll at ance mair siccar do't On yonder smooth tree's spreading root. Puir Donald's prayer was heard, he then Made bare his left hand shackle— bane, And on the tree root laid it quâking: The robber now his aim was taking— Baith hands raised the vengfu' whittle, And, as he drew with awful ettle, Sly Donald slipped his arm a-jee, When firm the sword stuck in the tree. 'Have at ye now, ye cruel wretch,' Quoth Donald, 'I am now your match!' With that he caught him by the collar, Gied him a jerk that garred him gollar; Donald's blood boiled in a passion, He gied his face a horrid bashin, His cravate Donald squeesed sae tight, That faith he strangled him maist outright. By this means Donald manned to mak ​His hands secure ahint his back, Syne on the horse he put the billy, His feet he tied beneath his belly, The dog, whom Donald mourned full sore, A frightfu' sight of reeking gore, He on ahint the fellow placed Across the hurdies of the beast. Syne, Donald's triumph to evince, He mounts his horse proud as a prince— Brandished the sword, and dared the blade To move his hands, feet, tongue, or head; That if he did, he warned him now Up to the hilt he'd run him through. Sae on the road they moved alang, And Donald crooned a Highland sang; They reached the town, folks were surpris'd The rober soon was recognized; The magistrates they brawly kent him, For mair nor ance he'd been fornent them. For mony years his deeds of horror
Had kept baith far and near in terror, For whilk, whae'er wad apprehend him,
And to the nearest prison send him, Wad he entitled to regard,
And twenty guineas of reward, ​Whilk Donald got in word and deed, With honours heaped upon his head. The rober, too got his reward— Stern Justice at him awfu' stared; Guilt and remorse his bosom stung, Hence he was tried, condemned, and hung. Bauld Donald soon arrived at hame, Paid aff his laird and ilka claim Mair o' him ye'd tire to hear me tell, But he was soon a laird himsel, Yet ne'er forget the awfu' shock, When his left hand lay on the block.
END OF DONALD AND HIS DOG.