OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# The Book of Scottish Song/Sae will we yet

Sae will we yet.
[Written many years ago by Walter Watson, a weaver in Kirkintilloch.]
Sit ye down here, my cronies, and gi'e us your crack, Let the win' tak' the care o' this life on its back, Our hearts to despondency we never will submit, For we've aye been provided for, and sae will we yet. And sae will we yet, &c.
Let the miser delight in the hoarding of pelf, Since he has not the saul to enjoy it himself: Since the bounty of providence is new ev'ry day, As we journey through life, let us live by the way. Let us live by the way, &c.
Then bring us a tankard o' nappy gude ale; For to comfort our hearts and enliven the tale; We'll aye be the merrier the langer we sit, For we've drank thegither mony a time, and sae will we yet. And sae will we yet, &c.
Success to the farmer, and prosper his plough, Bewarding his eident toils a' the year through! Our seed time and harvest we ever will get, For we've lippen'd aye to providence, and sae will we yet. And sae will we yet, &c.
Long live the king, and happy may he be, And success to his forces by land and by sea! His enemies to triumph we never will permit, Britons aye have been victorious, and sae will they yet. And sae will they yet, &c.
Let the glass keep its course, and go merrily roun', For the sun has to rise, though the moon it goes down. Till the house be rinnin' roun' about, it's time enough to flit, When we fell, we aye got up again, and sae will we yet. And sae will we yet, &c.
# The Song Book No. 4/And Sae Will We Yet

AND SAE WILL WE YET.
# Answer to the blue bonnet, &c/Answer to the Happy Stranger

a new song; being an answer to
THE HAPPY STRANGER.
I once was a stranger, in a far country did roam, When young Jemmy of Newry came to me alone, He said, My dear jewel, now tell me I pray, How you came to wander in a desart this way?
She said, Pray young man don't attempt persuade, Or take an advantage of me a poor maid; It was my cruel father who caus'd me to stray So far from my home, and to wander this way.
I loved a young man, and he loved me, But because he was poor, and of low degree, It was my cruel parents that press'd him to sea, Which made me to wander here, and a stranger to be.
​When I heard that my true love in battle was slain, I packed up my jewels, from my father's house I came, Determin'd to wander in lonesome retire, And there to lament for the youth I admire.
Then young Jemmy of Newry, with a most graceful bow, Did say, Lovely fair maid, the truth I'll tell you now, It was false lovers that caus'd me to roam, And wander so many miles distant from home.
And now, lovely fair maid, if you will agree, Since we're both cross'd in love, I'll marry with thee; Then dry up your tears, I'll ease you of your pain And marry with me, I'll be your kind swain.
To a neighbouring village they then did repair, Where a licence was bought, and they married were; And now the two strangers in love both agree, In a neat little cottage by a shady green tree.
No longer they wander in desarts alone, In content they do live in their cottage at home, The lark, thrush, and linnet round their cottage do sing, And both live as happy as a price of a king.
# Myths and Legends of Our New Possessions and Protectorate

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Myths and Legends of Our New Possessions
[Advertisements]
BY CHARLES M. SKINNER
Myths and Legends of Our Own Land Illustrated. Two volumes in a box. 12mo. Buckram, $3.00; half calf or half morocco, $6.00
Myths and Legends Beyond Our Borders Illustrated. 12mo. Buckram, $1.50; half calf or half morocco, $3.00
Myths and Legends of Our New Possessions and Protectorate Illustrated. 12mo. Buckram, $1.50; half calf or half morocco, $3.00
Myths and Legends Beyond our Borders and Myths and Legends of Our New Possessions and Protectorate. Two volumes in a box. Buckram, $3.00; half calf or half morocco, $6.00
With Feet to the Earth New Edition, Enlarged Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, ornamental, $1.50
Do-Nothing Days Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, ornamental, $1.50
Flowers in the Pave Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, ornamental, $1.50
Gate of the Walled City of Manilla
Myths & Legends Of Our New Possessions & Protectorate
By Charles M. Skinner
Philadelphia & London J. B. Lippincott Company 1900
This work was published before January 1, 1930, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# Myths and Legends of Our New Possessions and Protectorate/Illustrations

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Illustrations
# Myths and Legends of Our New Possessions and Protectorate/Table of Contents

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Table of Contents
# Myths and Legends of Our New Possessions and Protectorate/In the Pacific

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In the Pacific
Tales (not listed in original)
* Finding of the Islands
* Ancient Faiths of Hawaii
* The Giant Gods
* The First Fire
* The Little People
* The Hawaiian Iliad
* The Hawaiian Orpheus and Eurydice
* The Rebellion of Kamiele
* The Japanese Sword
* Lo-Lale's Lament
* The Resurrections of Kaha
* Hawaiian Ghosts
* The Three Wives of Laa
* The Misdoing of Kamapoa
* Pele's Hair
* The Prayer to Pele
* Lohlau and the Volcano Princess
* A Visit of Pele
* The Great Famine
* Kiha's Trumpet
* How Maikeha Gained a Wife
* The Sailing of Paao
* The Wronged Wife
* The Magic Spear
* Hawaiian Witches
* The Cannibals
* The Various Graves of Kaulii
* The Kingship of Umi
* Keaulumoku's Prophecy
* The Tragedy of Spouting Cave
* The Grave of Pupche
* The Lady of the Twilight
* The Ladrones
* Old Beliefs of the Filipinos
* Animal Myths
* Later Religious Myths and Miracles
* Bankiva, the Philippine Pied Piper
* The Crab Tried to Eat the Moon
* The Conversion of Amambar
* The Bedevilled Galleon
* Two Runaways from Manila
* The Christianizing of Wong
* The Devil's Bridge
* The Great Earthquake
* Suppressing Magic in Manila
* Faith that Killed
* The Widow Velarde's Husband
* The Grateful Bandits
# Myths and Legends of Our New Possessions and Protectorate/In the Caribbean

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In the Caribbean
Tales (not listed in original)
* The Mysterious Islands
* The Buccaneers
* The Boat of Phantom Children
* Early Porto Rico
* The Deluge
* How Spaniards were Found to be Mortal
* Ponce
* Water Caves
* How a Dutchman Helped the Spaniards
* The Ghost of San Geronimo
* Police Activity in Humacao
* The Church in Porto Rico
* The Mermaids
* The Aborigines
* The Caribs
* Secret Enemies in the Hills
* Sacred Shrines
* Tobacco
* The Two Skeletons of Columbus
* Obeah Witches
* The Matanzas Obeah Woman
* How Havana Got its Market
* The Justice of Tacon
* The Cited
* The Virgin's Diamond
* A Spanish Holofernes
* The Courteous Battle
* Why King Congo was Late
* The Chase of Taito Perico
* The Voice in the Inn
# John James Audubon (Burroughs)

* related portals: The Beacon Biographies
* related authors: John James Audubon
* sister projects: Wikidata item
THE BEACON BIOGRAPHIES
EDITED BY
M. A. DeWOLFE HOWE
JOHN JAMES AUDUBON
BY
JOHN BURROUGHS
JOHN JAMES AUDUBON
BY
JOHN BURROUGHS
BOSTON
SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY
MDCCCCII
Copyright, 1902
By Small, Maynard & Company
(Incorporated)
Entered at Stationers' Hall
Press of Geo. H. Ellis Co., Boston
​The photogravure used as a frontispiece to this volume is from an original painting by George P. A. Healy, London, 1838, now owned by the Boston Society of Natural History, Boston, to whom it was presented by the heirs of Josiah Bradlee. The present engraving is by John Andrew & Son, Boston.
Contents (not listed in original)
* Preface
* Chronology
* I.
* II.
* III.
* IV.
* V.
* Bibliography
* Adverts
This work was published before January 1, 1930, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# Myths and Legends of Our New Possessions and Protectorate/The Boat of Phantom Children

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THE BOAT OF PHANTOM CHILDREN
SIR FRANCIS DRAKE, destroyer of many of the "invincible" ships of Spain, came to America with Sir John Hawkins, to subdue the Spanish colonics with the heaviest fleet he ever commanded. Though wrangles between the commanders made this expedition a comparative failure, still wherever the head of a don was seen, a cracking blow was struck at it. War was a crueller business then than it is to-day, in spite of our high explosives, our armored ships, our mighty guns, and our nimble tactics, and things were done that no captain would dare in these times; at least, no captain with a fear of the world's rebuke, or that of his own conscience. Just before Christmas, 1594. Drake was scourging the coast of Colombia, burning houses, and shipping and despoiling the towns. ​The people of one village near Rio de la Hache, having been warned of his coming, buried their little property, closed their houses, put fifty of their children on a fishing smack, while they hurriedly provisioned some boats to carry all the people to a distant cape, where they would remain in hiding until after Drake had destroyed their homes and passed on. The fisherman who owned the smack set sail too soon; he was separated from the others in a gale, and Drake, who then appeared, ran be-tween him and the shore, and with a couple of shots drove him farther into the wild sea. The smack never returned. After the English had passed, the people watched for it, and, truly, on the next day, a boat was seen beating against the gale and trying to make the pier. As it came nearer, the parents saw their children holding out their arms and laughing. Then the outlines of the hull and sail grew dim, the children's forms drooped as if weary, and in another moment the vision had passed. Long was the grief and loud were the curses on the English. When Drake learned that he had fired on a harmless fishing vessel and driven a company of little ones away from land to be sunk in a tempest, he was filled with compunction and misgiving. The same vision that the parents had seen crossed the path of his own ships. Before every storm the boat of phantoms appeared, and when he sailed for Escudo and Porto Bello it followed him. Wearied with many wars, ill with tropical fever, repentant ​for this useless killing, he sank into a depression from which nothing could rouse him, and in January he died on his ship, at Nombre de Dios. His remains were consigned to a sailor's grave—the wide ocean—and as the ship moved on her way, the crew, looking back to the place where the body had gone down, saw the phantom smack rise from the deep, rush like a wind-blown wrack across the spot, and melt into the air as it neared the shore.
# Myths and Legends of Our New Possessions and Protectorate/The Deluge

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THE DELUGE
LIKE many unschooled peoples, the Antillean tribes had their legend of a time when the earth was covered by a flood. The island of St. Thomas was one of the first to rise out of the sea. The Haytiens said that the deluge did not subside and that the present islands are the summits of mountains that formerly towered to a great height above the plains. Far back in the days when people lived more simply, and white men, with their abominable contrivings for work, had not even been invented, a cacique or chief of their island killed his son, who had tried to harm him, albeit when the lad was dead a natural affection prompted the father to clean his bones and conceal them in a gourd. Some time afterwards the caciqur and his wife opened this vegetable tomb, to look on the mortal relics of their child, when a number of fish jumped out. Believing that he now had in the gourd a magic receptacle, from which he could take food at any time, the chief placed it on his roof, where mischief-makers might not reach it. While absent on a hunting trip his four surviving sons took down the gourd to see what peculiar properties it had, and why it had been thus set apart. In passing it from one to the other it fell and was broken into little pieces. Instantly a vast quantity of water gushed from it, increasing in volume every instant. The water arose so that it reached their knees, and they had to climb the hills. ​Whales, sharks, porpoises, dolphins, and smaller creatures came swimming forth, and the flow of the water never ceased until the whole world was flooded, as we see it now, for the ocean came from that gourd.
# Myths and Legends of Our New Possessions and Protectorate/The Grateful Bandits

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THE GRATEFUL BANDITS
MONSIEUR DE LA GIRONIERE, a French planter and trader, who visited the Philippines a lifetime ago, or more, told stories of the islands and their people that are taken in these days with a lump of salt. Among these narrations is one pertaining to the bandits who in the first years of the nineteenth century were numerous and troublesome on several of the islands, and who were alternately harassed and befriended by the officials,—chased when they had money and well treated when they had parted with most of it to cool the sweating palms of authority. Gironiere was visiting the cascades of Yang Yang when he found himself surrounded by brigands who were chattering volubly and ​pointing to his horses. They did not at first offer violence, but presently he understood that soldiers were in chase of them, and they were considering whether it would not be wise to kill the horses, lest the troop, on its arrival, should seize them to aid in the pursuit.
Gironiere could not afford horses often. He eagerly assured the thieves that he would not give his nags to the military; that he would, on the contrary, depart by the road over which he had come, in order to avoid meeting the soldiers, and this promise he made on the honor of a gentleman. The leader of the brigands saluted, and the Frenchman drove away, as he had agreed, the thieves watching him until he was out of sight. For months after this incident he had no trouble with the natives, His household goods, his garden products, his poultry were spared. Sone years later, when he had definitely cast his fortunes with the Spaniards, he accepted a commission as captain of the horse guards at Laguna, and it then became his duty to trouble the very robbers who once had spared him. Their fighting was usually open, and, as the marksmanship on both sides was the very worst, it was seldom that anybody was hurt. Truces were made, as in honorable war, and the leaders corresponded with one another as to terms of battle or surrender. One unofficial document received by Gironiere cautioned him to look out for himself, as there was one in the bandit ranks who was ungrateful. "Beware ​of Pedro Tumbaga," it said. "He has ordered us to take you by surprise in your house. This warning is in payment for your kindness at the cascades. You kept your word. We are ready to fight you now, as you would fight us; but we don't strike in the back. Tumbaga will shoot you from hiding."
Gironiere was a crafty person, likewise a cautious one. He knew where to send an answer to this epistle, and he sent it: "You are brave men, and I thank you. I do not fear Tumbaga, for he is a coward. How can you keep among you a man who would shoot another in the back?" Just look at that for slyness! And the message had the effect he desired and expected. Some brave bandit got behind a tree a couple of weeks afterward and shot a bullet through Tumbaga. Thus was the power of the brigands weakened, the safety of Gironiere assured, and good feeling reestablished between the law and its habitual breakers.
# Myths and Legends of Our New Possessions and Protectorate/Pele's Hair

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PELE'S HAIR
FIERCEST, though loveliest, of all the gods is Pele, she whose home is in Kilauea, greatest of the world's volcanoes. When this mountain lights the heavens, when lava pours from its miles of throat, when stone bombs are hurled at the stars, when its ash-clouds darken the sun and moon, when there are thunders beneath the earth, and the houses shake, then does this spirit of the peak, in robes of fire, ride the hot blast and shriek in the joy of destruction,—a valkyrie of the war of nature. Kana-kas try to keep on the good side of this torrid divinity by secret gifts, either of white chickens or of red ohelo berries, and an old man once put into a guide's hand the bones of a child that he might throw them down the inner crater,—Halemaumau, the House of Eternal Burning, whose ruddy lava cones are homes of the goddess and her family. The dogs sacrificed to Pele, when human victims were scant, were nursed at the breasts of slaves, and the priests and virgins received as their portion, after the killing, the heart and liver. Next to her eyes, of piercing brightness, the most striking thing in the aspect of this deity is her wealth of hair, silky, shining red in the glow, and shaken from her head in a cloud-like spread as of flame. When the eruption is at an end and a sullen peace follows the outbreak, tufts of this hair are found in hollows for miles around. Birds gather it for their nests, and ​unfearing visitors collect it for cabinets and museums.
Science tells us that Pele's hair is a molten glass; threads of pumice: a stony froth. When a mighty blast occurs, or when steam escapes through the boiling mass, particles of pumice shred off in the upward flight, or are wire-drawn by winds that rage over the earth. These viscid threads cool quickly in that chill altitude, and float down again. They can be artificially made by passing jets of steam through the slag of iron furnaces while it is in a melted state, the product, which resembles raw cotton, being used, in place of asbestos, for the packing of boilers, steam-pipes, and the like. To such base uses might the goddess' shining locks be put, if she tore them out in large enough handfuls during the carnival of fire and earthquake; but they are not found in quantities to justify this search by commercial-minded persons, and conservative Kanakas might be alarmed by thought of revenges which Pele would visit on them should they misuse her hair as the foreign heathen do.
# Myths and Legends Beyond Our Borders/Glooskap at Menagwes

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GLOOSKAP AT MENAGWES
THE spirit of the river St. John having become noisy and audacious, damaging the banks and brawling defiance to the gods, the Great Spirit showed his anger by closing its mouth. Themains of his dam are overhung by the suspension bridge in the present city of St. John. When the tide runs out there is a fall toward the sea, and when the tide runs in the fall tumbles across the reef up-river. This is the only reversible fall in the world, they say, and the lumber barges in the whirl of it, going up or down with the tide, are a sight worth seeing. Were the rock at the foot of the gorge to be blasted, so as to afford free ingress to the salt water, some miles of the land now cultivated and dwelt upon, back of the city, would be permanently flooded. One Indian legend has it that a giant beaver built a dam across the outlet, creating a flood behind it in which all the inland people were drowned. Glooskap visited this point and named it Menagwes. It once befell him to take a long journey for the good of the human race, for he went about teaching men how to build canoes, to smoke pipes, to raise crops, to use paint, to make maple sugar, and, as he left his house unprotected, this chance for injury was not neglected by the wizards and demons that always lurk in good men's shadows. Disguised in thunder-clouds, they wrecked and burned his lodge, slew his friends and ​servants, and when he returned to find ashes and tokens of strife where had been comfort and peace, his tears fell so fast and free that they were like rain. A few of the wizards he tracked to the site of Pictou, where he slew them. A witch he caught in her lodge, on the site of Liverpool, Nova Scotia, and, after a fight that the stars stood still to see, he tore her into pieces. Then, calling to the whales, he mounted their backs and rode to New-foundland, and appeared, so towering that his head touched the sky, before other of his enemies, who shrank into the fog in terrified silence. In vain their cunning, for he searched out and destroyed them. Returning to Menagwes, he wept afresh, for his friends were ashes. He could not give life.
# Myths and Legends Beyond Our Borders/The Dogs of Clote Scaurp

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THE DOGS OF CLOTE SCAURP
EARLY fishers on the Restigouche who had Indian guides reported a disturbance at night by unearthly noises that hurried through the wood about them. The Indians would draw nearer to the fire, listen to the uncanny laughter and wailing cries, making sure that they were not the calls of owls and panthers, and remark, "Clote Scaurp's hunting-dogs are out." Clote Scaurp, who is only Glooskap under another spelling or pronunciation, lived near the Restigouche, on the narrow Waagan, for a time. In some myths of ​this locality he is human, in others a demi-god, in more distant ones he appears to be the Old Man of the plains families. But he was a good-natured hero, who hunted more for company than for the joy of killing, and his dogs, though often heard, have never been seen. He talked with birds, beasts, and fishes, and only when he found that any one of them had become savage and cruel would he grow angry. The moon, for instance, was a huge and dangerous beast that went up and down the land devouring and killing, so that all things fled before it. Clote Scaurp set off with his dogs to check its devilish conduct, and, meeting it in the wood, he struck it such a terrific whack with his club that it nearly gave up its life. Not only did it cease to grow from that moment, but it peaked and pined to the thing we see at this day, or night, and clambered into the sky to be out of reach of his weapons. To nearly all other things Clote Scaurp was kind, and earth and his dogs have been sorry without him. As evil tendencies began to show themselves, not only among beasts but also among men—envy, avarice, dishonesty, ruffianism, laziness—he gathered all creatures about him and preached good manners. He helped them to be better by living better himself; but the more he did for them the less they would do for themselves, and they were full of evil will. Unable longer to endure this state, he resolved to say farewell to the creatures he had known; so he called them from woods and ​fields and waters; but, though he spread a mighty feast, only the brutes attended. The men were wholly ungrateful, and they hated lectures. At the end of the banquet c and Great Turtle entered their canoe and rowed away toward the setting sun. All the brutes watched sorrowing, and listened to the mournful singing that came fainter and fainter out of the west. When, at last, the beasts broke silence to express their grief, each, to the general astonishment, spoke a different tongue from all the rest, and all fled as in fear, never again to meet in general council. The white owl calls all night, "I am sorry" and Clote Scaurp's dogs still seek him, howling in the woods along the Restigouche. Two rocks at the foot of Blomidon are called his dogs, and he will awaken them when he returns, they say, but those who have heard them know that they still enjoy their liberty.
# Ladies' amusements/O'er the muir amang the heather

O’ER THE MUIR AMANG THE HEATHER
Comin’ through the craigs o'Kyle Amang the bonny blooming heather, There I met a bonny lassie Keeping a’her flocks the gither.
O’er the muir amang the heather, O’er the muir amang the heather, ​There I met a bonny lassie Keeping a' her ewes thegither.
Say I, my dear, where is thy hame? In muir or dale pray tell me whether Says she, I tent the fleecy flocks That feed among the blooming heather
We laid us down upon a bank, Sac warm and sunny waa the weather She left her flocks at large to rove Amang the bonny blooming heather,
While thus we lay, she lung a sang, Till echo rang a mile and farther, And ay the burden o’ the saug Was o’er the muir amang the heather.
She charm’d my heart, and ay einsyne I coudna think on ony ither: By sea and sky she shall be mine! The bonny lass amang the heather.
# The Song Book No. 4/O'er the Moor Among the Heather

O'ER THE MOOR AMONG THE HEATHER.