A TRUE INCIDENT .

Beside the winter e'ening fire,
A gleg wee lass o' towmonds ten
Sat nestlin' close to Grannie's knee,
Upon the cozie clean fire-en'.

The mither, crocnin' ower a sang,
Sat spinnin' in the ingle neuk,
An' aften on the twasume she
Wad cast a couthie, kin'ly leuk.

In cowl and bauchles faither sat,
Aft nodding in his muckle chair;
The supper sowens stood on the bink —
A supper whilk a queen might share.

Wi' pawkie e'e, the farrant bairn
Keek'd up in Grannie's face, and said,
" O ye maun mind the promise noo
That but yestreen to me ye made.

" I heard ye say maist feck o' dreams
Were nocht but nonsense, yet it seems
That aften warnin's gude and true
Are sent us frae the lan' o' dreams.

" An' noo ye'll tell me, Grannie dear,
Some dreams that ye ha'e had yersel,
That afterhen ye ne'er forgat,
An' proven true by what befell. "

The croonin' sang, the birrin' wheel,
Had stoppit baith; the mither raise
An' brocht some peats to beet the fire,
An' syne sat doun to warm her taes.

" Noo tent me, lassie, " Grannie said,
" I was a gilpie like thysel',
Whan sic a dream ae nicht I had
That aye it grues my heart to tell.

" I thocht no ane was in the house,
That by the fire alane I sat,
Had in my haun a water jug,
An' at my feet the auld grey cat.

" The beast sprang up wi' glow'rin e'en,
An' ran to hide the bed beneath,
I leukit doun, an' there I saw
What I s'all min' while I hae breath.

" A muckle haun, nocht but a haun,
Was lyin' on the floor outspread;
A haun as big as ony ten,
The colour o't a bluidy red.

" I had nae fear, but lichtly lauch'd,
An' at the haun I flang the jug;
O never till the " crack o' doom"
Will fa' sic soun' on mortal lug.

" A soun' mair loud than thunner far,
Rang through the air aroun', abroad;
An' whan it ceas'd, an awfu' voice
Bade me prepare to meet my God.

" The wee short hour ayont the twal
Frae oot the clock that moment rung;
I wauken't wi' a fearfu' skreigh,
An' fast to mither's neck I clung.

" I tauld to her my dream. She said,
" Noo frae thy dream this lesson learn,
Ne'er to despise the haun o' God,
Or cast contempt on it, my bairn.

" " An' if thou come to woman's years,
An aye through life hast meekly trod
In wisdom's ways, thou'lt be prepared
Whan soun's the ca' to meet thy God."

" It's threescore years sinsyne, yet aft
Comes to my min' that dream sae clear;
The haun I see, the soun', the voice,
The awsome words I seem to hear.

" Whan in the howe o' nicht I hear
The clock ring oot her single knell,
" Prepare to meet thy God" it seems
To say — how soon we canna tell.

" An' noo, my bairn, my dream is tauld,
I houp that it may bring thee gude;
That dream a blessin' was to me,
Though at the first ill unnerstude. "

" O Grannie, " said the frichtit bairn —
Her cheek was white, her dark broun e'e
Was fu' o' tears — " I'll ne'er forget
The dream ye tauld this nicht to me. "