miles north-east of Arbroath; the romantic caves are well known, some of which run quite through rocks, and land him who explores them on a spot where all is new around him. One is dark, and runs to great ex

Where none who enter'd e'er return'd, To find an earthly grave.

When the waning moon hangs in the west,

With mildew on her horn,

ignorance and superstition, this was named the "Forbidden Cave," and firmly believed to be occupied by demons from the infernal regions. Even in the last century, few would have been found possessed of sufficient fortitude to venture within its portal. I have often heard the outline of my tale told by my grandmother, although I have taken the liberty of altering the catastrophe, which, as related by her, was truly horrible. Dickmount-Law is more than a mile distant from the entrance of the cave, where, according to tradition, the piper and his wife entered, when returning drunk from a wedding. Next day, the piper was heard at Dickmount-Law, sounding his drone, also his wife singing the following distich, in a doleful tone;

Lone, lost, and weary, plays Tammy Tyrie, Beneath the barns of Dickmount-Law!

Soon after, the piper's dog was seen to issue from the cave, with such accompaniments as I shall not shock your feelings by naming; but they plainly indicated the death of his mistress. The piper continued to play incessantly for some nights and days after, but was never more seen on earth. Thus runs the current tradition, which at one period was firmly believed by many.

dark sea,

On the bounding billows borne.

In wintry winds, a boat of fire,
Steer'd by a spectre form,
Would proudly rise on the mountain wave,
Light gliding in the storm;

Like arrow from a well-bent bow,

Would shoot athwart the gloom, And swifter than the speed of light

Dart in its darksome womb.

Then the paddling oars were heard to plash,

Amidst the salt-sea foam;

And a hollow voice, from its dark recess,

Would cry, "You're welcome home!" Then shouts of wild unearthly glee

And laughter loud, and revelry,
Would strike the list'ning ear;

Unmeet for man to hear.

The sea-fowls, sleeping in their nests,

Would wake with wailing scream; And the fisher, laid on his homely couch,

Would start in a frightful dream,

The sheep would bleat in the distant fold, As the grey-rocks echoed round,

And stars would shoot in the midnight

sky,

So awful was the sound.

The frighten'd fish forgot to swim,

And jump'd with quivering fin; The limpet clung to the tangled crag, So dreadful was the din.

Down div'd beneath the briny flood, The monsters of the deep;

I CHANT the deeds of departed days,
A tale of the olden time;
Though limpingly lags on my verse,
And careless is my rhyme.

If you've ever been where rude rocks rise,
By Brothock's winding shore,
Where Becket's ruin'd Abbey stands
In age sublimely hoar;

You've seen the deep indented caves,
The work of Nature's hand;
And their yawning fronts, where wild
waves dash,

As they rush o'er the strand.
And, haply, you have heard the tale
Of thedark Forbidden Cave,

Behind the rocks would creep.

And then would wake the winds of

heav'n,

And the bellowing tempests roar ; And the mountain wave, with curling head,

Would lash the sounding shore.

And never a boat would take the sea
Till the Sabbath bell had rung;
Nor fisher dare to leave the land
Till holy mass was sung.
Tom Tyrie was a man of might,

Who liv'd at Dickmount-Law,
And none like him, besouth the Dee,
Could Highland bagpipe blaw:

better pleased than when he can extract some fun from his philosophy. But, exclusive of losing the Town Clerkship, by quizzing the Provost, he has lately had two practical lessons, which, it is the hope of his friends, will, in some degree, wean him from this propensity.

A rich, but simple countryman, not long ago, called on him, intending to employ him as his agent in a lawsuit. The electric machine stood on a table in the room, and Scriblerus saw, with delight, that his client viewed it with wondering curiosity; and in answer to a query what it was, replied, that it was a newlyinvented musical instrument; and proposed playing an air, requesting the man to hold the chain till he put it in tune. The consequence may be easily guessed; the countryman received a shock, which first frightened, and then offended him; no apology nor explanation could appease him; he went off in a rage, and our friend lost his client. The accident alluded to, in the beginning of my letter, was produced by a similar cause. His landlady had got a new servantmaid, who, Martin soon discovered, had never seen an electric machine; he conceived this an opportunity too good to be lost, and soon planned a double plot, in which his dupes were to be the servant-maid Susan, and his landlady's cat. Having put his machine in good tune, he called Susan up stairs, and, by some plausible story, persuaded her to sit down with puss on her lap, holding her gently with both hands. Twisting the chain around the cat's neck, he proceded without delay, and soon produced effects far beyond his anticipations, for when the discharge took place, Susan, uttering a wild scream, fell on the floor, dragging both the cat and the electric machine along with her. Scriblerus, in his attempts to disengage the chain, had his right hand severely bit by the infuriated animal, and the machine was dashed in pieces. The scream of the girl had alarmed her mistress, who, coming up, found Susan on the floor in a swoon, and the lawyer standing over her, with his hand bleeding profusely. The good woman soon formed an opinion of the cause very wide of the truth, and began to express her sentiments

accordingly, when her lodger entreated her to run for Dr Tell, and all should be explained afterwards. The man of medicine was luckily at home, and hastened to his friend. When the girl was restored to life, though scarcely to her senses, Martin proceeded to state what had produced this unexpected catastrophe, and expressed great alarm about his wound, which was very painful, and his arm already much swelled. Dr Tell saw his alarm, and believed it might be well to take advantage of his fears, as the means of curing his propensity to those wanton tricks. He therefore dressed the wound with a grave countenance, and being earnestly entreated to say, candidly, whether any bad consequences were likely to follow, seemed reluctant to answer. This only increased the alarm of his patient; and being adjured, in the most solemn manner, to speak candidly, he said, that the cat had been put in a rabid state by the shock, and there was no foreseeing the possible consequences; although he hoped to prevent them, by putting his patient under a troublesome and severe regimen. Having kept his friend under this terror as long as appeared prudent, he read him a severe lecture on the imaginary fears he had too often inflicted on others, and obtained a solemn promise, that these tricks should be renounced; he then assured Scriblerus he had no bad consequences to apprehend, and that he would undertake the cure with the utmost confidence.

The story soon got air, to the amusement of his friends, and the secret gratification of his enemies. Some advised him to apply to Prince Hohenloe; while others agreed, that, being a heretic, the holy man would not pray for him, or even if he did, it would not be answered. Martin himself now laughs at the joke, which is known all over the town, and has already cost him a new gown to the servant-maid, and another electric machine, besides disqualifying him from writing for some time to come.

I now annex a copy of his seypiece, which he prefaced with the following introduction :

The scene of the following tradi– tionary tale lies on the coast, a few

When the bridegroom went to meet his bride,

The piper aye cheer'd him on ; And the harvest-home was dull and sad Without his mirthful drone.

Kate Gray, his wife, had a rosy cheek,

And bright was her black eye; With love, plain fare, and good brown ale, Their years flew swiftly by.

Tom said, "I go to a wedding-feast,

Kate, you'll gang to the sea;

The moon is round, and the crabs are rich,

And you'll gather a dish for me."

The sun shines bright, and bonny Kate
Trips lightly o'er the lea;
And now she stems the rippling wave,
Coats kilted to her knee.

Deep, deep in a pool, a crab she saw,

With claws of wondrous size; And plunging deep, she dragg'd him out, Exulting o'er her prize.

Her basket full, she lean'd her down,

To rest on a hillock green,
When heaviness came o'er her heart,
And sleep soon clos'd her e'en :

She doz'd and dream'd-no matter what,
And wakened wild and lone ;
Her basket stood close by her side,

But the matchless crab was gone.

She sought him east, and she sought him west,

Where'er she thought he'd sprawl; And just in the jaws of the haunted cave

She beheld him swiftly crawl.

His elastic claws were large and long,
And over the stones he hies;
Kate follow'd fast, for loth was she
To lose so rich a prize.

She stoops, but still he shuns her grasp,
Alas! for hapless Kate!
His side-long strides decoy her on,
And lure her to her fate.

Within the foul Forbidden Cave

She caught him by the claw; And turn'd around, to bear him out, Then hie to Dickmount-Law;

But dark clouds now bedim the sky,
And loud is Ocean's roar ;
The foaming billows, mountain high,
Are dashing round the shore:

Loud thunders roll along the heav'ns,
The rocks around her quake,
With hollow echoes long and deep
She feels the cavern shake;

The fire-flaught spreads in sheets of flame,
Or shoots in arrowy stream;
Dark frowns the cavern's hoary sides
Beneath the lurid gleam.

Still presses on the rolling waves;

More deep the gloom profound;
Kate's far in the Forbidden Cave,
And all is darkness round!
On Dickmount-Law the evening sun
Sheds soft and golden sheen;
The birds sing blithe in every bush,
Sweet smells the meadow-green:
Kingblythmont bank is fair to see,
For love and mirth are there;
A blushing bride and blithe bridegroom
Have banish'd every care.

Tam Tyrie winds his humming drone,
And looks both fond and fain
On light-heel'd lasses in the dance,
With crotchets in his brain.

Oh! little does the minstrel ween
Of wife and children dear,
How they must pass the cheerless night,
To them both long and drear.

So rare the minstrel's melody,

So rich their mirthful fun,
The sun was peeping from the sea
Before their sport was done.
With bagpipe dumb, below his arm,

Tam homeward bends his way;
His brow with nappy ale was warm,
His heart was light and gay.

His little dog across the plain

The leveret would pursue,
Tear up the gowans in his teeth,
And frisk among the dew.

At home, instead of the welcome smile,
He beheld his children weep;
And cold and pale grew the piper's cheek,
To think on the salt-sea deep.

The bonny lasses were now forgot,
As he hurried down the hill;
For though he had a light wand'ring eye,
Kate reign'd in his bosom still.

He looked long among craigs and rocks,
And wearily wander'd round;
At last he resolv'd to touch his pipe,

Convinced she would know the sound.
The dog ran east, and the dog ran west,
He smell'd at the salt-sea foam,
He snuff'd along the shells and sand,
Where the hapless wife did roam;

He follow'd the scent till he came to the

cave,

Where all was dark within,

Stood still, and whin'd, and wagg'd his

tail,

Afraid to venture in;

Came back and caught the piper's coat,
And look'd with his hazel e'e,
And said, as plain as a dog could speak,
"Dear master, go with me!"

He led the piper o'er the stones,

Till the Cave was right before, And tried to drag the minstrel in, As he finger'd his chanter o'er.

His sharp shrill pipe, and sounding drone, Loud echo'd in the air;

He tried to peep within the Cave,

But all was darkness there.

The sun was warm-his throat grew dry, And sweat ran o'er his e'en ;

And the piper thought of the good brown ale

He quaff'd so free yestreen.

He paus'd for breath-then jump'd in joy,
And forward fearless ran;
For Kate upon her piper smil'd,

And shew'd a flowing can:

66 "O blessings on you, my bonny Kate!

Come here, my winsome dame !" "It may not be-you must come to me, For I cannot leave my hame;

"But come, dear Tam-we've meat and drink,

And mirthful minstrels too; I've danced till the sweat ran o'er my brow,

But I'll dance a reel with you!"

Her cheek had ne'er so richly glow'd,

Ne'er was her eye so bright; Tam never thought that woman's face Could give such dear delight:

As in some low'ring, dismal night,
Shines forth a trembling star,
Before them, in the darksome Cave,
A spark was glimm'ring far.
Though long the road, they lightly pass'd,
And reach'd a palace fair;

A thousand lamps, in fragrance sweet,
Were brightly blazing there:
Above their heads resplendent moons
In purest azure roll'd ;
The finely tesselated floor

Was coral, mix'd with gold.

Tam gazed upon a fairy throng,
Lost in delirious trance;
Light as the bees on heather-bells,
They thread the mazy dance.
The piper sat beside the Queen,

With ravish'd eyes and ears;
Melodious murmurs floating round
The music of the spheres!

The King led Catherine to the floor,
Dark flash'd the piper's e'e:
The Queen, who saw his rising wrath,
Cried, "You shall dance with me."
How sweet she smil'd-how long they
danced,

It boots not here to tell;
The King and piper both were pleas'd,

So pow'rful was the spell.

But Kate thought on her bairns and home,
And, anxious to be gone,

She whisper'd in her husband's ear,
And bade him sound his drone.

He blew a Highland pibroch loud,
Made rocks around them rair;
The dancers vanish'd from the floor,
And all was darkness there!

The starry lamps no longer shine,

The golden floor is gone;

And Tam and Kate, in midnight gloom,
Set on a cauld damp stone.

His drone had never bumm'd so loud,
So bauld he never blew,

So lightly on the sounding pipe
His fingers never flew :

At home, the bairns around the fire
Blithe heard the chanter bum;
And bird and beast, round Dickmount-
Law,

All gazed in silence dumb :

No piper was on hill or dale;

But aye they heard the sound;
And soon they felt the dinsome noise
Come dirling through the ground.
But Tam and Kate sat both inclos'd
In night and darkness deep;
And round the piper's manly heart
Chill fear began to creep.
G