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O begin at the beginning, and proceed in due order to the middle and the end, we ought first of all to take the curious traveller over the scenery of the poet's earliest experiences from the town of Ayr to the banks of the Doon; which, from its well-known associations, may well be designated Tam o' Shanter's Land. The town of Ayr itself may form part of this reminiscence: and thereafter, in due order, we may fittingly visit the towns of Irvine, and of Tarbolton and Mossgiel, on the banks of the Clyde. In the town of Ayr

Auld Ayr, wham ne'er a town surpasses,

In honest men and bonnie lasses

visit in succession the site of the tower where the great Scottish hero was confined; and Thom's statue there of the stalwart martyr; of the ancient Court House, in

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which the Scottish Lords were betrayed to execution; of the Dominican Monastery where Robert Bruce held the Parliament which settled his succession; of the Fort of Ayr, built two hundred years ago by the English

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Protector; and of the ancient Castle, where William, the Lion of Scotland, once held his councils and his revelries. Our limited space forbids us to recall the numerous historical associations of the place, as well as of Dunure and Colzean, and the rest of the land of the Kassilis and the Kennedies.

THE "BRIGS OF AYR."

BUT before we quit the goodly town, let us for ourselves compare the 'Twa Brigs,' whose jealous reproaches are so well and wisely set forth in the poem of that ilk. First of all, is not this description accurate?

AULD BRIG appear'd, o' Ancient Pictish race,
The very wrinkles Gothic in his face;
He seem'd as he wi' time had warstl'd lang
Yet, teughly doure, he bade an unco bang.

NEW BRIG was buskit in a bran new coat,
That he at Lon'on, frae ane Adams, got,
In 's hand five taper staves as smooth's a bead,
Wi virls and whirlygigums at the head.

And does not the New Brig speak fairly?

Auld Vandal, ye but show your little mense,
Just much about it wi' your scanty sense;
Will your poor narrow footpath of a street,
Where twa wheelbarrows tremble when they meet-
Your ruin'd formless bulk o' stone and lime,
Compare wi bonnie brigs o' modern time?

And yet, what modern architecture gains in elegance, true enough mayhap, it sometimes loses in strength and durability, as well as in imposing grandeur:

Conceited gowk, [says Auld Brig], puff'd up wi' windy pride, This mony a year I've stood the flood and tide,

And tho' wi' crazy eild I'm sair forfairn,

I'll be a brig when ye 're a shapeless cairn.

And then the pleasant corporate associations of antiquity:

Ye worthy proveses and mony a bailie,

Wha in the path of righteousness did toil aye,
Ye dainty deacons, and ye douce conveners,
To whom our moderns are but causey-cleaners.
Ye godly councils wha hae blest this town,

Ye godly brethren o' the sacred gown,

How would your spirits groan in deep vexation

To see each melancholy alteration.

But the fairy train appears in order bright, and puts an end to the altercation; and we must hasten to another part of the scene.

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E may pause awhile, ere leaving Ayr, on the Barnweil Hill, where the Knight of Elderslie is said to have set fire to the barns which enclosed the English soldiery: and thence, let us to the neighbourhood of " Alloway's auld haunted Kirk ", following the track of

honest Tam o' Shanter,

As he frae Ayr ae night did canter.

But we shall take it easily and pleasantly, and in the

broad light of day too

not skelping on as he did

thro' dub or mire,

Despising wind and rain and fire:

Nor glowring round wi' prudent cares,

Lest bogles catch us unawares.

In due time we reach Slaphouse Bridge, not two hundred yards from which, we may

cross the foord,

Where in the snaw the chapman smoor'd;

and perhaps Mr. Hamilton's gamekeeper at Roselle will let us into the plot of ground behind his house, where we shall see

the birks, and meikle stane,

Where drucken Charlie brak's neck bane:

and, passing

Thro the whins and by the cairn,

Where hunters fand the murder'd bairn.
An' near the thorn, aboon the well,

Where Mungo's mither hang'd hersel

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we shall see before us Doon pour a' his floods"; and Kirk Alloway, glimmering thro' the trees, not groaning now, as in Tam's enchanted ears, but gently courting the advances of incense-breathing morn.

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