LETTER by luckboy


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									COPY OF A VERY



From the Bell of the High Kirk of Paisley, to its Friend the Cross Steeple of Glasgow, giving an account of her being struck with the Dumb Palsy, and the curious remedy which the Bell-doctors took to restore her to health and sound.
Paisley, 12th October, 1821. Maister Prenter, WHA wad e're thocht to hae seen me writing in the public prents, I'm sure that the like o't seldom happens. But come and I'll tell ye wha first put the thing into my noddle. It was just the last Saturday night that as I was lucken o'er the public prents, what do ye think I saw? I'm sure ye'll no guess, for I was muckle surprised to see't mysel—It was a letter frae my frien in Glasgow, " The Cross Steeple," maken' an unco complaint o' ingratitude an' neglect trae them it had served sae lang. really I canna work my wark toony gude purpose; an' Oh I canna thole to get sae mony reflections, when I weel ken it's no my faut.

They brought a doctor to see me, but it wasna a doctor o' physic, fur ye ken sic folks can do nae gude to a patient wha has neither blude nor anes. But it was a doctor o' bells, an' when he saw my sad condition, he thocht it adviseable as weel as pruden to ca' in fur advice anither eman\ill\nt docter o' soun's; an' after the twaa had cansultet th' gither they at last pronounced my trouble to be " the Dum' Palsy," Dum' enoughfaith,thinks I, an' as other docters seldom meets an' consults, without doing I hae seen the day, Mr. Prenter, that I wad something mair to their patient, sae an' operanae hae needit to trouble yaw to tell my story; tion was purposed to me, an' 'twel awat muckle na, na, for heth its weel aneugh kent that wh\ill\nI suffered during their e x p e r i m e n t s . T h e y I wus in my health I could speak braw an' loud, drew a saw draught frae my lip to the hole \ill\ and could gar folk hear me far an' near; but my cheek; but this did nae gude, an' indeed I as I am sair alter'd, I think I mun be excus'd never expeckit it, fur I cou'd na see how it was for following the plan of my frien, and I dare possible, fur it the soun' whisled thro' my cheek; say ye'll think sae too when ye hear how ill I've before I didna ken, how making the crack bigger wi' a saw wad gart keep in the won better. been used. Now that am as ill as ever, an' i' my present I'm an auld servant o' the public, and ne'er state a disgrace to the place I till, what for no kent what it was to spare my strength in wurk- let me retire frae my birth in peace, as they ing my wark; na, na, that was ne'er a trick o' doe a' other worn-out public servants. I'm suir mine, for by night or by day I was aye ettling I'll no seek ony pension na, na, I'm nane o' the to please folk, and tho' I say it mysell, that greedy set; but it's only for the honor o' the may be shauld na doe't, I hae been aye true to place that I fill, that gars me seek my discharge my trust, and until I took my present trouble, Now, Maister Prenter, as I ken that a heap it was ayont the power o' the Diel himsell to find fault with me, and it's weel kent that he's o' folk read your papers, if you preut my statenae frien to our kind o' folk. Mony a winter's ment, it might come un'er their observation, blast I hae seen, and some taks't upon them to an' wha kens but they may tak pity and grant say that I may see mony mac if I'm wee doc- my request. In which case you wud ne'er be tor'd; but they'll no gar me believe that, for my forgotten by trouble is owr serious, and I'm sair, sair touted. Maister Prenter, They dinna ken my distress, or they wud na spreak that way. My head is a' wrang, and my Your obedient Servant. tongue has worn a hole thro' my cheek, an' its a great stress for me to speak ayont my breath, THE PAISLEY HIGH KIRK an' O but I'm sair tired o' my birth; no to say STEEPLE BELL. \ill\at I'm unwillen to serve my auld maister, but
Printed byJohnMuir, Glasgow.

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