In conclusion, he drank the health of Mr.
Galt, whose literary talents shed a lustre on the west of Scotland, with
which he was particularly connected. It was now, however, near the
witching hour of night, or we might say of night's black arch, the key
stane; and many from the lower parts of the hall had crowded up to the top;
so that regularity of speech, or bumper, or song, there could be none.
Galt's thanks died in embryo; and the concluding toasts of Mr. Murchison
and Mr. Sedgewick, and the sciences of Scotland and England; the London
Burns' Club, the stewards, and even the ladies, had but their cheers, and
passed away. At length the pipes droned forth, and the festive drama
closed.
"We ought to record that it was enlivened by many bowls of punch brewed by
Hogg in Burns' bowl, and in general very kindly and socially helped into
the many glasses sent up for it by Lord Mahon: there was also some
beautiful singing by Broadhurst, Wilson, Templeton, and Messrs. Jolly,
Stansbury, Chapman, and other vocalists. The Shepherd, too, treated us
with an original song, the burden of which was 'Robin's awa.' It is a
lament for Burns as the best of the minstrels; but it was brought in by a
laugh, in consequence of the toast-master calling for silence for a song
from _Mr_.
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