THE following anecdote respecting Burns during his last days is given on the authority of Mr. Drummond of the “Perthshire Advertiser,” and is sufficiently interesting to be related:
“During his sojourn at Brow, the poet’s health was so much reduced that he lived almost entirely on port wine. Being off duty, his poor salary of £50 was now reduced to £35. In these sad circumstances, the poor poet’s little stock of port wine and cash ran out simultaneously. In a state bordering on despair, he went to the little inn at Clarencefield, the landlord of which was one of his devoted admirers, and, laying down an empty bottle on the bar counter, asked for a bottle of port wine. When the wine was handed to him, he whispered to the landlord that the deil had got into his pouch and was sole possessor; but taking his watch seal in his hand, tendered it to the landlord, and began to unfasten it.
The landlady observed the motion, and gave a stamp with her foot, while the landlord pushed the poet towards the door, and, when they passed the bar window, the landlord had his arm round the poet’s waist, and floods of tears rushed from both the men’s eyes.”
