SPLORES
OF A
HALLOWEEN,
TWENTY YEARS AGO:

BY ALEXANDER DICK.
WOODSTOCK, C. W.:
WILLIAM WARWICK, PUBLISHER.
1867.
[Pg 3]
PREFACE.
The following verses were sent to compete for the prizeoffered in October last, by the Montreal Caledonian Society,for the “best poem on Halloween.” They were not successful;and some may be ready to ask, “Why then publishthem?” It may be sufficient to reply, “I choose to do so;”“I choose to appeal from the award of the Judges to thedecision of the public.” A single sentence will explain whyI make such an appeal. The gentlemen appointed to actas judges based their decision, according to their publishedstatement, as much upon “suitability for recitation at apublic festival,” as upon “literary merit.” Had this beenstated in the advertisement inviting competition it wouldhave been all right. But it is very evident that all poemswhich might be judged unsuitable for such recitation,would necessarily be excluded from competition, whatevermight be their “literary merits,” and the successful productioncould only be that which among the “suitable”was regarded as possessing the greatest literary excellence.It is on this ground—and not because I could be so vain asto think that my production ought to have received the prize,while I was altogether unacquainted with not a few otherswhich may have been rejected on the same principle—thatI complain of the award of the Judges, and that I now appealfrom that award by this publication.
A poem may be very well suited for recitation at a publicfestival, and possess very slight claims to any literarymerit, while another indefinitely superior might not insuch circumstances be suitable for recitation at all.
With the public I now leave the decision, and shall cheerfullyacquiesce in its award whether favourable or thereverse.
A. D.
Woodstock, C. W., Jan., 1867.
[Pg 5]
HALLOWEEN.
This night we meet o’ a’ the nights,
    For fun the very wale,
    When melancholy taks its flight,
    And graning pains grow hale;
    When young anes, wi’ sic antic tricks,
    And wi’ their laughin’ music,
    Gar auld anes tae forget their cares,
    And feel’t the best o’ physic.

    And though wi’ some we used to meet
    We canna haud this night,
    Yet we are here to show we ne’er
    Forget tho’ out o’ sight:—
    And o’ a Halloween langsyne,
    I will to you rehearse,
    And as a canter ye may like,
    I’ll gied to ye in verse.

[Pg 6]    Ae night gane bye, at gloamin’ time,
    When there was muckle steer,
    Mang witch mid warlock gathered far
    To ride in high career,
    Some callants met, a merry crew,
    Yet each a decent chiel—
    Though on that night a’ seem’d possessed
    O’ something o’ the deil.

    Their runts clean through and through were bored
    And stuffed with raivelins fou,
    And like a chimley when on fire
    Each could the reek out spue:
    And thus convened they council held,
    Wi’ handsel whar they’d gang;
    A’ being settled and now dark,                        
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