The young man eyed him as he came And was by no means idle, For as he passed he leapt in front, And caught him by the bridle.
The horse reared back, and with the shock His rider fell right over Among the mud, and well for him The place was soft as clover.
Brought to his feet, without a hurt, But all o'er very muddy, He thanked the lad, well-pleased to find He sound was and unbloody.
He was a thin spare man, and past Mid-life, and looking sickly; Not that his health was touched at all, Or that his limbs were weakly;
But he had been for many years In towns a constant dweller, Confined to business close, and this On health is oft a teller.
He had an eye for bales and goods, And turnings of the market; But for the country's picturesque, His shadow rare did dark it.
He rode out had to breathe the air, And give his nerves a bracing, His steed unruly had become, His horsemanship disgracing.
The countryman pulled up some grass, No readier thing appearing, And rubbed him down in ostler style, The mud from off him clearing.
And then for having saved his life,-- To cut my tale the shorter,-- He offered him, as a reward, To take him as his porter;
And if he showed capacity, To give him education, To make him fit in course of time, To fill a higher station.
The youth agreed to't, for he thought, (While handing back the bridle) He'd like the change, besides just then He happened to be idle.
In Glasgow busy city now, Behold this country clown bred, First porter and then junior clerk, And learning to be town bred.
Years passed, the sun shines once a day, But days make years, and every Sun that rises counts one, thus time Flows on, as water rivery.
Through all gradations of the desk The youth, still true and steady, Had risen till, from senior clerk, He partner was already.
The merchant now, as commerce had To counting-house long held him, Resolved to take his ease at last, And came to business seldom:
The junior partner and head-clerk Care of the cash-box keeping, While he himself had chosen to be What's called the partner sleeping.
The countryman, no longer young, Had toiled both late and early, And gained some wealth, and 'twas his boast That he had won it fairly.
But with it he had learnt betimes And aye the more the faster, Some of the city's ways that were Not pleasing to his master.