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Updated: June 23, 2025


~Fielderkraut.~ Closely resembles Winnigstadt, with larger and longer heads and stump; requires more room than Winnigstadt. ~Ramsay's Winter Drumhead.~ Closely resembles St. Dennis. I think it is the same. ~Pomeranian Cabbage.~ Heads very long; quite large for a conical heading sort; very symmetrical and hard; color, yellowish-green. It handles well, and I should think would prove a good keeper.

"Perhaps it might be better for her to stay and help you for a few weeks, and by that time your cold may be better. But you can think it over to-night and tell me your decision in the morning." Mrs. Ramsay's return cut short any further conversation, and they all sat down to tea, a strange little party. Mysie did not eat much. She was too tired, and felt that she would rather go to bed.

This volume contained, among other things, Ramsay's bold continuation of "Christ's Kirk on the Green," which the same biographer describes as "King James the First's ludicrous poem," in which the poet of the High Street skilfully turns the poet-monarch's rustic revel into a vulgar village debauch.

Porson would never have spoken thus had not the news been serious indeed. When he paused Ned gave a little gasp and exclaimed, "My father!" "Yes, Ned, I am grieved to say that it is your brave father who has suffered from the accident. It seems that as he was walking down the High Street one of Ramsay's heavy wagons came along.

Ramsay would not have been the true man he was to every tradition and inheritance of his class had he not shown a modest complacency in his own success. He was assailed, we are told, by nameless critics, who put forth "A Block for Allan Ramsay's Wigs," "Remarks on Ramsay's Writings," and so forth and retaliated, not without dignity: "Dull foes," he says, "nought at my hand deserve."

Ramsay's lap and the others followed his example, striving very inadequately to express their wonder and delight. But he interrupted them, smilingly. "I should like to inquire, just as a matter of curiosity, what form of investment each one of you expects to make with the sum you receive? Don't think me too inquisitive please. It's just an old man's curiosity!"

She may do very well for skippers' wives, chandlers' daughters, and such like; but nobody shall wait on pretty Mistress Margaret, the daughter of his most Sacred Majesty's horologer, excepting and saving myself. And so I will but take my chopins and my cloak, and put on my muffler, and cross the street to neighbour Ramsay's in an instant.

The metre of this poem Burns has evidently taken from The Cherry and the Slae, by Alexander Montgomery, which he must have read in Ramsay's Evergreen. The stanza is rather complicated, although Burns, with his extraordinary command and pliancy of language, uses it from the first with masterly ease. But there is much more than mere jugglery of words in the poem.

On the morning of the 28th of March he arrived at Ramsay's Mills, on Deep river, a strong post which the British had evacuated a few hours before, crossing the river by a bridge erected for the purpose. There Greene paused and meditated on his future movements. His army, like that of the British, for some time past had suffered much from heavy rains, deep roads, and scarcity of provisions.

He very gravely walked up to him, looked all round the room as if he was afraid that the walls would hear him, and then whispered for a few seconds into the ear of his host. "Indeed!" exclaimed Krause, looking up into Ramsay's face. Ramsay nodded his head authoritatively. "Gott in himmel!" exclaimed the syndic; but here the bell for dinner rang a loud peal.

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