motto--

Change the name, and the
Story may be told of yourself.


The celebrity of the poem brought numbers to his house, and he sold a
great deal. But his spirit could not brook the brutal taunts and jeers
which every day he was obliged to bear from his customers. He left off
business, and commenced labourer, at which he continued till he got an
offer of a situation as overseer of hedges, on the large estate of
Castle Semple, at that time belonging to William M'Dowall, Esq., M.P.
for Renfrewshire, which he accepted. With short intervals, he remained
there till the day of his death. He was of such a character, that he
considered no man, or class of men, his superior, and no man his
inferior.

Feeling the infirmities of old age approach, Mr. Harvey placed him at
his west gate, as gate-keeper, where he fell into a lingering disease,
which soon put a period to his mortal career. As he had no friends nor
relations (his wife having died about two years before) Thomas had never
cared for to-morrow: he was destitute of the means to support himself
during his illness. The night before he died, he called for a
half-mutchkin of whisky; and (as an acquaintance of his sat by his
bed-side, and who personally informed me) he, taking a glass of it in
his hand, held it between him and the light, and eyed it for some time
with a peculiarly exhilarated expression of countenance, even at such a
crisis;--then, while pleasure sparkled in his eyes, he took his friend
by the hand, and pressing it warmly, exclaimed, "This is the last whisky
I, in all probability, will ever drink, and many and often is the times