Seeing we're having a tour of the Stevenston quarry area on Tuesday, details here I went looking for this tale by Bob Auld, thinking I'd posted it some years ago. Here it is now, better late than never.
Wull Meechan was a cairter man
Who laughed and shrugged thro' life
Hard work and honesty was his plan
Of avoiding most care and strife
This indeed was a noble thought
None better could man, devise
So thro' the years he learned a lot
And his thoughts grew rich and wise.
But fate is such a fickle jade
This you'll find none can deny
No matter who the plans have made
Her mocking finger's in every pie
Such it was with this gentle man
Whose thoughts were just and good
Who never claimed a noble clan
Altho' I'm quite sure he could.
There's a bond 'tween man and horse
That's given birth to many a tale
But seldom one with such remorse
As the one I'm about to tell
But let me try the best I can
And only the truth shall be spoken
To tell you how it all began
How his gentile heart was broken.
Howie's yaird by the Trodden Gate
Was where Wull toiled for years
Auld Jock Montgomery was his mate
This pair they had few peers
The work they did was never bad
For to them this was an art
So many thought they'd gone mad
On the day they drifted apart.
But fate like smokey vapours curl
As it did from Jock's auld pipe
Round and round twist and twirl
'Till the day and time was ripe
Wull's new job for Stinston toon
Was filling quarry with rubbish
It maybe hadn't the smell of June
But then Wull was never snobbish.
An auld tree root a careless lad
Should have put below the water
Was out of sight now this was bad
'Tho' he thought it didn't matter
'Till Wull was backing up to tip
And the auld root slipped away
Jean she stumbled lost her grip.
Got scared and started neigh,
Wull grabbed the reins to reassure
That frightened but gallant horse
She struggled bravery she was dour
But things they just got worse
He tried to soothe wit h words of praise
With words that seemed to flatter
She gained a little his hopes were raised
Then she slipped into the water.
Waist deep he strove but all in vain
To unyoke he loosed the cinch
He coaxed, pleaded, pulled her main
But she never gained an inch
And as she sank below the surf
Exhausted he lay downed and cried
His body ached he clawed the turf
My God but he had tried.
Now the joys all left his heart
His step has slowed and it dragged
His arms outspread palms apart
While his shoulders stooped and sagged
The lights gone from his once happy eyes
Would he ever forgive or forget
Breast wracked with fitful sobs and sighs
While his grey head hung with regret.
Have you ever seen thro' tearstained eyes
And felt with a heart that's broken
Do you think that you can realise
That this tale is surely a token
How a thoughtless man's careless act
Could scar a life with sorrow
Brings to mind this simple fact
Today's your foundation of tomorrow."
'Tho' many years have now gone by
Since Wull was laid to rest
I often search for the reason why
The worst often happens to the best
But now I'm sure that he's at peace
Among his friends in Heaven
In that land where troubles cease
And no tree roots lie hidden.
More of Bob Auld's poems
Wull Meechan - by Bob Auld
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Re: Wull Meechan - by Bob Auld
HI Hughie do you think that horse jean could be Joe Howies her name was Jean Geordie Moodie had it for years selling herrings-fire wood logs and many a house move around Ardrossan I went with him quite a lot when I was young to do some gardening on South beach for Andrew MacCarroll alovely big house just along from Harry Kemps place along the shore front. /?
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Re: Wull Meechan - by Bob Auld
Hi Harry, I remember Geordie Moodie being a neighbour of yours, and his trusty horse and cart way back in the fifties. I don't know the year this incident recorded by Bob Auld took place, but it's possible it was the same horse. It would make it easier if horses had second names.