ALL THE WORDS AND SPELLINGS ARE HOW MARJORIE WROTE THEM
This "wonder - child" Marjorie Fleming, was born on January
15th, 1803, at 130 Hight Street, Kirkcaldy, Fife, Scotland, and
died on January 19th, 1811 - a short life, but a happy one with
a mission. Her poems were fascinating for someone so young.
Buried in Abbotshall Kirkyard, Kirkcaldy.
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PET MARJORIE
"MY DEAR LOVE ISABELLA"
The following lines seem to have been written when about six
yers of age.She was devotedly attached to her beautiful and
gentle sister,regarding whom she writes:-
"Here lies sweet Isabell in bed,
With a nightcap on her head;
Her skin is soft, her face is fair,
And she has very pretty hair;
She and I in bed lies nice,
And undisturbed with rats and mice;
She is disgusted with Mr Worgan,
Though he plays upon the organ.
Her nails are neat, her teeth are white,
Her eyes are very, very bright;
In a conspicuous town she lives,
And to the poor her money gives:
Here ends sweet Isabella's story,
And may it be much to her glory."
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It is not known if the following story
regarding Sir Walter Scott meeting Marjorie ever took place or indeed
was it the author, Browns imagination. Marjorie was a distant relative
through marriage to Sir Walter Scott.
With her bright,ingenuous,subtle wit,her keen uncanny sense
of values, she cast her spell over the "Wizard of the North."
For did he not say that he was amazed at her power over him,
and "She's the most extraordinary creature I ever met with,
and her repeating of Shakespeare overpowers me as nothing else
does."
Who can tell what deeps were stirred in Sir Walter Scott's
consciousness by his constant contact with his "bonnie, wee
croodlin' doo," as he loved to call her? How many of his thoughts
and even expressions, which we now treasure, were coloured
or tinged by the quaint, yet apposite, vocabulary of his PET
MARJORIE ?
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"ISA'S BED"
Marjorie writes:-
"I lay at the foot of the bed because Isabella said I disturbed
her by continial fighting and kicking, but I was very dull,
and continially at work reading the " Arabian Nights," which
I could not have done if I had slept at the top."
" I love in Isa's bed to lie,
Oh such a joy and luxury !
The bottom of the bed I sleep,
And with great care within I creep;
Oft I embrace her feet of lillys,
But she has goton all the pillys.
Her neck I never can embrace,
But I do hug her feet in place."
"OF SUMMER I AM VERY FOND"
"Of summer I am very fond,
And love to bathe into a pond;
The look of sunshine dies away,
And will not let me out to play;
I love the morning's sun to spy
Glittering through the casement's eye,
The rays of light are very sweet,
And puts away the taste of meat;
The balmy breeze comes down from heaven,
And makes us like for to be living."
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"THREE TURKEYS FAIR"
This requiem was inspired by one of her visits to Braehead farm,
of which
she writes:-
"I am going tomorrow to a delightful place,Braehead by name, belonging
to Crawford, where there is ducks,cocks,hens,bubbly jocks,two
dogs, two cats and swine, which is delightul."
And again:-
"Braehead is extremely pleasant to me by the companie of swine,
geese, cocks, etc., and they are the delight of my soul."
Still again :-
"Braehead is extremely pleasant to me by the companie
of wine, geese, cocks, etc., and they are the delight
of my soul." Still again :-
I am going to tell you of a melancholy story.A young turkie
of two or three months old, would you believe it, the father
broke its leg, and he killed another ! I think he ought
to be transported or hanged.
Dedicated to Mrs Crawford by the author, M.F.
"Three turkeys fair their last have breathed,
And now this world for ever leaved;
Their father and their mother, too,
They sigh and weep as well as you;
Indeed, the rats their bones have crunched,
Into eternity they're laanched
A direful death indeed they had,
As wad put any parent mad;
But she was more than usual calm,
She did not care a single dam."
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"THEN I WOULD ALL QUITE HAPPY BE"
Dated July 1811, and written to her beloved Isabella.
"There is a thing that I do want,
With you these beauteous walks to haunt,
We would be happy if you would
Try to come over if you could.
Then I would all quite happy be
Now and for all eternity.
My mother is so very sweet,
And checks my appetite to eat;
My father shows us what to do;
But,O, I'm sure that I want you.
I have no more of poetry;
O, Isa, do remember me,
And try to love your Marjorie."
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