A few steps away is Alloway Kirk.
The old sexton was standing by the grave of Burns' father, and described to me the route of "Tam o' Shanter." He showed me the chinks in the sides through which the kirk seemed "all in a bleeze," and he pointed out the identical place on the wall where Old Nick was presiding over the midnight revels of the beldames when-- "Louder and louder the piper blew, Swifter and swifter the dancers flew." After the old man had finished his recital, I asked him whether he had ever seen the poet.

"Only aince," he replied.

"That was one day when he was ridin' on a road near here.

I met a friend who told me to hurry up, for Rabbie Burns was just ahead.

I whippit up my horse, and came up to a roughly dressed man, ridin' slowly along, with his blue bonnet pulled down over his forehead, and his eyes turned toward the groond." "Didn't you speak to him ?" I said.