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Note VIII.

A pigmy scraper on a fiddle,

Wha us'd to trystes and fairs to driddle.

To driddle. A contemptuous phrase applied to the walking or other motions of people who are deformed, or diminutive in stature.

Note IX.

At kirns an' weddings we'se be there,
An' O! sae nicely's we will fare!
We'll bouze about, &c.

A Scotch wedding lasted three or four days in ancient times: Feasting, dancing, and other merriment, afforded rare doings for the strolling minstrels.

Note X.

And while I kittle hair on thairms.

i.e. while I rub a horse-hair bow upon cat-gut.

Note XI.

Wi' ghastly ee, poor Tweedle-dee

Upon his hunkers bended.

To sit on one's hunkers, to sit with the hips hanging downwards, and the weight of the body depending on the knees.

No. XII

An' by that stowpe, my faith an' hope,
An' by that dear Keilbagie!
If e'er ye want, or meet wi' scant,
May I ne'er weet my craigie!

This is a deeply-solemn oath for a tinker; but it must be remembered that his resources never failed while any of his neighbours' property remained unsecured. The faith to be put in their curses is proverbial.

That dear Keilbagie. Keilbagie is a well-known kind of whiskey, in great request among the jovial inhabitants of POSIE NANSIE's barn.

Note XIII.

Her lord, a wight of Homer's craft,

Tho' limpin' wi' the spavie,

He hirpled up, and lap like daft,
An' shor'd them 'Dainty Davie'

O boot that night.

The strolling bard seems rejoiced at getting rid of one of his doxies; and merrily shores, or makes a blythe threatening promise of the tune called 'Dainty Davie,' into the bargain.

Note XIV.

I am a bard, of no regard

Wi' gentle-folks, an' a' that;
But Homer-like, the glowran-byke,
Frue town to town I draw that.

The glowran-byke. Byke is a term applied to a swarm of bees. Here it means a multitude of people, whom the bard draws from their houses, like so many bees, to listen to his lilting.

Note XV.

They toom'd their pocks, they pawn'd their duds.

i.e. they emptied their wallets, and pawn'd their

rags.

FINIS.

INDEX TO VOL. I.

PAGE

Bide ye yet

Beneath a green shade I fand a fair maid

Bess the Gawkie

Bide ye, bide ye yet

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Billet, by Jean Gradden

Blink owre the burn, sweet Betty

Bothwel Banks (note)

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Braw, braw lads of Galla-water

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Hee, balow, my sweet wee Donald (Note).

I dream'd I lay where flowers were springing(Burns) 130

I hae been at Crookie-den (Note)

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Saw ye nae my Peggy

Sheriff Muir

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Strathallan's lament (Burns)
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