He wat the house, and tint his shoon, He sat him doun upon the green, Busk and go, busk and go, Busk and go to Cuttie's wedding! That wadna gang an they were bidden? * O, AN YE WERE DEID, GUIDMAN. TUNE-O, an ye were deid, Guidman. O, AN ye were deid, guidman, And a green truff on your heid, guidman, There's sax eggs in the pan, guidman, There's sax eggs in the pan, guidman ; There's beef into the pot, guidman, There's sax horse in the sta', guidman, There's sax kye in the byre, guidman, *This humorous old rant, which is sung to a very lively tune, is from Buchan's Ancient Ballads and Songs of the North of Scotland. Edinburgh, 1828. There's nane o' them yours, but there's twa o' them mine, And the lave is our John Highlandman's.* MAGGIE LAUDER.† SEMPLE. TUNE-Maggie Lauder. WHA wadna be in love Wi' bonnie Maggie Lauder ? And spier'd what was't they ca'd her: Maggie! quoth he; and, by my bags, My name is Rob the Ranter: Piper, quo Meg, hae ye your bags, * From Herd's Collection, 1776. t"This old song, so pregnant with Scottish naiveté and energy, is much relished by all ranks, notwithstanding its broad wit and palpable allusions. Its language is a precious model of imitation; sly, sprightly, and forcibly expressive. Maggie's tongue wags out the nicknames of Rob the Piper with all the careless lightsomeness of unrestrained gaiety."-BURNS. "Hallanshaker is what the old people call a rambling mischievous fellow; one who sods up the burns, ties the doors, and works other pranks of innocent merriment. The hallan is a bundle composed of the longest broom, entwisted with willows, placed movable to ward the wind from the door. The partition which divided the spence from the hall was frequently named the Hallan,' being formed of similar materials."-CROMEK. "Bladderskate ought to be Blether-skyte. 'Ye bletherin' loon,' ' Ye vile skyte,' are terms of familiar reproach still in use, and are innocently applied to those satiric rogues who have the art of mingling falsehood with truth with admirable art, annoying with it the sage remarks of the soberminded and wise."-IDEM. If ye be Rob, I've heard o' you; Then to his bags he flew wi' speed; she. Weel hae ye play'd your part! quo Meg; * A celebrated piper at Kilbarchan, Renfrewshire, whose memory and merits are preserved in an excellent elegy by Semple. He flourished about the middle of the seventeenth century. "In consequence of an enthusiasm upon such subjects, the writer of these pages did not neglect, on visiting Anstruther, to spier for Maggie Lauder.' He was pleased to find, that the inhabitants of the town have not only preserved the tradition of her existence, but even know the exact place of her residence. She lived, and practised (it seems) not the most reputable profession, in the East Green of Anster, a low street, connecting the town with the adjacent fishing-village of Cellardykes. Her house was a cot of one story, and stood upon the north side of the street, at the west end of two more modern little cottages, almost opposite to a tannery. The spot is now occupied by a garden, which extends a good way back. The house itself has not existed within the memory of the present generation; but all the people concur in pointing out this as its site. It ought, however, to be mentioned, that, in opposition to the popular legend regarding this renowned lady, the Anstruther family have a tradition that she was a person of condition, and connected with their ancient house."-Picture of Scotland, vol. 2, article FIFE. From Herd's Collection, 1776. It is certainly a startling fact, and one which militates strongly against the tradition of Semple's authorship, that the song does not appear in the Tea-Table Miscellany. THE QUEEN OF SLUTS. [FROM RECITATION.] I MARRIED a wife, and I brocht her hame; I bocht my wife twenty milk-kye; Sing niddle, sing noddle, &c. She sat i' the neuk till she drank them dry; When she kirn'd, she kirn'd in a boot; And, instead o' the kirn-staff, she stapp'd in her kute;* She roastit a hen, baith feathers and guts; I think that my wife was the Queen o' Sluts ! My wife she took a pain in her head; And the Lord be praised! for noo she is dead! I wish the morn may be a gude day; Sing niddle, sing noddle, sing noo, noo, noo! To get the auld filthy slut hoistit away; Sing ben willie wallets, sing niddle, sing noddle; Sing niddle, sing noddle, sing noo, noo, noo ! * Ankle. TAM O' THE LIN. [FROM RECITATION.] TAM o' the Lin is no very wise; He selt his sow, and boucht a gryce ;* The gryce gaed out, and never cam in; Fa la, fa la, fa lillie ! Tam o' the Lin gaed up the gate, + Fa la, fa la, &c. Wi' fifty puddins on a plate ! Fa la, fa la, &c. And ilka puddin had a pin ; There's wood eneuch here! quo Tam o' the Lin. Sing lindly, tindly, &c. Tam o' the Lin, and a' his bairns, Fa la, fa la, fa lillie ! Fell i' the fire in other's arms; Fa la, fa la, fa lillie ! Oh! quo the bunemost, I've got a het skin! Sing lindly tindly, fa la lindly, Fa la, fa la, fa lillie! A young sow. Street, way. |