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JOCK.
I've a huggerfu' o' saut, as gude as ony saut-fat,

Hings aye ayont the fire, aside a clew o' yarn ;
A sowin-pig, a 'tatoe-bittle, too, for a' your jokin' :

Ye thocht that I was puir, but ye're fairly mista'en.

JENNIE.

A huggerfu' o' saut is easy to be gotten ;

And for a spurtle ony stick may do, an mak' it clean; I doubt your meal-pock, lad, 's as tume as Willie's

whistle : Sae ye're no sae rich, my Johnnie lad, as ye wad seem. I saw yon muckle mug, that stands ayont the hallan,

Reamin' ower wi' sowens, aside an auld pirn-wheel, To lay the tousie-pousie hair o' the plaidin' :

And ye're no sae rich, my Johnnie lad, as ye wad seem. But though your purse be lang-neck't and hollow,

It's hard to say yet what's to be dune;
For, after a', ye’re a gay cantie kind o' fallow;

Though ye're no sae rich, my Johnnie lad, as ye wad

seem.

Sae, tak' your plaid about you, Johnnie,

And come your ways up by our house at e'en ; For I like a lad that's brisk and bonnie ;

Though ye’re no sae rich, my Johnnie lad, as ye wad

seem.

SLICHTIT NANCY.
TUNE-Nobody coming to marry me.
It's I hae seven braw new gouns,

And ither seven better to mak';
And yet, for a' my new gouns,

My wooer has turn'd his back.

Besides, I have seven milk-kye,

And Sandy he has but three; And yet, for a' my gude kye,

The laddie winna hae me.

My daddie 's a delver o' dykes,

My mother can card and spin, And I'm a fine fodgel lass,

And the siller comes linkin' in;
The siller comes linkin' in,

And it is fou fair to see,
And fifty times wow ! O wow!

What ails the lads at me?

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When I was at my

first

prayers, I pray'd but anes i' the year, I wish'd for a handsome young lad,

And a lad wi' muckle gear. When I was at my

neist

prayers, I pray'd but now and than, I fash'd na my head about gear,

If I got a handsome young man.

Now I am at my

last

prayers, I pray on baith nicht and day, And, oh, if a beggar wad come,

With that same beggar I'd gae. And, oh, and what 'll come o' me!

And, oh, and what 'll I do!

That sic a braw lassie as I

Should die for a wooer, I trow !*

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Tune-O'er Bogie.
I will awa' wi' my love,

I will awa' wi' her,
Though a' my kin had sworp and said,

I'll ower Bogie wi' her.
If I can get but her consent,

I dinna care a strae;
Though ilka ane be discontent,

Awa' wi' her I'll gae.

For now she's mistress o' my heart,

And wordy o' my hand;
And weel, I wat, we shanna part

For siller or for land.
Let rakes delight to swear and drink,

And beaux admire fine lace;
But my

chief pleasure is to blink
On Betty's bonnie face.

There a' the beauties do combine,

Of colour, treats, and air;
The saul that sparkles in her een

Maks her a jewel rare ;
Her flowin' wit gives shining life

To a' her other charms;
How blest I'll be when she's my wife,

And lock'd up in my arms !

* From the Tea-Table Miscellany, (1724,) where it is printed without any mark.

There blythely will I rant and sing,

While o'er her sweets I'll range;
I'll cry, Your humble servant, king,

Shame fa' them that wad change
A kiss of Betty and a smile,
A’beit

ye wad lay down
The right ye hae to Britain's Isle,

And offer me your crown.*

LASS, GIN YE LO’E ME.

JAMES TYTLER.

TUNE-Lass, gin ye lo'e me.
I HAE laid a herring in saut-

Lass, gin ye lo'e me, tell me now;
I hae brew'd a forpit o' maut,

An' I canna come ilka day to woo:
I bae a calf that will soon be a cow-

Lass, gin ye lo'e me, tell me now;
I hae a stook, and I'll soon hae a mowe,t

And I canna come ilka day to woo :

I hae a house upon yon moor

Lass, gin ye lo'e me, tell me now;
Three sparrows may

dance
upon

the floor,
And I canna come ilka day to woo:
I hae a but, an' I hae a ben-
Lass, gin ye

lo'e
me,

tell me now;
A penny to keep, and a penny to spen',

An' I canna come ilka day to woo:

I hae a hen wi' a happitie-leg

Lass, gin ye lo'e me, tell me now ; * Ramsay founded this song upon an old chorus. “ Ower Bogie,” is a proverbial phrase, used in regard io a marriage which has been celebrated by a magistrate instead of a clergyman. The song appeared in the TeaTable Miscellany, 1724. | Mowe-a pile of grain in stalk at the end of a barn.

That ilka day lays me an egg,

An' I canna come ilka day to woo :
I bae a cheese upon my skelf-

Lass, gin ye lo'e me, tell me now;
And soon wi' mites 'twill rin itself,

And I canna come ilka day to woo.*

L'ASS, GIN YE LO'E ME.

[ANOTHER VERSION.]
I HAE laid a herrin' in saut-

Bonnie lass, gin ye'll tak me, tell me now;
And I bae brew'n three pickles o' maut,
And I cànna come ilka day to woo-

To woo, to woo, to lilt and to woo,
And I canna come ilka day to woo.

A hae a wee calf that wad fain be a cow

Bonnie lass, gin ye'll tak me, tell me now;
I hae a wee gryce that wad fain be a sow,
And I canna come ilka day to woo-

To woo, to woo, to lilt and to woo,
And I canna come ilka day to woo.t

** James Tytler, who has contributed this ditty, and The Bonnie Brucket Lassie, to the mass of popular Scottish song, was the son of a minister in Forfarshire, and originally educated to the medical profession. Being a man of original and truly active mind, he soon soared beyond the ordinary limits of that study. He became a projector and an author, and, finally, a polemic and a democrat. After many turns of good and evil fortune, he was obliged, about the time of the French Revolution, to quit his native country for the more liberal atmosphere of the western continent, on account of some proceedings which had brought him under the observation of the Scottish state-officers. He finally died, while editor of a newspaJer, at Salem, in the state of Massachusetts, in the year 1805, aged fiftyeight. | Herd's Collection, 1776.

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