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THE AULD MAN'S MEAR'S DEAD.

TUNE-The Auld Man's Mear's dead.

THE auld man's mear's dead;
The puir body's mear's dead;

The auld man's mear's dead,
A mile aboon Dundee.

There was hay to ca', and lint to lead,
A hunder hotts o' muck to spread,
And peats and truffs and a' to lead-
And yet the jaud to dee!

She had the fiercie and the fleuk,
The wheezloch and the wanton yeuk;
On ilka knee she had a breuk-
What ail'd the beast to dee?

She was lang-tooth'd and blench-lippit,
Heam-hough'd and haggis-fittit,
Lang-neckit, chandler-chaftit,
And yet the jaud to dee !*

*The late Rev. Mr C- minister of the parish of Borthwick, near Edinburgh, (who was so enthusiastically fond of singing Scottish songs, that he used to hang his watch round the candle on Sunday evenings, and wait anxiously till the conjunction of the hands at 12 o'clock permitted him to break out in one of his favourite ditties,) was noted for the admirable manner in which he sung "Bonny Dundee," "Waly, waly, up yon bank," "The Auld Man's Mear's dead," with many other old Scottish ditties. One day, happening to meet with some friends at a tavern in Dalkeith, he was solicited to favour the company with the latter humorous ditty; which he was accordingly singing with his usual effect and brilliancy, when the woman who kept the house thrust her head in at the door, and added, at the conclusion of one of the choruses, "Od, the auld man's mear's dead, sure eneuch. Your horse, minister, has hanged itsell at my door." Such was really the fact. The minister, on going into the house, had tied his horse by a rope to a hook, or ring, near the door, and as he was induced to stay much longer than he intended, the poor animal, either through exhaustion, or a sudden fit of disease, fell down, and was strangled. He was so much mortified by this unhappy accident, the coincidence of which with the subject of his song was not a little striking, that, all his life after, he could never be persuaded to sing "The Auld Man's Mear's dead" again.

THE BAIGRIE O'T.*

TUNE-The Blathrie o't.

WHEN I think on this warld's pelf,
And how little o't I hae to myself,

I sich and look doun on my thread-bare coat;
Yet, the shame tak the gear and the baigrie o't!

Johnnie was the lad that held the pleuch,

But now he has gowd and gear eneuch;

I mind weil the day when he was na worth a groatAnd the shame fa' the gear and the baigrie o't!

Jenny was the lassie that muckit the byre,
But now she goes in her silken attire;

And she was a lass wha wore a plaiden coat-
O, the shame fa' the gear and the baigrie o't!

Yet a' this shall never danton me,

Sae lang as I keep my fancy free;

While I've but a penny to pay the t'other pot,
May the shame fa' the gear and the baigrie o't! †

THE BLUE BELLS OF SCOTLAND.

MRS GRANT.

TUNE-The Blue Bells of Scotland.

O WHERE, and O where, does your Highland laddie dwell?

O where, and O where, does your Highland laddie dwell?

Shame fa' the gear and the baigrie o't," says Kelly," is spoken when a young handsome girl marries an old man on account of his wealth." The phrase, however, seems here used in a still more illiberal sense. + From Herd's Collection, 1776.

He dwells in merry Scotland, where the blue-bells sweetly smell,

And oh, in my heart I love my laddie well.

O what, lassie, what does your Highland laddie wear?
O what, lassie, what does your Highland laddie wear?
A scarlet coat and bannet blue, with bonnie yellow hair;
And nane in the warld can wi'
my love compare.

O where, and O where, is your Highland laddie gane? O where, and O where, is your Highland laddie gane? He's gone to fight for George, our king, and left us all alane ;

For noble and brave's my loyal Highlandman.

O what, lassie, what, if your Highland lad be slain? O what, lassie, what, if your Highland lad be slain? O no! true love will be his guard, and bring him safe again;

For I never could live without my Highlandman!

O when, and O when, will your Highland lad come hame? O when, and O when, will your Highland lad come hame? Whene'er the war is over, he'll return to me with fame; And I'll plait a wreath of flowers for my lovely Highlandman.

O what will you claim for your constancy to him?
O what will you claim for your constancy to him?
I'll claim a priest to marry us, a clerk to say Amen;
And I'll ne'er part again from my bonnie Highlandman.*

*From Johnson's Scots Musical Museum, vol. VI. 1803.

FEE HIM, FATHER.

TUNE-Fee him, Father.

O, SAW ye Johnnie comin'? quo she,
Saw ye Johnnie comin'?

O, saw ye Johnnie comin'? quo she,
Saw ye Johnnie comin'?

O saw ye Johnnie comin'? quo she,
Saw ye Johnnie comin',

Wi' his blue bonnet on his head,
And his doggie rinnin'? quo she,
And his doggie rinnin'.

O, fee him, father, fee him, quo she,
Fee him, father, fee him;

O, fee him, father, fee him, quo she,
Fee him, father, fee him;

For he is a gallant lad,

And a weel-doin';

And a' the wark about the toun

Gangs wi' me when I see him, quo she,
Gangs wi' me when I see him.

O what will I do wi' him? quo he,
What will I do wi' him?

He has ne'er a coat upon his back,
And I hae nane to gie him.

I hae twa coats into my kist,

And ane o' them I'll gie him;
And for a merk o' mair fee

Dinna stand wi' him, quo she,
Dinna stand wi' him :

For weel do I loe him, quo she,
Weel do I loe him ;

For weel do I loe him, quo she,
Weel do I loe him.

O, fee him, father, fee him, quo she,
Fee him, father, fee him;

He'll haud the pleuch, thrash in the barn,
And crack wi' me at e'en, quo she,
And crack wi' me at e'en.*

CRAIL TOUN.+

TUNE-Sir John Malcolm.

AND was ye e'er in Crail toun ?
Igo and ago;

And saw ye there Clerk Dishington?
Sing irom, igon, ago.

His wig was like a doukit hen,

Igo and ago;

The tail o't like a goose-pen,

Sing irom, igon, ago.

And dinna ye ken Sir John Malcolm?

Igo and ago;

Gin he's a wise man I mistak him,

Sing irom, igon, ago.

And haud ye weel frae Sandie Don,

Igo and ago;

He's ten times dafter nor Sir John,

Sing irom, igon, ago.

From Herd's Collection, 1776.

There is a somewhat different version of this strange song in Herd's Collection, 1776. The present, which I think the best, is copied from The Scottish Minstrel.

The person known in Scottish song and tradition by the epithet Clerk Dishington, was a notary who resided about the middle of the last century in Crail, and acted as the town-clerk of that ancient burgh. I have been informed that he was a person of great local celebrity in his time, as an uncompromising humourist.

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