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* “ I enclose you," says Burns to Mr Thomson, (Correspondence, No. XLII.]“ Frazer's set of 'Fee him, father. When he plays it slow, he makes it, in fact, the language of despair. I shall here give you two stanzas in that style, merely to try if it will be any improvement.' Were it possible, in singing, to give it half the pathos which Frazer gives it in playing, it would make an admirable pathetic song. I do not give these verses for any merit they have. I composed them at the time Patie Allan's mother died; that was about the back of midnight ; and by the lee-side of a bowl of punch, which
had overset every mortal in company, except the hautbois and the muse."
The editor of this work had the pleasure of hearing Mr Frazer play. Fee him, father,” in the exquisite style above described, at his benefit in the Theatre-Royal, Edinburgh, 1822. After having for many years occupied the station of hautbois-player, in the orchestra of that place of amusement, he died in 1825, with the character of having been the very best performer on this difficult, but beautiful instrument, of his time, in Scotland.
THE AULD STUARTS BACK AGAIN.
TUNE-Auld Stuarts back again.
The Stuarts will be back again.
And bring the Stuarts back again.
There's Ayr, and Irvine, wi' the rest,
And they'll set up their crack again !
Or « Auld Stuarts back again."
Give ear unto this loyal sang,
For auld Stuarts back again :
wi' me to chase the rae,
To bring the Stuarts back again :
There ye might see the noble Mar,
And mony mae, what reck, again.
We'll gar the tailors tack again :
Can they forstand the tartan trews,
And • Auld Stuarts back again !"
SHE ROSE AND LET ME IN.
TUNE-She rose and let me in.
The night her silent sable wore,
And gloomy were the skies ;
Than those in Nelly's eyes.
Where I had often been,
To rise and let me in.
But she, with accents all divine,
love. Her beauty oft had pleased before,
While ber bright eyes did roll ; But virtue had the very power
To charm my very soul.
Then who would cruelly deceive,
Or from such beauty part ?
The charmer of my heart.
Resolved she should be mine, Till Hymen to my arms convey'd
My treasure so divine.
Now, happy in my Nelly's love,
Transporting is my joy ;
No greater blessing can I prove,
So blest a man am I:
The conquer'd flutt'ring heart;
Holds, never to depart.*
THE WEE WIFIKIE.
DR A. GEDDES.
TUNE-The wee bit Wifikie.
THERE was a wee bit wifikie was comin' frae the fair, Had got a wee bit drappikie, that bred her muckle care ; It gaed about the wifie's heart, and she began to spew: O i quo' the wifikie, I wish I binna fou.
I wish I binna fou, I wish I binna fou, 0 1 quo' the wifikie, I wish I binna fou.
If Johnnie find me barley-sick, I'm sure he'll claw my
But I'll lie doun and tak a nap before that I
He's clippit a' her gowden locks, sae bonnie and sae
lang ;t He's ta'en her purse and a' her placks, and fast awa he
* Altered from the original, which appeared in the Tea-Table Miscellany, 1724.
During the last century, when borrowed locks were fashionable, pedlars used to buy hair from persons in humble life throughout the country, to be disposed of again to peruke-makers in large towns, for the purpose of being converted into wigs for fine ladies and gentlemen. I have been informed by an aged relative, that a particular individual, who lived about
And when the wifie wakened, her head was like a bee, Oh! quo' the wifikie, this is nae me.
This is nae me, quo' she, this is nae me; Somebody has been fellin' me, and this is nae me.
I met wi' kindly company, and birl'd my bawbee ! And still, if this be Bessikie, three placks remain wi'
And I will look the pursie neuks, see gin the cunyie
There's neither purse nor plack about me! This is nae
This is nae me, &c.
I have a little housikie, but and a kindly man;
fawn ; And Johnnie he'll come to the door, and kindly wel
come gie, And a' the bairns on the floor-head will dance, if this
Will dance, if this be me, &c.
The nicht was late, and dang out weet, and, oh, but it
was dark; The doggie heard a body’s fit, and he began to bark: O, when she heard the doggie bark, and kennin' it was
he, O, weel ken ye, Doussikie, quo' she, this is nae me.
This is nae me, &c.
When Johnnie heard his Bessie's word, fast to the door
he ran : Is that you, Bessikie ? - Wow, na, man ! a hundred years ago at Peebles, used to get a guinea every year from a “ travelling merchant, or pedlar, for her hair, which was of a particularly fine golden colour. Thus, the pedlar in the song was only prosecuting part of his calling, when he clipped all Bessikie's “gowden locks, sae bonnie and sae lang.”