He spied a pair o' jack-boots How cam' thae boots here Without the leave o' me? Ay, boots, quo' he. And muckle hae I seen; But siller-spurs on water-stoups Saw I never nane. Our gudeman cam' hame at e'en, And there he saw a siller-sword What's this I see? Oh, how cam' this sword here Ay, a sword, quo he. A parridge-spurtle! quo' he; Weel, far hae I ridden, And muckle hae I seen; But siller-handed parridge-spurtles Saw I never nane. Our gudeman cam' hame at e'en, And hame cam' he; And there he spied a powder'd wig Where nae wig should be. What's this now, gudewife? What's this I see? How cam' this wig here Without the leave o' me? Ay, a wig, quo' he. A clocken-hen! quo' he; Far hae I ridden, And muckle hae I seen; But powder on a clocken-hen Saw I never nane. Our gudeman cam' hame at e'en, And hame cam' he; And there he saw a muckle coat Where nae coat should be. How cam' this coat here? How can this be? How cam' this coat here Without the leave o' me? Ye auld blind dotard carle, It's but a pair o' blankets Far hae I ridden, And muckle hae I seen; But buttons upon blankets Saw I never nane. Ben gaed our gudeman And ben gaed he; And there he spied a sturdy man How cam' this man here? How can this be? How cam' this man here And blinder mat ye be ! My mither sent to me. Ay, a maid, quo' she. Far hae I ridden, And muckle hae I seen; But lang-bearded maidens Saw I never nane. This excellent old song has been claimed as English, but its whole character is evidently Scottish. Johnson, the editor of the "Musical Museum," recovered the air, which had been lost, from the singing of an old barber or hair-dresser in Edinburgh, and printed it for the first time in his collection. THE BARRING O' THE DOOR. From Herd's Collection. IT fell about the Martinmas time, And a gay time it was than, When our gudewife got puddings to mak', The wind sae cauld blew east and north, Quoth our gudeman to our gudewife, "My hand is in my hussy'f skap, Gudeman, as ye may see; An' it shou'd nae be barred this hundred year, It's no be barr'd for me." They made a paction 'tween them twa, That the first word whae'er should speak Then by there came twa gentlemen And they could neither see house nor hall, Now whether is this a rich man's house, But never a word wad ane o' them speak, And first they ate the white puddings, Though muckle thought the gudewife to hersel', Then said the one unto the other, Do "But there's nae water in the house, Oh, up then started our gudeman, "Will ye kiss my wife before my een, Then up and started our gudewife, Gied three skips on the floor : "Gudeman, ye've spoken the foremost word,— Get up and bar the door." This song was first printed by David Herd, who wrote it down from a traditionary version. It is generally sung with the following lines as a chorus: OH, AN YE WERE DEID, GUDEMAN. From Herd's Collection, 1776. Он, an ye were deid, gudeman, And a green turf on your heid, gudeman, There's sax eggs in the pan, gudeman, There's beef into the pot, gudeman, There's sax horse in the sta', gudeman, There's sax kye in the byre, gudeman, There's ane o' them yours, but there's twa o' them mine, THE DUSTY MILLER. From "Johnson's Museum," 1782. HEY, the dusty miller, And his dusty coat; Ere he spend a groat. That I gat frae the miller. |